Monday, September 19, 2005


While strolling down the Newbury Street in Boston yesterday, Mrs. Vavoom decided to get a manicure. "Great," I thought as I held the two paintings we purchased earlier in the day. It was overcast and I was worried we may experience one of those crazy summer showers we've grown accustomed to.

I waited outside the salon for 20 minutes. I decided to enter since I was sick of looking at overpriced clothing in the neighboring stores. As I entered the salon, a gaggle of Vietnamese women began speaking to me very quickly, in accents that could only be ascribed to speaking in tongues.

"You sit here, honey. I fix you up good," said one of the stylists.
"No, no. I'm here with her, my wife."
"Honey, we know, we know... you sit there. Fix you up good."

I sat in the chair for about 3 minutes. I picked up a time magazine and started reading about systematic rape in Darfur. A sad tale, indeed. Suddenly, I felt hot oil on the back of my neck. "What the hell," I yelled out.

"Relax, honey. Relax. Massage. Fix you up good."
"No, no massage. No thank you."

She began beating on me. Using her elbow, she started poking around my upper back and neck. "Ow, ow, ow, ow. Please, no." "Relax honey, that your problem. Not relax. Fix you up good." Next came the karate chops, which really don't feel good on the back of your neck, last time I checked. The terror continued for 10 minutes.

Halfway through, Mrs. Vavoom, who was not in eyeshot, saw me. "No, no, he hates being touched by strangers. No massage." "Honey, that why your man can't relax. You don't let him."

In the end, my back was covered with oil. What about my shirt? Well, my favorite Berkeley t-shirt was thoroughly stretched out and soaked with goopy massage slime. It was a long trip home, I'll tell you that much.

In other news, classes start today. Man, it's been a long time since I've felt nervous about classes. It's exciting. Certainly it's better than getting violated by a Vietnamese manicurists.


Blogger LoraLoo said...

I find it interesting you were reading a story about rape as you were accosted. Talk about irony. Hope they didn't expect payment, and I also hope that somewhere in there your shoulders felt better.

Have a great day in class!

8:16 AM  
Blogger Jenn said...

I don't like to be touched by strangers either. I always get messed with because of it. I tend to wear my shirt that says "Don't Touch Me" alot. ;)

8:48 AM  
Blogger Fred said...

Too funny, Lora!

Now that you're in the big city, I guess you'll have to pick up a few key phrases in Vietnamese like "Don't touch me!". Who knew?

4:11 PM  
Blogger Lily said...

LOL, sounds like a Mad TV skit.

5:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks Vavoom! I am laughing out loud!

6:29 PM  
Blogger Davydgrey said...

I was just reminded of a South Park episode where Cartman thinks he is a Vietnamese errr woman.

6:36 PM  
Blogger thc said...

That's right! Your inability to relax is all Mrs. V's fault!

10:36 PM  
Anonymous Raine said...

Very funny, V. I hate those manicure parlors, which is why my nails always look bad.

Anyway, let us know how the first day of school went.

11:47 PM  
Blogger Merry Stitcher said...

Stop wearing those Berkeley t-shirts, V. People are obviously mistaking you for a tourist!

12:18 AM  
Blogger RT said...

Mmmm... I could handle a hot oil massage from some big hunky lookin' dude that won't take his hands off of me...

Does that shop cater to women as well as it does men?

(So give it up already! How was the first day???)

12:32 AM  
Blogger An80sNut said...

I'd say that you are lucky she didn't say "Me love you long time" as your wife walked in.

I need one of Jenn's shirts for my Dark Marten moods. I'll be checking online shortly.

I wonder what would happen if you walked back into that place with a neck brace and a court summons. B)

11:27 AM  
Blogger dusty said...

damn Newbury St is now a haven for vietnamese manicures? wow..times have changed from when i lived there in the 70's...

3:35 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home