Q. Like many of his profession, Manolo, my most-proficient masseur, has the gift of the gab and maintains a garrulous monologue throughout my weekly session. This would be all right if he did not constantly break off from his pummelling to make a point — or just spout. Often (I’ve checked with his clock) his pauses to elaborate on an anonymous patient’s therapy can add up to 15 minutes of my 45-minute session, which is disconcerting, as massage is costly.