Hon Man Chinese Herb Center
Bayard & Mott
212-227-1883
I am always willing to indulge a little cultural relativism and accept that the standards by which I judge a midtown spa might not really fit a place in Chinatown. However, there are some absolutes that always apply. Hon Man pretty much fails on all of them. The place has one thing going for it, and it has nothing to do with massages.
Tried this place very recently and it was a gritty experience all around - I have read other reviews referring to it as surreal, which is about right. I'm absolutely not a germophobe, and I don't notice minor things like dust in the corners. I also don't mistake a place that's old and run down for "dirty". This place is dirty. These are also the smallest massage stalls I have ever seen, with curtains for separation - you can hear absolutely every whisper in the adjoining stalls.
If there's a shower, I recommend avoiding it in the strongest possible terms.
It also seems like they may be getting an unexpected uptick in business, because it seemed to me they had enough men in and out of there over the course of 30 minutes to justify installing a turnstile.
As for the "massage," I have never before asked a provider to just stop the massage and move on to the finish, but that's what I did here. After paying for an hour, I realized almost immediately that an hour would be pointless if not possibly damaging to my spine. Hurried, inexpert fumbling followed by painful prodding. Another guy might complain that they were "shorted" on time here. I was counting my blessings.
Wonder what's in those containers of herbs up front. If the massage is any indication of the care and precision taken here, I'm sure someone is coughing up blood right now having ingested one of their herbal remedies.
Provider - asked her the name twice and just couldn't understand - was something like "Nasha" or "Natasha" or "Nauseous". Thick, late 30ish woman with Malaysian-looking features. Negotiated the tip at the flip, accommodated as promised. Not an unpleasant person, but absolutely everything was rushed...and to be honest, I really didn't mind getting out of there fast. On the plus side, nice big nipples, gives enthusiastic head and, I don't know, might actually have enjoyed herself a little, I'm not sure.
Anyway, I was done about 20 minutes after I walked in the door, and while the conclusion was sufficient to redeem the experience a little bit, generally speaking this was pretty bottom of the barrel even by Chinatown criteria.
On the way out, she says "Next time I do more massage." "Sure, sounds great" I say, flashing a big smile, wondering to myself what sort of natural disaster would have to occur to obliterate the entire island of Manhattan with the exception of the block where Hon Man is situated...because that's pretty much what it would take for me to go back there for "more massage."