Massage chair has become new vice

By Deana Nall
Baytown Sun

Published June 15, 2005

Rice pudding. Loud rock music in the car. Double Chocolate Chip Frappuccinos from Starbucks.
These are a few of my vices. I'm not ashamed of them. Everybody needs something to help them get down life's bumpier roads. For a friend of mine, it's "People" magazine. I have another friend who goes to Starbucks almost every day. For my dad, it was Little Debbie cakes -- until his doctor made him give them up.
My vices could be worse. I don't drink or smoke. Other than the Vicodin I enjoyed immensely after giving birth, I don't do any mind-altering drugs. But occasionally I sit in front of "Desperate Housewives" and down a tub of rice pudding, the pinnacle of comfort food. So sue me.
And I'm quite pleased to announce this week that I have found another vice. It's one I highly recommend.
First, find a mall that has a "Sharper Image" store. Go sit in one of their massage chairs. Stay there all day. Or until they run you out.
I have personally fallen in love with the "Stretching Human Touch Robotic Leather Massage Recliner" model. It costs $2,000. It comes in black and "mocha." I love this chair because it knows what I like. You know those wimpy kind of backrubs? Those aren't for me. I prefer the kind that leave bruises.
Trying out the different settings on the recliner last Friday, I pushed a button that said "Percussion." It felt like an angry mob with sledgehammers was inside the chair. I felt bruises forming. Maybe even welts. It was great. I wondered how the people who work at "The Sharper Image" stay out of the chairs long enough to get any work done.
"Wow, I could give up my chiropractor," said the guy in the chair next to me. I could tell by his voice that he was also in "Percussion" mode.
My bruises were coming along nicely. I lay there in a state of electronically-induced bliss, wondering if it's legal in Texas to marry a chair. Especially if you're already married to a person.
"Actually, if I bought one of these," he went on. "I could give up my chiropractor AND my girlfriend."
"Yes, you could," I said, still too relaxed to open my eyes. "The chair would never send you a bill or whine about stuff. And you'd save a lot more than $2,000."
"Hey, you're right!" he said. I glanced over at the guy and saw that he had a look of epiphany on his face. That bothered me. I didn't really mean to talk him into ending two of his most significant relationships. And I didn't know if his soon-to-be former girlfriend was going to show up at any moment. Or the chiropractor. You never know.
I switched off my robotic recliner.
"I better be going, " I said. "Enjoy your chair."
I left him to ponder the prospect of replacing two important people in his life with a piece of furniture the color of coffee.
Mocha coffee. With cinnamon. That reminded me. It was time to head to Starbucks.


Deana Nall's column appears every Wednesday. Her email address is cldjnall@verizon.net.