It's going to end soon and then she'll start rubbing and kneading like all the other girls

So I got a free chair massage today at my local Walmart. 

Don't ask me WHY they were rubbing down everyone in town for free...I heard FREE MASSAGE and I forgot everything I was supposed to get. 

Sure, they could have been college students working on some clinical time...Or perhaps they were lonely and wanted to make friends.  Maybe, just maybe, they realized what I've known for a long time...People in my town are knotted up sonsofbitches's that need to relax a bit!

Anyhoo...I'm waiting my turn watching the Massage therapists rub down the people before me and I'm looking at them like (I would imagine) "FAT BASTARD" (from Austin Powers) would look at Vern Troyer covered in chocolate cake batter.  I'm feeling better already-just in anticipation of my massage.  It looked wonderful, relaxing and just plain awesome.

Yeahhhhhhhhhhhh, notsomuch.

My lady beat the CRAP out of me!  Holy hell!  Friggin' OW!  She beat me like she was trying to tenderize a pot roast!  Nothing felt better than when she STOPPED touching me!

Now, you're probably asking yourself "Why didn't you stop her?"

 

Yeah, that's a good question-you know, what with hindsight being 20/20 (or some crap like that)…

I didn't stop her, because I kept thinking "It's going to end soon and then she'll start rubbing and kneading like all the other girls."

But no.  She beat me up, gave me the international sign for "your massage is done"  (you know, the THREE back pats that you give someone when you've gotten tired of rubbing and now you're finished) and sent me on my way with a tear in my eye and a weird mark on my face from the massage chair.

So now its 7 hours later and I'm propped up on my sofa, with pillows and a heating pad.  Pain pills are not too far behind.

In other news...I'm out of wine.