Ooo... nice.

In my last post, I wrote about being a man of routine. And, one recent major hiccup in my routine of work, gym, and sleep has been going to the chiropractor. I mentioned in an earlier post how I was nervous about getting my neck popped. You’ll be happy to know that he popped my neck without paralyzing me. In fact, I have found the whole process to be great. It’s like getting a manly massage.

I feel like getting a normal massage is girly. I got one in the Bahamas when I got married, and while it felt good, I felt silly the whole time. I kept wanting to say, “Harder.” I don’t know what my deal is but I just wanted to be pounded like a piece of meat being tenderized. Am I a latent homosexual? Your call.

Well, my chiropractor meets those… needs. He’s like 190 lbs and just puts all of his weight into popping my back. He really seems to like it, too. And, I get it. I like popping my wife’s toes. Whenever she’s lying in bed, I walk by and pull her toes until they pop. I don’t know if it’s just me or if it’s a guy thing.

When he starts popping me, he lets out noises and expressions of satisfaction. He’ll pop my neck and say, “Ah, that’s the stuff, “or just, “Ooo.. nice.” He asks me, “Does that feel good?” every time he pops my neck. He’s obviously getting some enjoyment from popping my poppable places. Like, I said, I get it. I think being a chiropractor would be the best job ever. Just sit around all day popping people’s backs and getting that money.

I wonder if he gets home and talks about popping people’s backs to his wife. “Ah, honey, there was this big guy here and I just wrecked his back. I just put all of my weight on his back and BAM! Just fantastic. Oh God, it was fantastic.”

She probably gets annoyed with it.

But, I’d get it.