I’m generally VERY skeptical of chiropractors, so the idea of finding one through an algorithm felt reckless. It’s like letting ChatGPT choose your surgeon. But when the internet kept serving me Christopher Dorsa again and again, it started to feel like fate.
The first time I...
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I’m generally VERY skeptical of chiropractors, so the idea of finding one through an algorithm felt reckless. It’s like letting ChatGPT choose your surgeon. But when the internet kept serving me Christopher Dorsa again and again, it started to feel like fate.
The first time I saw him was thanks to Zuckerberg’s algorithm doing what it does best… Listening. Facebook served me an ad right after I mentioned I needed a new chiro. I ignored it, only for his face to pop up on Instagram. Then TikTok joined in, showing him theatrically cracking a friend’s spine. At that point it felt like the tech gods had conspired to shove this tattooed, grill wearing, Labubu toting back cracker into my life. Resistance seemed futile, so I booked the first available appointment.
Walking into Dorsa Chiropractic was my first pleasant shock. The place didn’t smell like patchouli, there was no dim lighting, no cheesy tabletop water fountain, and no elevator music from 1985. Nor was it the sterile chain feel you get at The Joint. This place had the vibe of a high end tattoo studio in New York (the kind where you trust you won’t leave with an infection and the artists have actual portfolios). Bright art everywhere, beats in the background, staff who look like they moonlight in bands. It was almost too hip. Part of me wondered if I should call an ambulance and personal injury attorney preemptively.
Then Dorsa came out. If you haven’t Googled him, brace yourself. This guy does not look like a chiropractor. Tattoos everywhere, sneakers, and streetwear in place of the standard FIGS. On his wall, a photo of him rocking a diamond grill felt more like album art than décor. For someone like me, an executive who’s used to being judged for my own ink, it was refreshing. And behind the ink and swagger nothing but professionalism. He asked more questions than most chiropractors have bothered to ask me in years. He wanted to know what had worked before, what hadn’t, how my day to day felt. He explained different treatment options and actually listened to my answers. It was both impressive and frankly surprising.
As for the adjustment, I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a gentle spa like experience; I wanted the kind of forceful manipulation that leaves you feeling like you just survived a fight. Chris understood the assignment. He put me through the paces, and there was a moment when it felt like I was in the middle of an action movie fight scene; he twisted and snapped my neck with the precision and force Jackie Chan uses when he takes down a bad guy in his films. My neck cracked in the best way possible. Did I see stars? Yes. Was that exactly what I’d been searching for? Absolutely. The man adjusts with intention. And for those who worry about being manhandled don’t. He’s clearly adept at gauging how much force you need; he could treat my mom and her delicate neck just as easily as he manhandled mine.
I didn’t leave feeling like a brand new 19 year old without a single ache. That’s not how bodies work and to his credit Dorsa never promised that. He set real expectations, gave me exercises to do at home and didn’t push packages or endless upsells. That’s a breath of fresh air in a field where upselling is practically an Olympic sport.
Bottom line: Dorsa lives up to the hype. He’s edgy, knows his craft, and runs a clinic that feels like a high energy art space fused with a bespoke streetwear shop, where every detail is intentional and the vibe is unmistakably cool. If you’re tired of cookie cutter chiropractic experiences and want someone who actually listens, educates, and cracks spines like a pro, give in to the algorithm. I’ve already booked my follow up appointments and I’m not even mad about Zuckerberg being all up in my business anymore.