Yesterday, Christian, some Austrian friends of ours, and I went to our awesome massage place downtown for an evening of pampering and dinner. This place in addition to other wonderful little details, has a massage menu from which you can pick from the relaxing (Bali full body oil massage, Hot river stone massage) to the mysterious (Indian navel moxibustion, anyone?). As I was still feeling the affects of a magazine-sponsored party the night before (not exactly conducive with our money-saving goals), and perhaps a bit loopy, it struck me as an excellent idea to request the “Japanese points massage” and a “Fire Foot Reflexology,” having never tried either one.
The hostess’ eyes grew large and she pointed at the “Fire Foot Reflexology” menu item and said, “It has fire!” Being as I am not the world’s most sensible person, I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Oh. Okay. No problem.”
And that’s how I ended up spending and hour with a very entertained little man setting first my feet and then my knees on fire. Basically, the way it worked is he took a wet towel, wrapped it around the area he was going to set on fire, and then drew lines on it with an alcohol-filled syringe. Then he clicked his little lighter, flames leaped a foot into the air. He let the whole thing burn for a little while, and then he snuffed the fire out with another wet towel. Then he rubbed my very hot feet and started the process over again. I’m a bit of a masochist and subscribe to the theory that for a massage to do any good, it has to be a little bit painful, but this was quite possibly the most stressful foot massage I’ve ever had. People just aren’t meant to be set on fire.
That being said, I’m totally going for the 120 minute “Full Body Tibetan Fire Treatment” when we return next month.