::: Golden Week, Part Quarta (5)

Then...it happens. I paid $12 for a 2-hour massage. It was incredible. That little 90-pound chinese massage lady bent me in ways that no human should bend and basically folded me into a pretzel about 12 times...all at the same time. Ever folded a table cloth...yeah...a little like that. Once...just once...it really was uncomfortable.

They give you these little paper shorts and shirt to wear if you want. Well, I put the shorts on and they had little sewn in underwear in them, I was like...this is unnecessary. I am not going swimming in paper shorts. Then she folded me into a pretzel and I totally ripped them right in that spot where as a man you hate to rip any kind of covering. Luckily I kept my manties on! That could have been embarrassing! What...you don't call them manties?

I feel a little sick at the end of this little assault and am excited we are taking a cab home. I mean, the little communist must have moved my stomach all around my internals. My stomach saw more of my internal cavity on this trip then ever before!

It takes us 45 minutes to find a cab in this city...it was unbelievable!!! It has never been like this. Every cab was full. I was dying. I wanted to lie down on the street and sleep. It was after midnight and I was super-relaxed...all except a little nausea from little Ms. Ali's boxing my body back there.

We finally get a cab thanks to that sickly loud whistle my Dad taught me as a kid...Dad and David Fultz. He helped me put what Dad told me into action. Not sure if he knows that. Hmm...seems like he did the same with learning to swim. Thanks man! Anyway...I caught the empty cabbie going the other direction and whistled him around to our side of the intersection. A great way to end the night!

Or...begin the morning...