Posted by Danny

On vacation last week we were driving back from Hilo to Kona on the island of Hawai’i and passed through the small town of Kainalin.  As we drove through the center of town, my eyes caught a sign for Aloha Massage Academy – $40 for a student massage.

After flying in a plane for 13 hours with my three kids, Jesse, a three-year old and an 18 month old, I found the sign quite inviting.  My head was aching and my lower back felt like Spartacus had pierced it with his Arena Sword.  

And considering my propensity for thriftiness, it looked like both my back and my Wells Fargo checking account back in Raleigh would leave happy.  So I called and made an appointment for my brother-in-law, not Jesse – the other one Matt, and myself.

We discussed a couples massage, we could each save $5, but decided it would probably do us both good to have an hour all to ourselves.

I went first.

Apparently, in Hawaii, they have a “special” massage called Lomi Lomi.  I didn’t know that’s what I was getting when I entered the room with my new fierce fingered friend, Lila.

“You can remove your clothes.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

No longer a rub down rookie, I wasn’t taken aback by her demand.  I was, however, a bit surprised when I took off my shirt, dropped my drawers and turned to find the window behind me wide open.  No curtains, no shutters, actually – no glass.  Yes, Lila apparently wanted the natural breezes from Hawaii to cool me as she Lomi-Lomied. 

I glanced at The Original Donkey Balls Chocolate Factory next door as I scooted under the thin burgundy sheet.  I took a deep breath and got a slight hint of the sweet.  Life is good.

Lila knocked. 

“Come in Lila.”

She walked around the table and immediately placed her hand on my right buttock, the 17 thread count sheet the only thing separating her bare hand from my bare butt.  Using unusual hand coordination, she began shaking my body with ongoing butt thrusts while her other hand and forearm forcefully glided up the right side of my lumbar region.  She shook for a while on the right and then balance it out with an equally nice shake down on my left cheek.

She proceeded to use her elbow to work out the tension in my shoulders – and it hurt…so…good.

She commented on the tightness of my back muscles.  I told her I lived a stressful life.  I could tell she was concerned.

After a few minutes of working up and down my spinal cord, I heard Lila drag something across the floor.  A second later, she was pressing equally across both sides of my back, starting at the bottom and slowly moving toward my neck.  A bit startled at the evenness of the pressure, I thought to myself:  Is she on the table?  Did Lila actually climb up on the table?

Lomi Lomi – indeed, she did!  Lila was straddling my legs and using all of her girth, and there was plenty, to release the impenetrable constriction in my back.  I’d never had a masuess actually get on the table with me.  I wonder what she would have done had the tension been in my chest.

When my hour was up, I was re–laxed.  I didn’t even flinch when a woman with a bag full of chocolates walked by my window as I was standing up from the table.

And when I got home, I asked Matt, “Did Lila get on the table to work on your back?”

“What?  No.  They don’t do that!”

I didn’t want to break it to him, but I think he was cheated.  He just got one Lomi; I got both.

Lomi Lomi sweet Lila – I’ll see you in my dreams.