Who's Jim?

Sunday afternoon in the Big Easy!

This is how I spent my afternoon here in New Orleans. I walked into a Chinese Massage Parlour for a 12 minute foot rub, and came out two hours later. By the time I left, I felt like I had been 'ironed' flat. I was rubbed, patted, pulled, twisted, tugged and folded. It's the first time I've had a massage with my clothes on. There was no new-age music playing in the background and no lavender scented candle burning. The massage parlour is on one of the busiest streets in the French Quarters. The doors were wide open, so I could hear the traffic, street cars, sirens and people walking by. A lady stood at the door trying to lure in other customers by yelling 'MASSAGE, MASSAGE!' I could hear other patrons on tables next to me grunting and groaning with pleasure as their sore spots were being rubbed away. As unorthodox as it was, it was really very relaxing. When I eventually headed out, I felt like I'd spent two hours in an opium den. I've never been stoned, so I should say that I 'think' I felt how a person would feel after 2 hours in an opium den.

This is what travel is about; doing things you wouldn't normally do. I will certainly always remember my 2 hour, '12 minute Chinese foot massage.' Now, it's time to do something all too familiar; my workout. It's off to the gym I go. Every time I say 'it's gym time', someone on our trip asks me 'who's Jim?'