After making my way across the island of Java in Indonesia I ended up in Bali for a couple of days of being a normal holiday maker, eating western junk food and recharging the batteries.
I had made up my mind that I would be a big girl and get myself a pampering. I wanted a haircut, shave, back waxing and a massage so I took to the streets to pick a nice looking spa where I could get in touch with my feminine side and be de-trampified. I was stopped on my walk by a ridiculously camp man who asked if I wanted a haircut. Being on autopilot from brushing away the pushy shop owners of Bali I declined and walked on but then I remembered that a haircut was exactly what I was looking for so I turned back and negotiated a price of about ten quid for all four treatments.
The camp man's name was Johann, probably still is. Johann was very friendly to the point of flirting which I quite enjoyed and he had an amusing way of pronouncing my name.
'You very handsome Gleeen'
'Thanks very much Johann, not so bad yourself' I stopped short of the cheeky wink though.
Haircut: Not a disaster, too much off the sideburns if I'm being fussy
Shave: After the haircut Johann ran out of the spa and round the corner returning a couple of minutes later with a disposable bic. I don't think he'd ever shaved a beard off before because he went straight in against the grain making it painful but it was sort of better than doing it myself.
Next up the good bit, a half an hour massage. So which one of the pretty girls in the spa will be taking over for this? I had my fingers crossed for the slightly older woman because I was a little conscious that after being on my own for quite some time a pretty girl's hands on my skin might get me over excited. I went in to the massage room and took off my t-shirt.
'Okay Gleeen can you lie down on the table please'
'Oh so... cos I thought maybe one of the girls might... err no problem yes, yes, so... okay'
I could be comfortable with this, what difference does it make, it's about having the massage not being felt up.
'So Gleeen you want one hour?'
'Half an hour is fine'
'And shall I massage the front as well?'
'Just the back thanks'
'Ooh hoo hoo, why not front? You shy?'
'Jast the back is fine'
As much as I wanted to be all modern and okay with the massage I was not relaxed in the slightest. It wasn't that it was a man doing the massage, it was how much he seemed to be enjoying it. I was regretting the earlier light hearted flirty banter.
Johann asked if I wanted my legs done as well, I decided that yes this would be fine.
'Okay can you take your shorts off?' he said. Please just the shorts, let me leave my pants on, please just the shorts. Thankfully it was just the shorts.
This was only my second ever proper massage so I'm not sure if the massage moves were official or not but I was not comfortable with the bollock contact when he got to the top of my legs. I wondered what level of invasion it would take for me to tell Johann to stop and then it happened: he touched my feet.
I jumped up and rather embarrassingly barked 'Don't touch my feet. Please'.
'Ooh hoo hoo, you ticklish Gleeen?' He playfully tickled my foot again.
What I said next is not something I'm proud of, in fact I was ashamed of myself but I really do have unpleasantly ticklish feet. In a raised voice that most of the spa would have heard I angrily declared 'Do that again and I'll kick you in the face'. Johann didn't seem too offended and gave me a tilted head pursed lips smile. The smile told me that the fucker was planning to tickle me again.
There is a school of thought that suggests the less comfortable you are around gays (and I'd decided Johann was definitely gay, not just camp now) the more likely you are to be a gay. If that is the case then at that moment I was Julian Clary listening to the pet shop boys spooning Dale Winton.
I checked my watch, the half an hour was nearly up, I couldn't wait. Just the right leg to go. All the way up for a little testicle contact then all the way down to...
'I TOLD YOU DON'T TOUCH MY FEET' I'd been playfully tickled again. I made up my own mind that that was the end of the massage and put my shorts back on.
Waxing: Unsurprisingly Johann took the lead again and there was no doubt in my mind that he was going to enjoy ripping the hair off my back. It hurt and to finish off Johann reached around to the front of my shorts and asked if I wanted anything else waxed. I laughed off the offer, it was time to get out of there.
I didn't really get the girly pampering I'd hoped for but at least I looked and felt less like a hobo than when I went in. On top of that if I was feeling lonely that night I was fairly sure I had somewhere to go for a bit of bicurious experimentation!
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