My usual masseuse was sick today, so they offered me a different one. I didn't know any of them, so I said, "Anyone, it doesn't matter to me."
So I got Andre.
Andre was a nice young man, Russian, with a very thick accent. Andre also seems to have trained as a masseur at his local gym, or maybe his local prison.
The massage was very vigorous, he reached muscles I didn't even know I had.
I was already exquisitely sore from several hours of weeding on Saturday, which I did after my first yoga class in two weeks.
The combo of yoga and gardening left me stiff and sore. The massage loosened me up, but there were a couple of moments when I nearly screamed. I kid you not, this guy had hands of steel and was not afraid to apply them to my body with all his strength. I got tickled a couple of times, wondering what would happen if I started shrieking, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh, you are killing meeeeeee!"