"I Ain't Letting No Chinese Dude Hold My Hand" - Conclusion

..."Sorry, Nancy, I don't go into back rooms and disrobe my feet for anybody. It's either out in the open or not at all," I said while digging my tired, un-pampered heels into the ground. "Okay, my chicken little friend, this is my treat to you. We'll do it your way," she replied. I whispered, "Stop calling me chicken little, they're vegetarians." Fast forward 10 minutes: we are now laying back in big cushy chairs, in the front of the parlor, where the receptionist answers the phones and folks come in to get their vegetarian dumplings and herbal teas. Nancy has her head back, is half asleep with her eyes closed and is moaning softly. I had my head back, but with only one eye closed. I kept sweeping the parlor, Nancy, the 2 little Chinese men, the receptionist and the variety of people coming and going with the open eye (just call me Jack Bauer). After 15 minutes, I was bored, so I started talking to Nancy. "Hey, Nance, at the Hershey Park Spa they dip your feet in warm chocolate. I think they dip your hands in warm chocolate too." She said, "Oh, have you been there?" I laughed, "Nancy, have I ever been to any spa??!!" We laughed and talked for the next 45 minutes. It was delightful, after all was said and done. I probably won't ever do something like that again, but I'm happy for the experience. When I came home, my husband asked, "So, how was it?" "Well," I replied, "I didn't let the Chinaman hold my hand." I expected him to question me, but instead, he gave me a peck on the cheek, a pat on the back and said, "That's my girl."