The Fish Spa

I approached the Phuket Fish Spa with determination, prepared to stick my feet into an aquarium containing throngs of tiny scavenger fish commissioned to nibble and suck away my dead, dry skin.

In preparation for my visit, I had consumed two large Changs. 

I should have had eight.   

The Fish Spa attendant greeted me and I shrewdly negotiated a price of $400 Baht for 10 minutes. 

She took my money and motioned for me to take a seat at the edge of the aquarium.

I dangled my feet above the murky water.  The fish looked up at me, their tiny, greedy mouths watering.

I tentatively moved my feet closer to the water.  One millimeter at a time.

Dave was like, "Stick'm in!  You're wasting money!"

I inched my feet downward.

Closer still.

I was about 7 minutes into my 10-minute Fish Spa treatment, and still about 2" from the water, when the Fish Spa Attendant reached over and SHOVED MY LEGS INTO THE WATER!

I screamed.

And my feet responded like a jack-in-the-box, catapulting several fish into the seedy looking bar across the street.

Meanwhile, daughter Linda and brother-in-law Mark were thoroughly enjoying their fish exfoliations in the adjacent aquariums.

And they began to apply peer pressure.

Calling me a wimp.  And other unfair, unnecessary names.

I tried.  Oh, how I tried.  I really did.  But every time my heels touched that water, and I locked eyes with those flesh eating monsters, I screamed.

A crowd began to form.

I had an audience. 

And I realized that I had to give the performance of my life.

From out of nowhere came an unexpected surge of Adrenalin.  I took a deep breath and lowered my feet into the terrifying tank.

And I successfully achieved my goal.

Just kidding.  

I'll get a Fish Spa next time I'm in Thailand.  

But I'll need a LOT more alcohol.

The Thai Beach Massage

When the Thai Beach Massage Lady, let’s call her “Sasithorn”, reached under my prone body to slip the sports bra over my boobs I was confused.  What was she doing?  

Then she tried to jam my elbow into the bra’s armpit.

It appeared she was intent on “slipping it off.”

No, Sasithorn! This sports bra does not slip off.  It has never slipped off.  And you can’t make it slip off.

Trust me.  I’ve tried taking it off over my head. It rolls up like a sausage, mutating into a boa constrictor the farther north it gets.  

It is only exacerbated when my body is sweaty.  Say, like, when I’m on a beach in Thailand.

I started to giggle.  I had no choice.

Sasithorn was not about to give up, either.  The bottom of the sports bra was now resting above the girls and she was pushing my left elbow into my side in a valiant, yet hopeless attempt to remove that sports bra so she could begin my massage.

Since the only Thai word I knew was Chang, which is the brand of beer I had been drinking, I could not tell her that she was headed in the wrong direction.  The only way to get that sports bra off was to pull it down.  Over my hips.

By this point I was shaking with laughter.

But Sasithorn was steadfast.  She tried my right arm.

Unsuccessfully.

I thought about taking the sports bra off for her, but that would have required me to stand up and remove it by stepping out of it.  And considering that the bra was situated above my boobs, I opted to remain face down.    

So I giggled some more.

Sasithorn eventually gave up and began my back and shoulder massage.  And it did not take long for me to realize that a Thai Beach back and shoulder massage on a recently repaired torn Rotator Cuff was a big mistake.  

On a scale of 1 to 10 where 1 was no pain at all and 10 was having your toenails removed by a beaver, this was a 10.
 

Okay, maybe I am exaggerating.  Beavers have big teeth.  It was a 9.

At one point, while I was writing my will in my head, Sasithorn casually reached underneath me and pulled my sports bra back in place.  

Which got me giggling all over again.

After what seemed like three days, my one hour massage was finally done.  Sasithorn tapped me on my injured shoulder and motioned for me to flip over.  I sat up and attempted to adjust my sports bra, but it was pretty much glued to my body after all that action.   

I paid Sasitorn, said since I didn’t know how to say, “Thanks for the blog topic,” I simply said “Chang”.