Massage Chairs Helped Me Get The Woman of My Dreams
Massage chairs, to a lot of people, are nothing more than an interesting novelty. For me, massage chairs are an important part of my marriage story. It all started almost five years ago, when I was dating my college sweetheart Jenny. Jenny's dad Bill was a big jerk. Basically, I didn't like him and he didn't like me. He was an old military man, and my beard and sandals were not his idea of good fashion sense. The first time we met, he said "what are you, some kinda hippie?" This was not really the reaction I was hoping for, considering that I had proposed to his daughter a few days earlier. At that point, I had just started researching massage chairs. I do a lot of rock climbing, and massage chairs are an excellent complement to any training program. I knew that Jenny's dad had back pain, so I started to hatch a plan. I was going to defeat my father in law with the power of massage chairs.
Massage chair shopping is not easy. There are a lot of choices, but after about three weeks of hunting around greater Pennsylvania, I finally found the right chair, the PHP-2026 massage chair from Premier massage chairs. It was sweet. Fully automatic, strong as an ox and silky smooth, like buttah. Not 'butter' mind you, but 'buttah'. Anyway, I ordered it online, because there were no stores near me in Pennsylvania, and it finally came one day before my father in law was due to arrive for a visit. This was going to be the big visit, the one where I would ask for Jenny's hand, and I wanted the moment to be perfect. That's why I bought a bottle of very expensive 60 year old whisky, (he loves whisky), and I put on the Pennsylvania State game. I also got some Smokehouse Almonds, because apparently he loves those too. My plan was to get Bill a little loose with the aged whisky, lower his defenses with the almonds, and then put him in my massage chair for the kill.
Massage chair therapy has a tendency to make one sleepy, and I had every intention of capitalizing off of that. When he arrived, I had some whisky poured for him, and the massage chair was lying in wait. He and Jenny chatted for awhile, and I made myself busy enough to avoid any questioning from him. He didn't really understand the whole "freelance reporter" thing. He would always ask, "but what's your job?" It's really not that complicated, but as far as he's concerned, unless you have an office building, you're unemployed. Anyway, I had been enjoying my massage chair all day, and a bit of the whisky too. As the football game was winding down, Penn State in the lead of course, I finally worked up the courage to invite him to sit in the massage chair. He accepted, and flopped down in the chair. He was a few whiskies deep now, and had become much friendlier as a result. He even complimented me on the massage chair. Then he just sat in silence as the automatic programs did their thing. As his breathing started to slow, just as he was about to drift off to sleep, I saw my chance. I said, "so Bill, mind if I marry your daughter?" He mumbled a marginally coherent 'yes', and the rest is history.