Every week, John Salley, onetime Bad Boy and currently the arachnoid half of the Spider and the Henchman podcast, will regale us with an amusing and occasionally salacious story from his playing days. Today: when massages go technically right.
This is the deal: I'm in New York City. I'm playing with the Miami Heat. It's 1992. We're staying at 42nd and Lexington at the Grand Hyatt.
Now, I'm playing more minutes than usual, so I find a bellman and say, "Hey, I gotta get a massage."
The guy is like, "Well, we've got a great masseuse."
I said, "Really? Is she fine?"
"That's what I mean. Great masseuse. Great massage."
I hit him with a twenty, and he tells me I should have some tip money on me.
I go, "Really?" He says yeah. So I call one of my teammates to tell him what's up.
"We got a massage lady coming in to work on us." Looks like it's on.
This lady walks in. From Russia. Banging body. She walks in, black hair, blue-green eyes, barely speaks English. I'm telling you: fine.
And what does she do? She gives us a real massage.
I'm like, "Yo, what's up?" But she doesn't understand.
I say: "A'ight. I might want another massage. I'll call you back a little later if I want another one."
She looks at me and says, "Why would you need another massage?"
I walk her downstairs—Mike Tyson taught me you should always walk people downstairs—and I go straight to the bellman and ask for my twenty back.
He's like, "What are you talking about?"
"Give me back my twenty."
"Nothing. That's why I'm asking for my twenty back."
He gives it back. I put her in a cab. I go back upstairs.
I didn't press. I put up a certain amount of money. If they don't understand what's going on, or if there's no vibe? Let 'em roll. That's how you do it.
Image courtesy Andy Gray