Speaking of the Unexpected...

So I have this friend… who is one of the nicest ladies I’ve ever met… which sometimes causes quite a dilemma... because… well… when she earnestly decides to help me in some form or fashion, whether I want it or not… I can have the hardest time saying no.

And thus, I found myself sitting nervously in her living room, shivering slightly as my jacket was deftly shucked off my shoulders and transported out of sight. Left to return stare for stare with the mini Buddhist statue in the family’s shrine, my mind frantically raced to make some sense of the events that had brought me to this moment.

It’s funny how the most innocent comment can lead to the most awkward of circumstances. Funny and unsettling. Okay, so it was mostly unsettling as I sat, mentally scrambling for a way, any way, to get out of this predicament. Alas, it was not to be, for just as I was formulating a super lame excuse to jet outta there, in SHE shuffled.

We shall call her Obaasan.

Obaasan, meaning “Honorable Grandmother”, was actually my friend’s mother-in-law. Imagine the tiniest Japanese lady you conceivably can, hunch her over a little, and your mental picture might come fairly close to the sight of this woman. I mean, I was sitting down when she came near, and my head cleared her waistline by a good amount. I felt gigantic as I assessed her tiny and fragile form.

“Um, there’s really no need…” I began to stammer.

“(Lots of Japanese I couldn’t understand) ja nai!” (I think that last part meant “no trouble!”)

And with that, Obaasan proceeded to give me the most excruciating ten minute shoulder massage of my entire existence. We’re talking serious strength flowing through this woman’s frail form. Between the bursts of pain exploding behind my eyes came the realization that, if she so chose, she could easily throw me over her shoulder and rip my arms off at the tender age of eighty-four. She turns eighty-five next year.

Now, I have nothing against massages. I’m very fond of them, in fact, and believe they can do a world of good when applied to tense, aching muscles. Deep tissue is my favorite, for I think if there’s no pain, there’s nothing beneficial happening. But it was decidedly strange to have an elderly Japanese woman I hardly knew alternately sitting and standing behind me, manipulating my muscles for all they were worth (and then some), all while being unable to communicate tolerable amounts of pressure effectively.

In the end, my shoulder did indeed feel better. Or maybe it was just numb. At any rate, it didn’t hurt anymore. I left the house with a final thank you, scrambled over to my bike, and pedaled home in something of a daze. Not quite able to cope with the fact that I had just experienced a merciless massage from a lady almost the same age as my very own grandmother, I occupied my mind by concocting different menus that could possibly account for such terrifying strength. Almost all of them included Wheaties in some form or fashion.

And all this occurred thanks to the 3 seconds it took me to utter, in the midst of idle conversation, “My shoulder has been bothering me a little”.