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 Wal*Mart.  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 SOB's and  need to relax a bit! Anyhoo...I'm waiting my turn watching them Massage therapists rub down the people before me.  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. Yeah, not so much. 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.