Friday, March 4, 2016

Big Trouble, In Little China

Thursday morning, 6am. I knew I shouldn't have drank Wednesday night. But see, when you have people who like to drink like I do, then ask if you want to go out for a drink, how the fuck are you going to say no?

Today's story isn't about the shit show that was Wednesday evening, rather, it's a story about what happened ON Thursday. In Chinatown. At my massage appointment. With my masseuse, we'll call her, Ming-Li.

I woke up on Thursday in a haze. I called into work "sick" because what transpired on Wednesday night was something out of J-Wunder's play book. All bad with nothing good coming out of it...not even a hook-up. Just booze, shit talking and A LOT OF TACO TRUCK. Oh, hey Ghetto Genius, if you're reading this, you're an asshole for not hanging out. Where was I???? Oh yeah, my massage.

So I get to Chinatown, still drunk and wait for my appointment to start. I get called up and walked to one of those rooms with the tranquil-ass music, candles and scent of strippers and Zen. I need this. I need something to kill this feeling of death because right now, I want to puke and shit my brains out. I strip down to nothing, wrap a towel around me and wait for my masseuse to arrive. Then enters Ming-Li.

Here stood 4 foot 2 inches of Asian. Feet looked like two bricks with the bottoms looking like they were dipped in broken glass. Hands looked like they went through 5 World Wars. Face was something you'd only see on Animal Planet. This was the woman that was suppose to take my stress, "self-inflicting flu" and pain away. To be honest, I was actually glad the broad wasn't smoking hot. Otherwise, I probably would have slipped her a five dollar bill and asked for a reach-around after.

And then the conversation begins:

ML: YOU. Lay down here. Face down now.

Me: Oh, I don't even get a handshake first? *failed joke*

ML: *blank stare* Don't waste time. Lay now.

Me: Alright, baby girl. Easy...E-Zeeeee.

ML: Where it hurt?

Me: EVERY.WHERE. Do what you Asians do, Ling-Ling.

ML: It's Ming-Li!!! So you want full body special?


Now, what one would expect, would be getting rubbed down from head to toe. Not with this crazy ass Asian lady. Hell no! What this woman did surprised the shit out of me...mainly because I was super hungover.

As I'm lying face down, with my eyes closed trying not to puke and shit myself, I suddenly feel like a gorilla jumped on my back and was ready to put the beat down on me. I turn the fuck around and what do I see? Motherfucking Ming-Li, standing on my shit like she's representing China on the balance beam at the goddamn Olympics. This is the truth people.

Me: What the fuck are you doing, Jackie Chan?

ML: Ming-Li I say! Full body special. Make you feel goooooooood. Head down.

I put my head down and all I can think to myself was, "This bitch better not try some freaky shit. My days of hooking up with ugly massage therapists just to get it for free are OVER." Ming-Li starts whatever the fuck she's doing and within seconds, I was digging what the fuck she was doing. People, I don't know if you ever had an Asian midget massage you while they were standing on your back and if you haven't, you better get on that shit ASAP. I've never in my life felt something so exhilarating yet, relaxing. It was like this bitch was doing the River Dance (but to Chinese techno music) and just fucking me up in ways that loosened up every inch of my body.

Don't get me wrong though, this broad's feet were tougher than sandpaper and brillo pads put together, but for fucks sake, how feet like that made me feel so good was anybody's guess. Then it all turned for the worse 20 minutes in...

Relaxed and feeling my Chi in this motherfucking place, I began to get the hangover sweats. Like, really bad. Dripping with every ounce of what I drank the night before, I stop Ming-Li and ask her if she can give me some water. I take two drinks, lay my face back down and start to become ok again. I start to breathe really slow and start to count backwards from 100 because what I think is about to happen next, probably won't be good at this goddamn moment in time. Ming-Li is fucking me up like a boss and I'm enjoying every second of it...well, that was until she did some Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu shit that made this moment one I'll never forget.

As I was right fucking there shaking my hangover sweats off, this bitch takes both my arms (as if she was about to crucify me), then jams her heels in my mid back. As she's doing this, she's saying, "Ok, this the fun part." Fun part my ass, people. What happens next, I'll never be invited back to this place ever again...

Ming-Li goes to town on me in this position while her feet move from my neck, down to my tail bone and back up. While this is happening, my stomach is beginning to speak and it was at that moment, I knew I had to focus on breathing and talk myself into not puking or shitting myself. For 27 seconds it worked, then the pre-puke saliva came coming...

This crazy bitch says some shit in Chinese, repositions my arms, pulls me up from behind like that scene from Titantic, digs her heels right above my ass cheeks and then all fucking HELL BROKE LOOSE.



The pressure on my body was too much. Puke was coming out like that scene from the Exorcist. Shit was coming out of me like that scene in Bridemaids where Melissa McCarthy is shitting in the sink and her butthole was creating lava. I'm trying to tell Ming-Li to stop but this bitch has me in such an awkward position that I can't even talk. Puke is just flying out as well as all the shit I drank and tacos and hot sauce I consumed on the late night. Don't even get me started about me shitting myself in the towel I'm wrapped in. This was like a Quentin Tarantino movie gone wrong, but oh so right. It was like I couldn't stop. It was like Ming-Li was actually cleansing me of my demons. It was like she was giving me an Asian private exorcism her damn self.

Ming-Li finally stops, jumps off and then stops screaming at me in Chinese as tears are running down my face, puke is splattered on the floor and walls and shit is pretty much running down my leg and ball sack. Side note: Definitely had too much hot sauce the night before. But I digress.

Me: Fuck. Why? Why did you do that, Ming-Li? Who the fuck massages someone like that? You're evil. Sooooo evil. *tears still running down face*

ML: Ching, chang, bo-luk, sing lai cho. (not sure what the fuck any of this means but I'm pretty sure it was something along the lines of "You're a dead man and now the Triads will be on the hunt to kill you and your family, monkey mouth bitch."

I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know what else to say. That said, I did what any other person would have done in my situation...

I rolled the fuck off the table, grabbed my clothes, threw a hundred dollar bill at this bitch and darted towards the door, still wrapped in a shit covered white towel that I could have given zero fucks about. The worst part was that as I was speed walking, what I left behind me was a trail of dookie and size 11 footprints.

Lightheaded, ashamed and pathetic I head into an alley to gather my thoughts and figure out what the fuck just happened. I take my towel off and use the clean parts to wipe whatever poo is still on my body. At this point, I don't even care if I get it all off since I drove here. I put my clothes on and have a seat on the curb to calm my nerves. It was then that some little ass Asian dude walks towards me with a dead fucking chicken in his hands and says, "You look like you had long night. I sell you this chicken for five dolla. It's good luck chicken. Get you pretty girl." It was then and only then I could only laugh about what just happened. I look at this cat, hand him a ten dollar bill, he hands me the dead chicken, I get in my car and take off.

Once I got home, my roommate looked at me and said, "What in God's fucking name happened to you and why the FUCK are you holding a dead fucking chicken?!"

My reply: "Life choices and bad decisions, bruh. Life choices and bad fucking decisions."

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