It was like any other ordinary day doing my errands on the Route 30 outlet gauntlet.  I sat there at the light at Target, waiting my turn to go. Looking to the right, I observed the brown brick building with the wrap-around porch that was there. Acupressure the sign read. There wasn’t anything noteworthy about that except for the crudeness of the hand lettering that spelled it out.   Noticing that the curtains were closed tight, I watched a man walk up the front steps of the porch and go in. Instead of moving on with my morning, I made a right into the acupressure parking lot. The side blinds of the business were down as well.