Right in the balls...

... Yesterday I kicked myself right in the balls.

Didn't think that was possible, did ya? Yep. Me either. But thanks to a middle-aged chinese woman, a hour of "Yani's Slowest Hits", and a steam room, I accomplished the impossible, and racked myself.
Twice.
Once with each foot.

I've never really been a "Spa Whore" or a "Massage Junkie", but I've gone with Lektor a few times now, and I gotta say, I'm becoming attached. Lily (pronounced: "Lee-Lee") is apparently the queen of a profoundly intrusive and discomforting style of massage - one that is priceless and unforgettable once your muscles (and testicles) heal.

Getting closer to 30 everyday, I notice every once in a while that things that didn't always hurt me are now quite painful with no apparent escape (40 yearolds, bite it. This is MY blog). Kneeling or squatting in longer than 2.4 second intervals makes my knees grow internal toothpicks that stab into my brain and begin shutting down bodily functions... like standing.

Then, after a few weeks of working, working out, and walking my usual 40 blocks or so a day just to get a sandwich, I go back to Lily, and I get my crap straightened. I stay on my stomach for the first 45 minutes, and I usually fall asleep. The first time I did this, I awoke to try and respond to her question that I couldn't understand.

"Oh Di-pah?"

What the hell is she saying to me? I really don't want to get hurt here, and she's made it clear that she's capable of causing some serious damage... uh... "Yes?"

AHHHHHHH sweet Jesüs Gonzales! Did she break skin? I think she just put her fist through my back.

"Moh Dee-pah?"

"Yea! I said Yes!" This better feel good when I leave, 'cause right now I suddenly have sympathy for my mother. I feel like reading the Vagina Monologues and studying ancient rituals of glass eating in order to ease the pain those tiny Chinese hands are inducing on my back... and then it dawns on me what she's been asking me.

"NO MORE DEEPER! PLEASE! NO MORE DEEPER!"

"Oh, okay. You feel pain?"

"Yes! I feel pain!"

This breakthrough was the beginning for me. Now that I know that Lily is fully capable of climbing around on my back like a spider monkey looking for coconuts, and that she's got the strength of samurai, I am more comfortable with the fact that I need to tell her NOT to hurt me when I lie down. Which I did very well the next time I went back.

Lektor gets massages as often as is available because of the belief that it is not a luxury, but a necessity for a healthy, comfortable, and relaxed body. I tag along and subscribe to this belief as often as my testicles allow. Even that hindrance shouldn't be much of a factor after the most recent visit, when Lily demonstrated to me her ability to break my legs at the hip, curl them around into an oddly hairy pretzel, and slam my own foot into my scrotum.

"MOAH DEEPA?"

"NO LEE LEE! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. NO MORE DEEPER!"