Vulcan Death Grip Massage

Today, in compensation for working 90+ hours over six days last week, the firm hired a masseuse to give Eric (and colleagues) massages today... for 20 minutes each.

I was talking with the staff who sets these types of things up for us (person "A") and another high-ranking guy on the case (person "B").
A: So it's all set up.
B: It had better be a chick.
A: Fills in more of the details.
B: Seriously, it had better not be a dude.
A: Last bit of details.
B: I'm not joking around here. If it's a guy I will track you down where you live and murder you.
A: I talked to a lady on the phone so it should be okay.
B: ... (silence)

Later that day, I got a call from A: The masseuse is here. I'll show him to the room.
(him???)

Five minutes later "Lars" was ready to begin working on us. When my turn came around, I sat on the massage chair. "Any areas in particular you'd like me to focus on," he asked. My reply, "I guess my neck and shoulders." Last words I heard before he began "Okay. Let me know if it's too strong."

Everything was going swimmingly until 5 minutes in when the neck portion of the massage began. It was like Thai massage, but for my neck. Vulcan death grip to the left; Vulcan death grip 1 inch higher to the left; repeat; repeat; repeat. My thought process: (ouch!) Can't chicken (ouch) out, have to (ouch) hang tough (ouch). Just hang (ouch) tough .

After 20 minutes, I was relaxed and my mind was in a state of nirvana. It was hard to go back to work after really, fully relaxing.