I take no pleasure in writing this review, but I feel it is my civic duty to warn future customers…read moreabout what can only be described as the massage from hell. Consider this your public service announcement: enter at your own risk.
I booked a 60-minute full-body massage at this small spa, hoping for a relaxing escape. Instead, what I received was a chaotic, oil-drenched attack on my body that I may never fully recover from. Let's start with the first warning sign: as I entered the room, I spotted a floss pick just chilling on the couch (yes, you read that right). It was as if the universe was telling me, "Run, don't walk." I stayed. Foolish me.
The woman who checked me in, who I will refer to as "the attacker," led me to the room and told me to get ready. I should've known things were about to go sideways when she came back in and asked if I had booked 60 or 90 minutes. Why didn't she know? Was she just winging it? Oh, she was. Spoiler alert: that was the least bizarre part of the entire experience.
She covered me with a towel -- not the usual drape, mind you, but laid it over me vertically like she was tucking in a small burrito (I am a person, not a taquito, thank you very much). Then, for reasons I still cannot comprehend, she began "massaging" me through the towel. For ten long minutes. I began to wonder if maybe she thought I had a layer of dirt she didn't want to touch.
But then came the oil. Oh, the oil. Not a normal amount -- no, she practically baptized me in it. I was now a human slip-and-slide. She started with these fast, frantic movements that I can only describe as if she were trying to roll out pizza dough -- except that dough was me. Imagine a rolling pin, but instead of wood, it's her forearms, and instead of dough, it's your back... and she's using the speed of a Formula 1 pit crew. I was terrified she was going to keep going until I was a flat, thin disc of a human.
It got worse.
At one point, without any warning, she yanked down my underwear. I've had plenty of massages in my life, and never once has someone felt the need to roll down my undies. My butt was out. Exposed. Like it was some kind of casual Tuesday event.
The technique (if we can call it that) was just as aggressive as before. She switched to what I assume was her version of "working out knots," but it felt more like she was trying to put out a small fire on my back. She was speed-rubbing as though she had double-parked outside and needed to finish before she got towed.
I thought maybe, just maybe, she'd chill out when she got to my arms and legs. Reader, she did not. The same crazed up-and-down rubbing, dousing me in even more oil like I was some kind of Thanksgiving turkey. And then, in a completely nonsensical move, she grabbed my arm and just started shaking it. Like a maraca. What? Why? Was she summoning spirits?
The leg portion followed the same nightmarish pattern: no draping, no care. Just speed-shaking my legs around like she was trying to reset my bones. At one point, she bent my leg at a 90-degree angle and wiggled it like she was testing a car jack. The only saving grace in this circus? The hot stones she left on my back. Because at least they were inanimate and knew what they were doing.
But the grand finale? The towel rubdown. Remember how she bathed me in oil? Well, she now scrubbed it off with the force of someone grating cheese. My skin felt like it was melting. I went from an oily human slip-and-slide to a block of cheese at an Italian restaurant, and I was ready to scream, "Check, please!"
Oh, and just when I thought I'd suffered enough, she forgot entirely about my quads. Not that I wanted her to touch them after what I'd been through, but the fact that she skipped a whole part of my body just left me wondering what kind of fever dream this entire massage was.
Let's not forget the side details: her hair brushing against me (which, let's be honest, added a horror-movie element), her disappearing from the room twice (for mysterious reasons), and the total lack of music or relaxing scents. It was just me, the bright lights, and the distant sound of muffled hallway music, which did nothing to drown out my internal screams.
Should I have said something? Probably. Will I ever return? Absolutely not. Do I recommend this place? Only if you're looking for a story to laugh about with your friends -- because this wasn't a massage; it was a full-blown assault.
Save your body, your dignity, and your money. Go elsewhere.
