Fixin' Leaks and Leeks

“Put your finger in here” is not something you want anyone to say when you sit in a massage chair, but Nate took one for the team.

There’s a fitness store next to the Total Wine shop at a strip mall nearby, which the Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks Team likes to call the Total Wine and Fitness Center. The plan was to stop by the fitness store and get Nate some kind of wraps or straps for weight-lifting, then hit the wine store, but Nate ended up trapped in a massage chair.

A very friendly and knowledgeable salesman met us at the door, which is where a lot of massage chairs were stationed. They looked like harmless, comfy, cozy pods, but I remembered the “Sharper Image” days of the malls in the ‘80s and ‘90s and knew that Nate was about to get deflowered by a “therapeutic device.” And all I could do was watch.

Nate selected a curvy beige little number and snuggled right in. Then, he dictated to the salesman what kind of massage he wanted from the chair, and the salesman tried really hard to match Nate’s specifications with the controls that were programmed into the machine.

Nate: You know that space just below the shoulder blade, where there’s a curve? (Nate holds his hands out in a cup shape and points at the curved part of his hand.) There are bumps there—if you can picture it.

(The salesman nods like he knows what Nate is talking about. I do the same.)

Nate: I want to target just that area. Really get into those knots.

Salesman: Okay. What kind of pressure do you want?

Nate: Probably a lot.

(The salesman taps some commands into the machine and explains that the pod is mapping Nate’s body.)

Nate: Ahhh! What is this? It’s grabbing my feet!

Salesman: Yes. It locks your feet into place, and now you should feel the roller on the inside of your legs.

Nate: Ow! Eeee! What the? But whyyyy? I wanted my shoulder blades massaged!

Salesman: It’ll get there. Just takes a while.

So as the salesman looked on, Nate made faces. That’s when he introduced Nate to another machine—the one with the “stick your finger in here” instructions. Apparently, this massage chair takes the pulse of the person sitting in it, and if it detects an acceleration in the heart rate, it locks the person in and calls 911—or something like that.

Once Nate was in the new chair, the procedure started all over again. It was like the chairs could all read each other’s minds: Start with the feet and systematically destroy. Crush the brains last.

It took approximately eight or ten minutes for the roller to move from Nate’s feet up to his shoulder blades. Meanwhile, the salesman tried to convince me to try one out.

Me: Oh, no. I’m recovering from injuries.

Salesman: Where?

Me: Just all in my legs, Achilles tendon, back—possibly the spleen.

Salesman: Me, too—this one’s perfect!

Me: No. Really. No. I’ll be fine.

Salesman: This model here is…

Me: No!

But can you get injured from a massage chair? The look on Nate’s face told me you could. So, I researched it and found that the Texas Tech Health Sciences Center has a release form for using massage chairs on their property. Risks can include, but are not limited to:

• Superficial bruising
• Short-term muscle soreness
• The exacerbation of an unknown injury

To be fair, I’m pretty sure regular massages probably carry these risks as well, but I also didn’t want to add electric shock and sudden robot uprisings to the list.

Luckily, another couple came in to look at treadmills and the salesman had to help them, so I took over the controls and awkwardly extricated Nate from a massage chair that cost anywhere from $14,000-$16,000. That would be the real damage, I guess—if we had bought one of those and ended up stuck in it with 911 dialed on repeat.

When the salesman wasn’t looking, we ran like heck to the wine store, where the staff there gave us shots of whiskey as we pre-gamed for St. Patrick’s Day. We bought all kinds of stuff there.

So, there’s a word to the wise, if you’re listening, Massage Chair Pods from Planet Torture: At least buy the human Earthling a drink first before rolling your pronged tentacles all over their body.

Your Turn: Have you ever sat in a massage chair? Are you okay?