A Tale of Two Massages: The Wellness Room Experience in Puerto Vallarta…read more
The first time I visited The Wellness Room in Puerto Vallarta, it was a slice of paradise. My boyfriend and I booked massages, and I ended up with the masseur stationed in the front room (I believe his name was Kris). Let me tell you, it was a top-tier experience. The massage itself was exceptional - relaxing, professional, and thoroughly rejuvenating. The place was spotless, and most importantly, there were no uncomfortable moments or unprofessional propositions, a rarity among massage parlors in this particular neighborhood. I floated out of there with a smile so wide you could've used it as a hammock.
So impressed were we that we encouraged our friend, a fellow traveler, to give it a shot. He loved it so much he went back for two massages during the trip, both with the same guy. The Wellness Room was riding high in our vacation memories - a little oasis of relaxation. Naturally, we decided to squeeze in one more visit before heading home. And oh, how the mighty fell.
On January 7, 2025, at 4 PM, I returned with high hopes and was assigned to the second room. At first, everything seemed fine - standard setup, decent technique - but then the mood shifted. As I lay there, blissfully unaware and teetering on the edge of sleep, the masseur apparently assumed I'd drifted off completely. That's when things got weird.
I heard faint movement in the corner of the room where my clothes and bag were stored. Initially, I thought he was fetching more oil (which, for the record, was stored elsewhere). But then I heard the unmistakable zzzzip of my bag being opened. My bag, by the way, contained a gift: a pocketwatch-style metal locket filled with miniature dice for tabletop RPGs. It makes a very distinct rattling sound when moved. A sound I heard loud and clear.
At that moment, I began to stir, and the guy bolted like he'd just realized I was rolling a Nat 20 on perception. He left the door wide open in his hurry to make his daring escape. A few moments later, he returned, all casual-like, claiming he wasn't finished massaging my back. Uh, sure, buddy.
I let him finish the massage, but any semblance of relaxation was gone. I was on high alert, mentally cataloging every item in my bag. The moment he was done, I checked my belongings. Sure enough, there were greasy handprints on the zipper, evidence of his attempted sleight of hand.
What could have been another stellar experience turned into a mix of incredulity, distrust, and lingering disappointment.
The Verdict: The Wellness Room is a tale of two extremes. One visit left me glowing with satisfaction, the other left me clutching my belongings like I was Frodo in Mordor. My advice? Stick to the front room masseur - he's a pro and a class act. As for the second room... well, let's just say you might want to invest in a lock for your bag and cast Detect Magic before entering.
Would I recommend it? Cautiously, yes. But consider this review your traveler's warning: not all Wellness Room experiences are created equal.
