I had a bad experience earlier today with one of the commercial massage chairs at the mall. My wife, Josie, sentenced me to one for half an hour while she was getting a manicure and pedicure at a nail salon.
To be honest, Josie had no idea I would hate it so much. Neither of us had ever sat in one before. Nevertheless, I made sure she knew exactly how I felt about it after it finally released me.
Before I tell you why, I’ll tell you how I came to be in such a position. This morning, the local power company decided to cut power on our street at exactly 8:15 am. I don’t buy the “scheduled interruption” notice on Facebook because I check for their notices every day and this afternoon was the first time I saw this one.
Not knowing when the power was going to be turned back on, we (me and my immediate family) decided to spend the day at the mall. Life sucks without air conditioning. We had a light lunch at a place called “Ben’s Kitchen”. After that, Josie and I followed Cathy (our daughter-in-law) from floor to floor. We ended up near by those massage chairs.
Josie told me they (her and Cathy) hadn’t planned the trip to salon, but I think it was their scheme all along. Josie paid 100 pesos for 30 minutes and they just left me there. After I was in position, and it was a bit snug, the chair clamped down on me and I knew I had no choice but to suffer for the next half hour.
At least the one that took me prisoner was painful. I could feel the balls rotating under my feet and the pressure of the balls on my back. The real pain came when they started pushing down on my lower spine area, the lumbar region.
I really think no one should have to endure what I endured for more than five minutes. By the time the 30 minutes was up, I was almost numb from my neck to my waist on my back.
I’m not making any of this up. I actually tried to get out of that chair long before my time was up. I don’t know what was going on but I couldn’t do anything. I told our driver (another relative) about all of this and everyone inside the vehicle started cracking up – except for me.
I will never voluntarily sit in one of those massage chairs again for as long as I live.