It Is I, Your Pedicure Massage Chair, And You Really Want to Push My Mysterious Buttons, Baby

Summary

The website content humorously personifies a pedicure massage chair narrating a user's experience as it guides them through the chair's various settings during a salon visit.

Abstract

The article is a playful narrative from the perspective of a pedicure massage chair, which is described as a luxurious and somewhat mysterious addition to a nail salon experience. It invites the reader to indulge in the chair's features, emphasizing relaxation and the exploration of its many buttons with intriguing labels like "Kneading," "Width," "Rolling," and "Slapping." The chair teases the reader about the uncertainties of what each button truly does, while also providing a sensual and humorous account of the pedicure process, including the selection of nail polish and the endurance of a foot scrub. The chair reassures the reader of the pleasurable experience it offers and looks forward to their next visit.

Opinions

The massage chair presents itself as an essential companion to the pedicure experience, enhancing relaxation and providing a pleasurable distraction.
Budgeting for the standard pedicure option is portrayed as an attractive quality.
The chair's buttons are described with a mix of allure and ambiguity, suggesting that their functions are not entirely clear despite their labels.
The chair teases about the potential embarrassment of pressing its buttons in public, yet encourages the reader to embrace the experience.
The article humorously reflects on the reader's internal dialogue, particularly their second-guessing of the chosen nail polish color and the interpretation of the chair's button functions.
The chair acknowledges the reader's physical reactions to the massage and foot care processes, offering a light-hearted take on the sometimes ticklish or uncomfortable aspects of a pedicure.
The chair expresses a playful anticipation for the reader's next visit, suggesting a lasting relationship between the user and the chair.

I’m here to help you and your beautiful self relax even more during your appointment

Welcome to my nail salon, gorgeous. I’m your sexy, black, leather massage chair, and I’m here for you, baby. I’m going to help you and your beautiful self relax even more during your appointment. So sit back, let out a long sensual breath, and get ready to push my many mystery buttons for an additionally pleasurable experience. Oh yeah.

When your pedicurist asks you what type of pedicure you desire, you’ll say that you only want the standard, aka cheapest, option. Budgeting is attractive, honey. She’ll then ask you to put those pretty feet of yours in that warm, steaming, bubbly water. Mmm. That feels nice. Now first things first, gorgeous; it’s time to turn me on.

Push my red “on” button to get me moving. I’ll slide up and down your lower back very slowly. Now, you’ll seductively ponder which of my settings to choose, mainly because you can’t really know what each of them does, even with my seemingly descriptive words written on each one of my peculiar buttons.

To make your selection, first, you’ll arbitrarily rub up on my button that says “Kneading.” Exhale as you think, “This is kind of nice.” Ponder whether the other patrons in the salon think you’re attempting to appealingly push out that stunning chest of yours… over, and over, and over again. Then, wonder to yourself, “No. They won’t think that. They’ll know I’m being massaged by this chair. Right?”

Now, your pedicurist will confirm the nail polish color you spent a solid ten minutes choosing earlier. Just say yes, darling. I know you’ll silently question your choice, though. You’re so hot when you overthink things. Maybe you should have chosen “It’s a Boy!” blue instead of “Alaskan Glacier Ice” blue? While you continue questioning your polish for the next few minutes, just choose another one of my buttons to push, you sexy devil, you.

Thrust your finger toward my button that says “Width.” Width of what, you ask? Baby, I don’t even know that. But I will tell you that when you drive my arrows one way, it makes my hardened steel rods protrude out through my leather fabric, and dig deeply in to your back, very deeply, giving you a wider pushy-push, closer to that curvaceous spine of yours. And yet, when you jostle my arrows the other direction, it will make my pushy-pushers spread and separate, just a tad closer to your marvelous rib cage. Oh yeah, baby, let out that sigh.

Now, it’s about that time. Your pedicurist is about to use that Parmesan cheese grater on your callused feet. I know, honey, you work so hard. Trust me: it only adds to your appeal, baby. Just try your best not to do that cute little laugh of yours, or scrunch your sweet toe-toes up too much, or accidentally kick your pedicurist in the face with that stunning foot. Relax and try to distract yourself by any means possible. And I know that watching the local news reporter talking about the recent shooting in your neighboring town isn’t cutting it. Look away from the TV, you tease, you. Time to rub against another one of my buttons.

Tap on my button that says “Rolling.” While you do so, baby, just breathe through those scrapey-scrapes and tickley-ticks.

See, baby? We got through it together, rolling, just me and you.

Time to work another one of my buttons, sweetie. How about “Slapping”? Reread my button and think: “Slapping? Really? That can’t be right?” But blush those rosy cheeks of yours, and push it anyways, honey. Do it.

And think:

“Ouch — ouch — ouch — abort mission, abort mission QUICK ummm PUSH KNEADING AGAIN.” And then? Let out that sigh, baby. Yes, this one feels safe. Safe and pleasurable.

You’ll decide to stick with my sensual kneading technique until those tantalizing toenails of yours are painted. Then it will be time to leave me and go visit my friend, the nail-drying fan. Your sultry feet are going to look marvelous in your sandals.

Until next time, hopefully in about six weeks or so, I will cherish every moment that your alluring backside was with me today, gorgeous.

Your toes are going to look beautiful, just like you, baby.

Kerry Webster Reynolds is a Massachusetts Creative Writing teacher who writes her own nonsense sometimes, occasionally demonstrating proficiency. Words: Points in Case, The Belladonna, Slackjaw, etc. Follow her! @KWebbyRey.