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Considering I regard what massage therapists charge to be a somewhat exorbitant fee, I usually keep my sessions to thirty minutes, although I’ve had sessions last 45 or 60 minutes on rare occasions when the chronic muscular tension is particularly acute.
To me, it would be a tad strange to spend a full hour with someone alone in a room and not say anything, even if the other person is a therapist.
All I ask is that the RMT’s breath is fresh and not reek of onions or hummus. Otherwise, I might want to break with the awkward silence to offer her a mint.
When I first started going for massage therapy, I wasn’t sure exactly what to do as far as conversation went. My first visit, we entered the room together. She asked me a few questions about where it was I was feeling tense. I wondered to myself, Is she going to stay here while I undress? To my delight, she allowed me to divest away from scrutinizing eyes. When she returned, I tried to think of things to say that would help ease my slight embarrassment at being semi-nude beneath the blanket that covered me.
I’ve since learned to keep mostly quiet and to try to lose myself in the experience. The room is often dimly lit with soothing New Age music playing softly in the background. I figure this is no time for me to start haggling. The whole ambiance is centered around relaxation, as if a cue for me to go with the flow and to try and drift away in the moment. We make a bit of chitchat before and after the massage; there’s very little need to do so, during the treatment.
Every RMT I’ve been to tends to keep quiet during the massage, unless I’m the one to initiate a brief verbal exchange. My impression from this is that they’d prefer to concentrate on their handiwork in silence than have me ask them what their opinion of the weather is or what they had for lunch. As one who is reticent by nature, this works for me, too.
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