MJ & the c-word/Client stories

MjAxMy0wNGUwZjFjZTJiODUzNTE5It was an off week. 

The cunt was small, wiry and nervous. You know the type — control freak, never smiles, probably an executive or manager in finance or advertising and chronically constipated. She was with a male when I went to pick her up and she seemed annoyed when I introduced myself. She didn’t look at me when we shook hands. I asked her if she wanted a glass of water before the massage and she said yes then proceeded to pour it for herself. Okay. She wanted neck/shoulders, can take a lot of pressure, blah blah blah. I told her to get on the table face down, showed her where she could hang her clothes and left the room. She immediately called out and opened the door. She said she was pretty sure her appointments were all under her name and asked me to make sure her male companion was getting a massage. Sure. I got his name and left to check the schedule. He was on there and was getting picked up by a therapist. I came back to the room and she was still standing there in her robe. I assured her everything was fine and told her to get on the goddamn table. I start my massage and undraped her back and she is still wearing her fucking bikini top. It was the kind that had a bra around the chest and also tied behind the neck. I said it would be easier to work on her back if she unclasped it, which she did. How’s the pressure? (snooty)Fine. But when I went deep on her shoulders she squirmed and said OW! She was fidgety throughout. I turned her over and asked her if she wanted me to work on her neck. She said yes. I asked her if she could untie the bikini top so I could access her neck. She sighed, untied it, then threw the top onto the floor. I picked it up and hung it up then worked on her neck. Working on her hands, I noticed a wedding band. Someone wanted to spend the rest of their life with this piece of shit? I finished the massage with scalp work and she said “actually, I don’t like that.” Well, why the fuck did you say no when I asked if there were any areas you wanted to avoid or didn’t like work on ???  Annoyed, I asked her if I could work on her feet where, out of the goodness of my heart, I gave her a few extra minutes of resentful foot massage to make up for the time lost while I was out checking on her companion (cuz I’m an asshole like that). When I met her outside the room, she again refused to look at me and said thanks over her shoulder when she walked away. At least she was consistent.
Here’s what you do next time.
Take the stick out of her ass BEFORE she gets on the table. 
Then repeatedly beat her over the head with it. 
Works every time.
(and a personal thanks to the super sweet client this therapist had in the same week to balance the scales a bit)!

A true blue spectacle


I’ve been in pain for close to a month now because that’s just what I do.
Totally my own fault but it sucks just the same.

You can’t keep taking from your body and give it NOTHING (Krispy Kreme doesn’t count but it totally should).  It’s like putting cheap gas in your Ferrari (you like how I compared myself to a Ferrari and not, say, a Dodge Dart?), driving it into the ground and only going to the mechanic when something breaks or starts leaking (just for the record, nothing is leaking – ewww…).

Although my Wiccan friend helped me tremendously with her fabulous hands, it was like putting a band-aid on a broken arm.  I needed more than just one session and I knew it.  I couldn’t ask her for more massage after she did close to 12,000 in the past week alone.  It’s kinda weird to go somewhere else to get a massage when you work in a place chock full of talented therapists. But even with my discount, it’s still pricey.  So I looked up cheap massages on Google and it led me to Yelp, which is my go to for trustworthy reviews of everything. Important note – when you write a review of say ‘the best facial you’ve ever had in your life’ and you don’t include the esthetician’s name, just know you are a jackass.  I won’t go just anywhere and hope I get lucky.  I want more than one person (who can spell and isn’t a fool) to tell me about their experience and most of the time I am not disappointed.  Like today for instance, I was as far from disappointed as one could hope to get.  In other words, I got my ass ripped up, but in a good way.

I went to the 8th Street location because it falls into the 7 block radius I’ll travel outside my apartment.
His name was Jason and hot damn he rubbed me the right way.  Perfect firm pressure without hurting me.  And it was $48 for an hour  (I gave him a $20 tip and that had nothing to do with his grasp of the English language because he didn’t have any).  What can you honestly get in the city for $48 besides a burger and a large coke?
I was face down the entire massage and had absolutely no problem with that.  He used hot stones at the end of the massage which is what I call a ‘happy ending’.

The ONLY issue I had was my frustration with calling to make an appointment.  Not sure why you would have someone who doesn’t speak English, AT ALL, answer the phone to take appointments. What could she possibly help me with?  After a few minutes of ridiculous repetition (as if she would learn English by the fourth time I asked if Jason was working today), we both got realistic and hung up.  I waited a while and called the main number and someone reluctantly helped me.  It’s an extremely inexpensive Asian massage parlor and it’s clean – you can’t have everything.  The massages are usually awesome but if you’re expecting luxury or even somewhere to put your clothes, don’t go.  I put my bra and underwear in my coat pocket and threw my bag on the floor next to my shoes and got on the table.  I could hear people talking in the next room and I’m pretty sure the receptionist came in to talk to my therapist during the massage but I was feeling so amazing, I wouldn’t have cared if she pulled up a chair and knitted a sweater during my treatment.

And yes, the post title is a Barry Manilow reference.  Fuck off.