<pre><code>I sit on a large cushion-like chair that can fit almost two people. The masseuse, only three years older than me, enters the room and greets my presence. She diligently lays my feet on a wooden bucket of warm water. The water is a little warmer than the water I use in the shower. Soporific. My brain signals my eyes to close and relax, but I refuse to because the most ecstatic but comfortable feeling is yet to come. My friend and I exchange glances to express the awesome feeling. The lady then fetches a towel and gently cleans my wet feet as if they are diamonds. For a moment I am a king in his palace.
After the preliminary treatment, the masseuse meticulously examines my feet. She softly pushes parts of my feet with her delicate thumb. Her touch is so smooth that I want to stay in the room forever. You must have very little sleep these days, she looks up and says. Her diagnosis is correct. In fact, she is rarely wrong, and every time she detects a problem, I give her a dazzled look. She enjoys my unchanging reaction. Ready? She asks for my consent to commence on the trip to heaven. Lets go.
She starts with the toes. With her dexterous fingers, she bends, stretches, and pushes against my stiff toes. I sporadically moan. It just feels so comfortable. Her hands move up to my feet and operate from there. She pushes against them in all kinds of directions, as if she was preparing dough for baking. All of my nerves concentrate on the soothing sensation. After about twenty minutes, she abruptly increases her strength. Woo-ah-ee!? I make the weirdest sounds because of the sudden change of pace. She continues to increase the intensity every five minutes or so. She utilizes all her fingers to press against my feet and loosens my indurate muscles. The process is indescribable.
The climax comes when she literally punches my feet. I look down and her delicate fingers are nowhere to be seen. She transforms into a relentless beast, eager to pound something down. My feet become the prey. I wonder how that gargantuan strength derives from her thin arms. My hands vehemently make a tight fist and squeezes out the sweat on my palm. My friend and I produce a harmonious symphony of shrieks and moans. This is not because of pain, but because of the blissful feeling. The masseuse, however, remains calm and focused.
After the peak moment, my friend and I doze off. The lady asks if we want a drink, but we are too sleepy to order. Classical music plays in the room through the four large speakers. We wake up after an hour, pay ten dollars and head happily home. The lady says goodbye and makes an embarrassing comment, You two snore like pigs.
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<p>Ten dollars. It may not be worth a lot of money elsewhere, but it is definitely worth something in Beijing. With ten dollars (equivalent to about 83 RMB), I can do just about anything: have a delicious meal, get a professional haircut, go to the movies, or even buy a decent pair of slacks. But to get the most out of ten dollars, I would take my friend and help ourselves get a comfortable, stress-blowing foot massage. It is our last sanctuary from the hectic pace of high school life. Ten dollars for a ticket to an hour and a half of heaven? Not a bad deal at all.</p>
<p>If you're applying to a leftist school that enjoys romance novelesque essays, then you're in. I'm not saying the essay wasn't well-written. You do have a flair with writing. I only question whether it was appropriate...</p>
<p>Doesn't really demonstrate anything about you, except that you're rather disturbed. And weren't you the 19-year-old guy who pretended to be a Yalie?</p>
<p>For real though. I live in Bangkok and this is THE capital of foot massage parlors. Just on the soi (street) I live on there are what ... 5 of them? They really lack originality for new businesses. It's kinda sad.</p>
<p>OP's essay reminds me of something a mainstream chinese author Wei Hui (Shanghai Baby, Marrying Buddha) wrote. She basically uses the same metaphor as OP. To me it sounds incredibly lame and unoriginal. Maybe it's because I live in an Asian country and know for a fact that the girls working in these parlors are mostly prostitutes. After the massage they usually suggest something "extra", but, of course, it costs "extra" too. I wouldn't use this essay if I were you.</p>
<p>I was on the train once and talking to one of the adcoms of a college... this really IMPORTANt, LISTEN WHAT HE SAID!.. he told that when they read college essays, they read the first sentence and if they see its the same gist as everyone's, THEY THROW IT OUT!!!</p>
<p>no offense, they will throw your essay out right away... it had no signifance to it and you seem to divert in different directions and not connecting it in the end.... and whats the topic</p>
<p>AND IT IS SOME HOMOSEXUAL THREESOME FLIRTATION PORNO BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR FRIEND AND YOUR MASSUESE</p>
<p>
[quote]
My friend and I produce a harmonious symphony of shrieks and moans
[/quote]
THIS IS EVEN APPROPRIATE??????? WHAT THE HELL IS THIS???????????</p>
<p>JHU? Is it for JHU?? I spent my money on a really interesting way. Hehe. I bought a magical wand and turned myself into Harry Potter. Just kidding. I did use it to buy a wand though.</p>
<p>I am convinced that you wrote this essay for JHU. Basically I bought a magical wand that brought me to Osaka in a flick, then I ended up engaging in a conversation with Basho(a haiku master) over two cups of hot sake. </p>
<p>It took me well over two days to come up with that topic...My dad suggested me to write about how I love my little sister. Bleh, my parents are no help at all.</p>
<p>I'm fairly sure it's not how you'd "realistically" spend it. In fact, it really isn't supposed to be about the $10 at all (although, right or wrong, I mentioned it too). Look at this comment on the Hopkins admissions blog:</p>
<p>Introducing the Admissions Committee VIII: Rachel Cowan Jacobs
Territory: AL, FL, GA, KY, LA, MS, NC, SC, TN, USVI and every country outside of the USA.
What are your Admissions pet peeves? (What drives you crazy?): It drives me crazy when applicants forget that the JHU essay question asks about an adventure theyd plan, not how to spend $10 in a day. The question is not about how to spend a free day or how to get through 24 hours with only $10. The question is about going on an adventure. </p>
<p>Of course, that's only one person in that office, and if you aren't from her territory, your person could have a completely different philosophy on the essay.</p>
<p>Edit: Also, another person made this comment...</p>
<p>Introducing the Admissions Committee VII: Daniel Creasy
Territory: New England, which we define as Maine, Vermont, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island.
What are your Admissions pet peeves? (What drives you crazy?): Here's just a sample of few of my pet peeves: (1) Applicants who submit their application with one name, their test scores with a different name, and their transcript or recs with another arrangement of their name. <a href="2">b</a> Spending $10 to go to the beach or hiking and forgetting that it is supposed to be an ADVENTURE. (3) Also with the essay, spending $10 on gas or starting one's essay with a phrase such as "$10 does not go a long way in today's society."<a href="4">/b</a> Admissions stalkers -- you know who you are. Email us with questions, not just to say "hi." (5) Applicants who have their Mom or Dad make all of their phone calls or write all of their emails for them.</p>
<p>Exactly. It's just another opportunity to show who you are as a person. Did missme really send this essay? It seems too sexual to me..."Her thin arms", "moans", "path to heaven". O_o</p>