Just when you were feeling bad enough about the fact that you can neither afford nor find the time to get a facial for your face, along comes the butt facial to double your guilt. Because you didn’t know you were supposed to be getting your ass waxed and scrubbed, too, did you?

Well, now you do. And you’re welcome for adding that to your list of shit ain’t nobody got time for.

Smooth Synergy Cosmedical Spa in New York, NY is just one of (probably) many spas offering this posterior primpage to its patrons. According to their website, the Fanny Facial (so cleverly named) “is a very rich and pampering service that delivers anti-inflammatory results and leaves the skin smoother and more toned.”

How?

Well, you’re in for a treat:

We begin with an exfoliation of your backside. Then our estheticians continue by using Microcurrent Therapy to lift and tone the derriére. The final result is a smoother, more toned bottom. Your backside never felt better!

Exfoliation? OK, seems normal. But what’s this “Microcurrent Therapy” they speak of?

It’s a blast of electricity delivered to your booty. That’s right. It’s butt zapping. And it’s weird. 

I should know. I’ve actually had a butt facial without even realizing what I was getting into. And I have never wanted to exit a situation faster in my whole life. (And that’s including the time I accidentally wound up a bit too tipsy after a family gathering and got caught throwing up in the parking lot of my local CVS by a former student. Long story.)

My run-in with the butt facial occurred on a cruise. I was lured in by the promise of a “relaxing” procedure that would “minimize cellulite” and “firm the skin,” and it started out fine enough with a 15-minute massage and scrub down.

And then came the electrocution Microcurrent Therapy.

My ass was hooked up to what I can only describe as the mother of all TENS Units — sticky electrodes and wires and all. And then came the zapping.

At first, the current was simply tingly. I thought, despite my horror at finding myself unwittingly hooked to a torture device in international waters, that if this was going to be the worst of it, I could keep my mouth shut for the remaining 45 minutes of my session.

But then the tingling became stronger. And stronger. AND STRONGER. As the machine pulsed electrical current through my formerly unscathed muscles in increasing intensity, I seriously felt like my entire assular region had seized up in one massive Charley Horse and I was certain this was how I was going to die.

I didn’t. Die, that is. But I did wobble out of there feeling as though I’d just experienced hard labor in my backside, and I didn’t even have a baby to show for it.

Was my ass firmer and cellulite-free when all was said and done? I don’t know. This was back before my hindquarters had settled down somewhere by my knees, when I thought a tiny dimple qualified as cellulite, so maybe? I was too busy worrying I might permanently glow in the dark to notice and simply glad I had survived what felt like my first alien encounter without being taken aboard the mothership for eternal experimentation.

Suffice it to say, I’ve crossed “get a butt facial” off my to-do list indefinitely. But there are some who rave about the procedure.

According to author Will Pulos of TimeOut, “After about 10 minutes of staring at the wall, trying to decide what exact decision in my life I made that led me to this moment, I found it almost relaxing. There was a notable difference. It may not have lasted long, but I definitely left the spa with an extra perky pep in my step.”

Well, good for Will AND for the presumably many others who enjoy this procedure. After all, it wouldn’t exist if there weren’t a demand, right?

I’m not sure this is a must-add item to the bucket list, but if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be butt-shocked for 45 minutes straight, might as well give it a go. You could even come out the other side with a toned and tightened tush to boot.

What a time to be alive, no?