One of the businesses in our local mall in Bloomington, Minn., is a Wellness Center offering a holiday special for new clients: $59 for a 60-minute introductory massage, a perfect Christmas gift for “the woman in your life.”

So, I checked with the woman in my life. She thanked me but passed on the opportunity.

Since then, I’ve noticed advertisements for massage parlors in such Twin Cities publications and websites as “CityPages.” One ad mentioned a “happy ending.”

Wonder what that means?

These days, undercover cops keep a close tab on these businesses.

That wasn’t always the case. Not many years ago, massage parlors were unregulated and often involved prostitution. Many of the workers were under age.

When I first visited New York as a college student in the 1960s, Eighth Avenue between 42nd Street and 57th Streeet was known as the “Minnesota Strip.”

High school girls estranged from their parents had been recruited by pimps (the state basketball tournament was said to be a favorite place to look for prospects), taken to NYC, hooked on drugs, and put on the street.

A very ugly story to be sure.

Anyway, the health club I belong to at our mall also offers massage therapy. If I need any, I’ll call on the trainers there.