I’ve been hesitant to do so in the past: you’ll see the booths at health fairs, conventions, I even saw one at a flea market once (it looked… shady), and every time I’ve thought, “Man, that would probably feel great.” Yet, I abstained.
My reasoning is very simple:
1. Dude’s don’t get massages (curse you, TV, for putting that thought in my head!), and
2. I’d feel terrible for inflicting my person on some poor masseuse. For those of you who don’t know what I look like, here’s a good example:
Well, today was our Christmas party at work, and after the gifts were doled out (in something called a “Dirty Santa”, which sounds like a euphemism for mixing sex with gingerbread and candy canes or whatever) a lady masseuse rolled up her chair and set it up in the conference room.
Again, I was hesitant.
But you know what? My boss talked me in to it, and it was amazing.
Go. Get a massage.
It kind of makes me wonder what other stuff TV has lied to me about. I’m contemplating a spa day, with the masks and saunas and cucumber-eye-covers.