I see a massage therapist every other month as preventative maintenance. I was talking about this to a friend of mine and we exchanged stories about our current massage therapists. Then, I recalled an experience I had a few years ago.
My health insurance sent an announcement that certain providers were offering massage therapy at a discounted rate. I found one that was in a neighboring town and called to schedule an appointment. The guy told me that he was one of the only people in the tri-state area that specialized in ashiatsu massage. He asked if I had ever heard of it and I told him that I had.
It was snowing on the morning of my appointment. I arrived and found an empty parking lot with an unshoveled walk. I called the massage therapist’s cell phone. He answered and asked if I could hold on for a minute because he was on the other line. Really? Then, he hung up on me. He called back a few minutes later, saying that he wasn’t sure if I was going to cancel or if he was going to cancel because of the weather, but now that I had called, he was on his way.
After waiting for half an hour, he pulled into the parking lot and informed me that he forgot his keys. He then proceeded to break his office window, climbed through and let me in the front door.
I filled out some paperwork and was called back into the room with the table.
The massage started off fine, but then I noticed that his voice was getting further away. Shortly thereafter I realized that this was because he was massaging me with his feet. As if that wasn’t weird enough, he began calling out the muscle group he was working on in almost porn-like fashion, “Now I’m on your glute aw, yeah, you feel that? We’re getting deep in there now.” Then, he proceeded to tell me his life story, particularly his recovery from addiction to painkillers.
Needless to say, I never went back to see him again and, I learned an important lesson about the difference one letter (Ashiatsu vs. Shiatsu) can make.
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