So I was bored, after getting a 1 Gigabyte Dual-Voltage Reduced-Size Multi-Media Card for my Nokia N70, and so I went to get the foot massage I intended to get sometime back. Yeah, no more freeloading off OSIM chairs; I wanted to try the real thing!
I walked down the famous Bukit Bintang Road, with all the foot massage parlors. Old ladies with laminated sheets called out. “Want foot massage? RM20 half hour.” they said. Some also said, “Young lady massage. Very nice wan.” I didn’t want any of that. The pictures also showed vacuum tubes and candles. No thanks.
I walked around, and none of the shops looked less seedy than the last.
And so, at the end of the block, I went to the other side, facing BB Plaza. Same rates, same look.
Up the curve, near The Chicken Rice Shop, however, was a Malay foot massage stall! It was open air, so no seedy business. I didn’t see any candles or needles or vacuum tubes, so I sat down on one of those vinyl-strung beach chairs.
A friendly-looking, slightly built looking Malay man attended to me. “Pertama kali?” (First time?) I said yes.
He convinced me to take the one-hour package because apparently, the half-hour one was only on the foot and didn’t get rid of the wind in my legs. Okay, whatever that meant.
He unrolled my trousers up to my knees, poured lotion all over, and started his work. I only cringed when he kneaded the bones with his knuckles.
Halfway through, he brought out a few bamboo-made cups (the size of a coffee mug) with Chinese insignia on them. Eh? He took out a fire torch, dipped it in a bottle of kerosene and lit it with a lighter!
Holding the cup upside down, he put the flaming torch inside the cup (presumably to create a vacuum) and swiftly cupped the cup on my knees, calves and base of my foot. He placed about 10! The torch was a bit too close, so I said, “errr jangan bakar bulu ya…” (don’t burn my leg hair okay?)
Apparently the longer the cups stay, the more wind I have in my feet. Some dropped off sooner than others, presumably it had finished draining the wind? I don’t know.
He timed it just nicely to finish by one hour. He eventually popped off the leftover cups, and the ‘windy‘ spots were red and sore. Massaging them stung a bit.
When I thought it was over, he then reclined my chair all the way. “Releks sikit“, he said.
He then put his legs around mine, as if to ride me like a horse! I instinctively covered my groin.
(And this is where one of my MSN nicknames came in…)
And then he got on top of me and said, “control pisang“.
He then massaged my thighs. I controlled my pisang alright. He then inclined my chair and finished with a short back massage. He also told me not to bathe for that night to keep the warm effect of the massage.
Me, being polite Albert, did not take any pictures of the process, or how cool the cups looked sticking onto my feet. However, I took one after, at home.
I shall hereby give you ample warning for a horrible picture involving my legs and sore bumps.
(See I even shrunk the picture to reduce the traumatizing effect on you readers.)