Today I learned there’s a major difference between a “foot massage” and “foot reflexology.” A foot massage = pleasurable (maybe even ticklish). Foot reflexology = painful (bordering on torturous). We all make mistakes, but this one was a doozy.
All I wanted was a nice, relaxing foot rub. Instead I got some Chinese girl’s death hands. Screaming and wincing with every violent prod, poke and jab, I could not turn back on this mistake. No amount of rationalizing would stop Ming, my foot reflexologist, from inflicting pain on me:
“Um, hey, this hurts. Please stop?” “No. Trust me….is good for you. You thank me tomorrow.” “Um, no. Seriously. My whole foot feels like it’s on fire.” “Oh no…you fine.”
At one point Ming persisted to punch my heels and my calves vigorously with her fists, before giving me the equivalent of an “Indian sunburn” on my ankles.
I don’t know how John managed to stay composed, despite his obvious pain and discomfort. Me, I think every client in the entire massage parlor could feel my pain.