Frequently Wrong, Rarely in Doubt

I have seen the future. And it has hydraulic arms. I got my first AI robot massage this last weekend, and I learned that the human touch is vastly overrated. Why would I ever let a mortal person with feelings and opinions rub my back when I could have a sentient car wash with perfect pressure? 

No People, No Problem

Here’s the thing about regular massages: they involve people. People who need to talk to you about pressure preferences, people who make you disrobe under fluorescent lights, people who sometimes breathe too loudly while standing near your head. Enter: robot. No chit-chat, no pressure to seem friendly but relaxed. No anxiety about asking for more or less, or a little to the left. Just cold, efficient machine energy. Exactly how I like my relaxation.

Humans ask if I’ve “been drinking enough water.” Robots don’t care. They simply knead. They don’t judge when I accidentally groan like a dying sea lion. They don’t comment on my posture or the emotional tension “stored in my neck.” They just scan my spine with LIDAR and get to work like it’s a NASA mission.

You can select your own music from the ipad built into the table if you want to, but I like to turn it off and just enjoy the silence. It’s absolutely divine. Just the whir of gears and the sweet, sweet sound of my own vertebrae being gently realigned. Honestly, if I could get all my services done this way (dentist, haircuts, DMV), I’d be unstoppable. 

Signed, Sealed, Subscribed

After the first session, I did what any sane person would do: I signed a yearlong contract. They could’ve charged me double and I would’ve handed over my credit card like I was paying ransom for my dog. If this is how the robot uprising starts, I say: bring it. Let them massage us into submission. Let them knead humanity into extinction. I’m not going down fighting. I’m going down face-first into a heated massage bed while a chrome arm named Serenity pummels my glutes into enlightenment.

One day they’ll run our offices, drive our cars, and probably campaign for president — but until then, they can run their cold, perfect hands down my spine.