Who wants a body massage?
Ian Benson ’14 reviews a Wellness Center massage
Ian Benson
Features Editor
For the stressed, the weary, the tired and sickly huddled masses, I have a solution to offer: the massages at the Longbrake Student Wellness Center. I had never had a massage before in my life and thus was skeptical at the prospect of reviewing them but now I understand; now I see.
The massages are offered by appointment on Tuesdays and Thursdays and require a call to the Wellness Center in order to schedule them. That’s one of the first instances where it just seems weird, calling in to schedule a massage where everyone else is calling because they have caught what disease their whole dorm has. There are people there that cannot possibly make it to class that day and are in dire need of medication.
That feeling strikes again when you arrive at the Wellness Center and go up to the person behind the front desk and explain how you’re there for a massage. Then, as you do so, someone limps up from their chair as their name is called while another individual coughs like they caught the black lung. You take a seat and notice how everything just feels slightly out of place, and that maybe you really should not be there, though that might just be a part of a tendency to overthink social situations.
All of these worries and anxieties and fears of social situations dissipated shortly after my name was called for the massage. I was led to a back room that had dimmed lights, soft music and a comfortable chair, being only scented candles away from a clichéd romantic comedy date. Thus, I determined it was the perfect environment to have a massage.
As I mentioned earlier, it was my first massage and thus I had no idea what I was in for. I opted for the massage to focus on my back and neck because that matched the classic massage idea I have in my head. My back and my neck thank me for that decision. After undressing to a comfortable state and figuring out how I was supposed to lie down on the table, the massage began.
It started gently but progressively got rougher until I determined that the hands running down my back could karate chop concrete and not be bruised. At times it was like raindrops gently on my neck before it gave way to two hands creating a steam roller that methodically worked their way down my back, only to break apart and start it all again like a dance that would never to end.
I laid there in silence for the half hour the massage entailed, listening to the soft music that softly played and the sound of hands running along my body. Conversation was a distant care, partially because all I could think to say was “Oh” and mostly because it was wholly unnecessary. Instead, I let my mind attempt to relax and just go with the flow as my shoulders felt like “The Dance of the Reed Flutes” was being gently performed on them.
The half an hour ended and the masseuse whispered in my ear “Thank you. Take as much time as you want getting up. I’ll be outside.” All I managed was a muffled, “No, thank you,” before lying there for a few minutes attempting to just melt into the bed so I would never have to move. After realizing the futility of my efforts, I got up and got dressed and paid the bill for the massage, $16 (cash or check only) for the half an hour, and left, feeling as though all cares were petty and grinning from ear to ear, highly recommending an appointment to anyone and everyone.