It's a dude getting a Chinese chair massage in public. I have nothing against massages, Chinese or otherwise, and I'm perfectly willing to stipulate that this type of massage may be pure heaven. It's the whole out in the open part that gives me the willies.
It seems the chair massage phenomenon has invaded every shopping mall I visit. At the Park Place Mall here in Tucson, they're set up right next to the food court, and there's always three or four Asian guys standing there by their chairs loudly trying to lure you in. When you sit down to eat, you just can't look away.
Watching people get their massages is extremely uncomfortable. I always feel like I'm seeing something I shouldn't. And even if I force myself to turn away, I can still sense them there. They sit in the chair, stick their face in that toilet seat-looking thing, and the masseuse freakin' pounces on them.
Some people just sit there, like they're unsure of how to react. They sit in the chair, and the moment the guy touches them, you see them stiffen up. It's like they suddenly realize they're actually doing this in public, and they just want it to be over. And when it is done, they stand up, smile uncomfortably at the guy, and they rocket out of there like they've been chucked from a catapult.
Other people don't care. They're moaning and groaning and gyrating and you just know they're imagining that the little Chinese dude is really Angelina Jolie. I half expect to see them slip the guy another twenty for a happy ending.
Am I out of line thinking massage should be private? It has to stop somewhere. The next thing you know, we'll have open-air pap smears with hawkers out in the aisles of the shopping malls, luring people in with their colorful speculums and promises of fuzzy stirrups.