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This immaculate, fifteenth-floor office suite within earshot of Grand Central’s honking crush of cabs offers punctual, no-frills service that gets the job done. Though the ambiance begins (and ends) with pistachio-green walls, the parlor’s masterful massages and appealing prices—$50 for an hour, $70 for 90 minutes—draw those seeking budget bodywork. The house take on Tui Na, a Chinese technique blending acupressure, Shiatsu, and oil-assisted kneading, is the only service offered, administered in five dimmed rooms separated by drawn curtains. The peace may be disturbed by the percussion of neighboring lunch-hour sessions, but most are too engaged in their own deep-tissue pummeling to pay mind. Offered in fifteen-minute intervals, practitioners begin tenderizing clients over a towel, then strategically fold back corners to target tightness with vigorous, high-pressure moves requiring knuckles, forearms, and elbows. While the techniques are not particularly relaxing, they’re flinchingly thorough—not an inch is spared, as ears, fingertips, and everything down to the flesh between one’s toes is rendered slack. Expect to leave unmistakably sore with the promise of imminent benefits—the next-day tension relief has earned the spa a following of weekly regulars. — Genevieve Leon

Men planning on penning an appointment should know that they must bring a female counterpart to take part in a same-room couple’s massage. They’re strictly forbidden from sessions otherwise.