You just made us dinner, you're cracking us up with your A+ funny stories, but we're gonna have to pass on your offer to give us a massage. You know why? Because you are terrible at giving massages. In fact, you somehow manage to give the least relaxing massages we've ever had. Your "technique"--if that's what you want to call it--is basically to beat up our muscles with your fingers, one knead at a time. It's like you learned how to do this by just mimicking what you've seen on TV. And, for the record, these are yelps of pain, not relief. Who yelps when they are getting a massage? That should've been your first clue.
And, you keep slathering our back with Vaseline Intensive Care lotion out of an old, crusty bottle. This is probably the worst-smelling lotion you could've picked. It smells like a medicine cabinet farted. And, seeing as how it's our fourth date and the bottle is nearly empty, we assume you used it on your last girlfriend, too. Great. See? This is the kind of stuff running through our head as you pound our back with your hand hammers. This is the opposite of relaxing.
We would've said something to you about this earlier, but you seem so confident about your massage-giving abilities. In fact, you downright boasted about them. Who are we to crush your ego like that? We might be smelly and sore but at least we're not smelly, sore, and mean.