Massage Afoot
Relaxing rivalry is waging in the International District and it's starting from the ground up.
By Lei Ann Shiramizu May 14, 2009

I stand on my feet a lot. Mostly in hard-heeled cowboy boots or black combat boots. And on solid concrete, too. Eight hours a day, five days a week, and I’m supposed to remain smiling. Ouch.
You can imagine that I was delighted to hear from one of my customers that a foot massage parlor opened up the street from Momo — just $29 for hour long relief. Yes, a stroll away and I could find myself in heaven, some strong-handed person rubbing away my foot woes. One day I’ll treat myself, I promised.
Another fine day, yet another patron came in and in hushed tones told me of her next destination (she didn’t want the word to spread too far): a $22 per hour foot massage just up Jackson. I informed her that I was already in the know. Oh no, this one is better, and just six blocks away, she promised. Now I’m really excited — choices!
So tonight was the night. I invited my husband to join me and together we entered the darkened room. Always short of time, we picked to closer destination and opted for the 1/2 hour special for $15. Neither of us knew what to expect.
Fully clothed, were each seated in our own plush red leather recliner and covered with a towel. We were told to lower our feet into a wooden tub of warm water. So far, so good. A muscular Chinese man proceeded to pummel my head — in the most enjoyable way — and scrunch my scalp. Hey, I thought this was a foot massage, I kept thinking but not resisting.
Next he worked on my arms (still not getting to my feet), pulling and massaging, plucking each finger and making everything snap, crackle and pop.
At last he reached my feet.
Ouch, oooh and do that again, I thought, as this man used his knuckles to break up whatever knots I have in my feet. He rubbed hard and pinched, pulled and pummeled. I know this all sounds unpleasant, but really, it was quite enjoyable in a masochistic I-know-I’ll-feel-better-when-he’s-done sort of way.
He moved up to my calves and then — whoa! Leaned over me and started pushing down on my thighs, too. Hey, I never felt that one before.
Back to the feet. A hot towel and then it’s all over.
When we went to pay, feeling rather light headed, the woman said that next time we should go for the hour long session. I’m looking forward to that, and I’ll be sure and wear less clothing, too, at least on my arms (since it is, after all, a foot massage).
I’ll report in later about the hour long massage and the foot massage business further away. Until then, take a load off your feet.
Imperial Foot Massage
Traditional Chinese Foot Soak
900 South Jackson Street
206.903.0878
Open 7 days a week, 10:00 am – midnight