I had an intense deep-tissue massage the other day.
There are more massage parlors in Vallarta than you can shake a stick at (and, yes, I said, 'stick'). The only things more plentiful than massages are taco stands -- and Canadians.
The pain in my neck became too much to hope to ignore. Either I took a long break from writing or I ponied up the dough and pay for a professional massage.
I don't prefer masseuses for their small, soft hands. I always get the sense she's afraid to really touch me. On the flip side, most of the masseurs around town might as well be masseuses, if you catch my drift. Hello! So...it was slim pickings for moi. But, to parlay the French just once more, I had bon chance and remembered being handed a flyer to a tiny salon next to Hotel Mercurio.Just so happened that the masseur who handed me the flyer was on duty. How much? Oh that much. Um, no thank you. The price was really quite amazingly steep. More expensive than what I would be charged in, say, Germany! I politely headed out the door.
The man followed me out and offered a reduced - and more sensible - rate for in-house service since he was getting off work. But I'd already made up my mind. Then he offered a further reduction. Well! What good is a mind if it can't be changed? "When do you get off work?" I asked. "I'm off now." Exxxcellent.
As I waited outside for him I began to think something was amiss. Close to 15 mins later he appeared -- with all his stuff. It seems the boss lady got pissed at losing another customer unembarrassed to decline her expensive rates and fired homeboy on the spot. Damn, talk about clocking out! We took a cab to my apartment, he set up the table and towels and oils, and I received a most professional 60min full-body massage. Ahhhh...wonderful. Instead of losing a casual client, he gained a personal one.
UPDATE: Two days later and already he's working at another parlor
Pedro Velazquez, certified massage therapist
UC-Davis Family Medicine Residency
+52 322.169.7082
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