Yelp reviews that really marsh my ‘mellow’.


Now on to the massage. It was definitely “meh”.  I had slept wrong the night before and the entire right side of my body was tied in knots.  Even though my massage therapist had asked me if there were any areas of particular focus, there wasn’t much more focus on that area than any other parts of my body.  In addition, the pressure wasn’t great even though I asked her to be firmer and at some points, I question whether or not she was even around the right muscle group.  Very nice, just not a very effective massage.  I left feeling just as “tight” as when I arrived.  My guess is that she’s a newbie, although my spa companion had a similar underwhelming experience.

Wow.  I didn’t even have to read past the pretentious, obnoxious spelling of your name (Sandee with 2 e’s) before wanting to fuck you in the ass with your own face.

Was the entire right side of your body literally ‘tied in knots’?  I’m not a medical professional but that sounds like some serious shit. Were they more like sailor’s knots or (finger’s crossed) the kind used to hang yourself with, because right now those are the only ones I’m picturing.

I am also hearing that you are questioning whether the TRAINED PROFESSIONAL was even around the right muscle group? You mean the muscle group that caused the knot tying? Maybe I missed that day in massage school, but according to your shitty, vague description of what you needed that day I couldn’t imagine anyone understanding what in bloody hell that could possibly mean.

And with your tremendous experience in the massage therapy industry you’ve decided she was a ‘newbie’?  I only wish (with one of my 3 genie wishes) that you could say that to my face before I immersed your head in a bucket of dirty mop water containing all the pee extracted from the floors around the men’s urinal. Then I could explain in detailed detail what an ignorant dick bitch you are.

Double e.  Gross.
Get a ‘y’ and don’t come back ’til you do.


Careful with that thing – you’re gonna poke someone’s eye out/Client stories


someone peed in the spa sauna today.

they did.

i don’t know why.

i want to be more surprised because that would mean it was rare and unusual behavior but when i worked at Barnes & Noble, a guy peed on the floor in the Antiques & Collectibles section.

please stop it or you’re gonna leave me no choice but to take them away from you.

Yelp reviews that really marsh my ‘mellow’.


This place is ok.  Not the best, and not the worst.
I got the Swedish massage for $60, and I was able to use a $50 gift certificate from Spa Finder (they don’t accept those in their Chelsea location, fyi).  The hole for the face was not very comfortable; their piece of paper they put on top kept sticking to my face.  The massage wasn’t very ahhh soothing, maybe it was too light because I passed out for about half my massage.
Did it work out the kinks in my back?  Nope.

Let me do a little math here. In using your Spa Finder gift certificate, you ended up spending a whopping tenfuckingdollars on a one hour massage and feel entitled to whine about the face hole in the table?
(slams hand on buzzer)
Sorry Lili. Wrong answer.

Ten dollars.
A pack of cigarettes cost thirteen.  I’m sure if they were cheaper, you’d choose cancer over that 60 minute massage to save a few bucks.

And just to clarify your fucked up understanding of why you passed out for about half your massage:
(besides the fact that you were probably up all night snorting coke from one of those Hello Kitty cocaine straws)
The massage was relaxing and your body needed the rest.
Someone had both the skill and the compassion to take away the stress from your pathetic little life for even an elfin stretch.
You didn’t deserve it.

I don’t claim to know everything but I can guarantee this with all I am; you have absolutely no fucking clue what a ‘kink’ is.
And I’m not gonna tell you.
Nonny nonny poo poo.


Not sure why I went to Monster to browse for jobs. I have a feeling it was as superficial a reason as I just liked the logo.

Although it’s not difficult to understand where they were coming from, the lazy stupidity displayed here is exhausting.

I entered Spa Manager in the job position bar and signed up to receive emails when any new jobs that matched my search became available.
So far, the following two jobs were emailed to me:

Chef Supervisor Abernethy Laurels – NC-Newton-28658 – Posted: 7/12/2013
Spanish Instructor Catawba Valley Community College – NC-Hickory-28602 – Posted: 7/10/2013

I cook meatballs sometimes. I’m not sure that would qualify me for the first job. Although, who knows? Maybe I’m being too pessimistic and self-depricating. Does making myself coffee count? And after re-examining the job title, I realized that it’s a supervisory position. So I probably don’t need to have any cooking skills at all! It seems all they are looking for is someone to tell other chefs what to do. I don’t want to brag but I believe I can do that blindfolded.

At least Spanish Instructor contains the letters S P A in it although, honestly, I’d be more proficient (‘good’, in case any massage therapists are reading) at the bully chef thing.
I know how to say shoe and water in Spanish and sometimes I don’t throw up when it’s yammered next to me on a bus or subway car but again (and this may be the lack of self-confidence talking), I’m not sure this would be the best fit for me. And as if I would work at a Community College. Pfffffff! (I spelled this phonetically after making this sound out loud and this is definitely the correct spelling).

You may think this sloppy example of the ineffectiveness of this on-line service would be enough to deter me from wishing to receive future postings, but I’m gonna stick with it purely for the comedic value.
And in case I take up Spanish – at a frillion years old.

Stranger things have happened.

Privates (not to be confused with penises)


Private clients are people who are financially successful enough (as well as lazy as all shit) to employ a massage therapist to come to their home for a session. I plan to become one some day.

The main difference between myself and the private clients I have both heard about and experienced is that I have no intention of being a cheap fuck.  None. When I am fortunate enough to be able to afford a personal massage therapist to come to my home, I will be grateful and generous and buy them candy (the good kind, not a Whitman’s Sampler or anything they sell in CVS).

In New York City you can expect to pay between $80 (which, for a gifted therapist, falls just short of robbery) to $225 (for the handful of greedy, egotistical therapists).

Until that time I will frequent massage venues that I can afford, or lap up the generosity of my exceptional-handed partner.  ‘Cause when you attempt to bargain for a cheaper price for the convenience and luxury of getting a massage in your god damn home, face it – you are now in the ‘I’m a gigantic ass’ category.

Question.  Do you bargain with your doctor or do you go to a health care provider that you can afford?

Yelp reviews that marsh my ‘mellow’.


He rubbed me down for about 5 minutes through the towel which was bizarre, but I guess he was just warming up bc then he rolled back the blanket and got to work. I would have been happy staying on my stomach throughout the session but he turned me over and worked on my arms a bit, which was an odd choice given I told him I’d dislocated my shoulders, so he wasn’t terribly effective there, and the face up is always awkward with the lights in your eye and basically playing dead so you don’t have to make eye contact or reveal any expression.

Rubbing you down for 5 minutes through the towel is not bizarre at all.
Rubbing you down through the towel with an elephant tusk WOULD be bizarre.

Here is what I would consider to be some simple, commonsensical advice:
If you have dislocated your shoulders, stay home until they have healed and you don’t have to put the therapist in the ridiculously uncomfortable position of being afraid to, I don’t know, cause you pain? Undermine a proper healing regimen? Cause further injury?  And how exactly did you dislocate both shoulders?

And trust me, face-up is always awkward for we therapists too. Especially if the lights are in your ‘eye’ (meaning you only have one and are possibly a cyclops).
Next time try being dead instead of just playing.  That would work better for all of us, both in the magical kingdom and here in the real world.