Adventures in Thai Massage With Uncle Frank

Prologue and FYI for fairly new readers: Uncle Frank is not my uncle. He's my former roommate and dearest Boo, but he is by no means related to me in any way. Introduction to Uncle Frank, here and here

Uncle Frank called me yesterday. 

"I'm taking you on a fabulous date, tomorrow, honey," he said. 

"Where are we going?"

"You deserve a massage for being fabulous."

"Aw, a massage? For me? Awwww... dude, really?

"Yes. You and me, girl. It's going to be fabulous, fabulous, fabulous..."

So this morning Frank picked me up in the Beemer one of his celebrity clients just, like, totally gave him for no good reason other than: he's fabulous! That's why! and whisked me off to a Thai Massage parlor on La Brea for a full ninety-minute rub-down. 

Frank and I arrived, excitedly and were promptly guided to our room, which seemed kind of odd at first, but then I just kinda figured THEY figured that Frank was gay and we were BFF so it didn't matter if we got naked in front of one another. 

"You take off clothes and lie down and you take off clothes and lie down." 

Frank and I stood blinking at each other before I offered to close the curtain between our two beds. 

"What you doing? This romantic! You silly girl!" my masseuse gasped, hitting me with a towel playfully. 

"What? No! So he can have his privacy..."

"He your husband! You see him naked to make baby in your belly. You see him naked is no big deal. Is good to see naked. Is romantic! I do sensual couples massage for good, happy couple with baby!"

"That's very kind of you but he's not really my husband!" I tried to explain. 

Frank jumped in, "We're friends! We're not married. I'm not the baby's daddy..."

"What? You two no make this baby? You are not wife?"

"Well.. I'm SOMEONE's wife but not his... He's my friend."

"I like boys."

"See? And I don't have a penis."

That's when the poor masseuse who was so confused at this point, finally got it. She and everyone else at the parlor burst into hysterical laughter like we were the craziest motha-fuckas in the universe. 

Frank and I took our respective bows for being the bearers of such funny.

"Oh, my! You just friend! I thought I do couples massage very sensual!"

"I know. And, really...  that's so sweet of you. Maybe next time?"

It was then that I wondered if I had been wrong to say something. Perhaps we should have gone along with the whole "sensual couples massage" thing. Out of sheer curiosity! It might have been kind of funny. Awkward, yes, but hilarious. And what good is life if not uncomfortably hysterical? Oh, well. Maybe next time. 

"You two just friend! You no husband! I thought you said you were married, on the phone! I so embarrass!" 

"No! It's fine! People think we're married all the time!" I tried to reassure. "Right Frank?"

"Yes! Like that one time... You know. That one time?"

"Yes. I do know. That one time!"

Except, after some thought I remembered that Frank was right! There WAS that one time and until today, I had forgotten all about it. About five years ago, when Frank and I were roommates, we decided to sign up for a shared-account at our local Russian-owned and operated video rental-house (which also housed some of the great post-modern pornographic classics). Frank told the woman behind the counter that we were married: Mr and Mrs. Woolf, respectively and she believed him and gave us one account and two rental cards. I thought nothing of the possible ramifications of our video-union until months later when I was faced with "$18.34 in late fees for AssMen 2, 3 and 4, which your husband rented over three weeks ago and never returned. You pay late fees, now or you cannot rent!"

It would have been all fine and dandy had I not showed up to the counter with a guy I'd just started dating and an obscure new-wave flick I was trying to impress him with. 

Hi, my name is AWKWARD and I watch gay porn with the husband I failed to mention!

But I digress... the MASSAGE PARLOR. We're at a massage parlor. 

For the duration of the massage, separated by a curtain, Frank and I lay naked side by side, moaning and groaning and howling through our heavenly, often-times rough-n-tumble rub-down, mumbling to one another through the curtain until we both finally passed out, drooling, only to be awakened suddenly with an, "okay. You done." 

What, no happy ending? 

Ah, but who needs a happy ending when you have a fabulous gay husband to skip down the fabulous puke-stained streets of Hollywood with? 



CaraBee | 6:40 PM

I had a massage when I was 6 months pregnant and it was AWESOME. That is one great friend to take you out for one.

I've always been a little worried about THOSE kinds of massage parlors, the non spa type, where happy endings are the norm (at least in my mind). My luck, the day I went there would be a police raid and I'd be all, "I swear I'm just here for a massage" and the cops would be all "yeah, right, no one just comes for a massage" and then I'd be all over the news, they'd take away my child, I wouldn't be able to find work and I'd wind up on the street turning tricks to support my crack habit. It could happen.

prescott | 7:14 PM

Am I the only dumbass here wondering about the physicality of performing a full body massage on a pregnant woman? It may have something to do with the fact that I've never had one...

toyfoto | 7:17 PM

First: I clicked on this in my rss reader thinking I was clicking on another writer's blog and that it really was HER uncle Frank. I was like: Hmmm this is really unlike so-and-so ... blink. blink. blink. hmmmm.

Now I'm laughing twice.

Secondly: I wish I had a gay bff who make the baby and takes me for Thai massages. just sayin'


Ah, yes, Prescott. The preggo-massage is unlike your standard, lie-on-stomach massage for obvious reasons. You pretty much lie on your side and are rubbed like so... and then a flip on the other side... Also, there's a lot of feet rubbing and lower back, hip kneading. But it's funny because halfway through, Frank's like "Hey, Bec? Is your masseuse walking on your back, too?" Ha! He didn't get it, either.


Oh and Carabee, you're comment is classic.

MamaFeelgood | 7:45 PM

Dear Uncle Frank,

You are fabulous and need to move to North Carolina.

Rachael | 9:35 PM

I miss having gay boys around. I need a Frank.

Ashley | 9:48 PM

"Hi, my name is AWKWARD and I watch gay porn with my husband I've failed to mention!"

Laughing, laughing, still laughing.

Maria Melee | 6:43 AM

When I went on my honeymoon cruise with my husband, I splurged on a massage. I was already kind of nervous because everyone who worked there was South African and gorgeous and 18. These lanky modelwomen take me to the back into this cedar-lined room and they're like, okay, you can disrobe.

And on the other table in the room this dude is looking at me with a mix of "hell yeah" and "uh..." on his face.

I get all shaky because I'm a dweeb and I secretly can't deal with confrontation.

"Excuse me," I say politely, "I'm not really comfortable having this massage with another man in the room?"

The guy seconds my opinion half-heartedly.

The chick says something like "Don't worry, this is how the couple's massage works."

Booking receptionist: FAIL.

Anonymous | 7:11 AM

Seriously, I didn't take the time to click on the link, and I was really thinking this was your real uncle until I read that you used to be roommates. I was extrememly disturbed/confused at your reactions up until I decided Uncle Frank couldn't be your real uncle. Shew! I was having my doubts about you!!

Jaelithe | 8:39 AM

He's ARCHER'S Uncle. Honorary Uncle. That's why she calls him Uncle Frank.

Also, I agree with Ashley that "Hi, my name is AWKWARD and I watch gay porn with my husband I've failed to mention" is the best line EVAH in the history of blog posts. Or at least the best line by you this month.


Okay, I've just clarified the uncle thing. And so has Jaelithe. (Thank you. Jaelithe)

kittenpie | 9:10 AM

That is fantastic! Everyone should have a friend-husband like that. And a massage, for that matter. hmmm.

Unknown | 9:30 AM

Is this Uncle Frank of your's the same Frank that was on Clean House? I could swear he was just on my tv screen last night. He IS fabulous!

Anonymous | 10:49 AM

Could you tell Uncle Frank to tell his nice celebrity frinds to head south the next time they're feeling so generous? There are fabulous people here who desperately need better better transportation.

Maternal Mirth | 10:52 AM

Yeeesss! You made my day, GGC. I am still cracking up ...

Anonymous | 12:57 PM

Uncle Frank sounds completely awesome! And I have to say that "Hi, my name is AWKWARD and I watch gay porn with my husband I've failed to mention!" is the funniest thing I have read all day. Thanks for the laugh!

Anonymous | 1:06 PM

That's the funniest stuff I've read in a while...thanks for the laughs!
And, you sure redefined the happy ending to a massage. Someone as fabulous as Frank, is crazy about you and treats you to Thai massage. Your cup runneth over!
p.s. I loved the video of you and Frank shopping the first time you showed it, and I was still laughing through it the 2nd time around! He's a doll!

Anonymous | 2:29 PM

Oh my god, I'm rolling here! "What, no happy ending?" Awesome awesome awesome.

Steph(anie) | 3:47 PM

And where be new pictures of the handsome Uncle Frank for us to admire?

Anonymous | 3:49 PM

I'm fairly new here....but OMG that was frieking HILARIOUS! I can just imagine what your poor date was thinking "What the %$#&?!" Ha! You can't make this stuff up!


Hm... latest pics of Uncle Frank? Shit -- I think the latest pics I have are from my book party:

Anonymous | 6:50 PM

oh my god that was funny. so many types of awesome all in one post. uncle frank can be my fake uncle any day. (i'll even go for a couples massage with him... haha)

Heza Hekele | 8:49 PM

Fabulous story! Simply Fabulous!!

Anonymous | 2:01 PM

Trust me, you made the right decision not to do the naked massage thing. A Colorado hotel where my hubby and I stayed a few years ago comped us with a couples massage. We are very uptight, WASP-y people. It's astonishing that we were able to have three children considering our extreme modesty. So there we were with this very large pushy Russian lady who started grabbing at my hubby's pants and yelling at him to "take clothes off!" I fled and he joined me shortly afterwards, blushing furiously. The massage woman followed us out of the spa and into the lobby, yelling, "is sen-shoe-all! Not dirty!" I cringe just thinking about it.