When you envision a nice soothing massage, what comes to mind?
Lit candles? Quiet sleepytime music? The subtle aroma of exotic herbs and oils?
How about ham hocks, deer noggins, and slabs of cow?
My wife and I were driving through the winding country roads of New York when we stumbled across this gem of a home-based business. The visions it conjured up were so priceless that I begged my wife to take me back there with camera in hand.
It’s run out of a quaint enough home in the hills of upstate New York, and while I’m sure they are super nice people, it just wouldn’t be my destination of choice for a massage. Unless, of course, I was sore from hours of tracking and dragging deer through the brush. Perhaps then I’d want to kick back and enjoy a little rub down as my deer is processed into little bundles of venison.
Part of me wanted to schedule an appointment purely for the potential comedic value but we were heading out of town too soon to make that happen. But you can bet I’ll show up next time we’re visiting my wife’s parents.
Before deer-processing massage therapists from across the country have a cow (no pun intended) know that I’m allowed to be stereotypical. We lived in that area for years and years, so I can pretty much tell you with complete accuracy how it would all go down.
As I walked through the front door I’d be greeted by the soft melodic sounds of banjos and distant band saws. I’d be given a mug of Old Milwaukee along with an old copy of Field & Stream to read while I waited.
After a quick bathroom break through the door marked “Cowpokes”, I’d be led into the massage parlor where I’d be asked to lay atop butcher paper. Glassy-eyed deer heads would stare at me from above and steaks-in-waiting would be dangling on meat hooks just outside the window.
All this considered, I’m sure the rubdown would be amazing, and that might make the nightmare-inducing ambiance worth it. After all, these people are experts in tenderizing meat, and that’s just what this knot in my back needs.