This morning I had an interesting encounter at the elevator.
I was trying to exit, while a very large man pushed his way on.
Whatever, I thought.
I said, "Hi!", because I tend to greet everyone I meet (I'm just like that, sue me!).
I was around the corner and the elevator doors were closing when my caffeine-less, muddled brain finally processed what this guy had said to me in return.
"Fuck you."
Wha'?
Well, good morning to you, too, Sunshine!
I couldn't even get angry, I was laughing too hard. I mean, who the hell just says, "Fuck you." to a total stranger?
Well, I hope whatever bug crawled up his ass decided to depart, and he had a better day.
Later on in the morning, this conversation occurred between my humble self and an innuendo-spouting guest, you know, the kinda guy who always has to find some sort of sexual connotation to everything.
Me: What size shoe do you wear? (We provide the guests with sandals for the spa, and I just KNEW what was coming!)
Guest: How about a size 15, 'cause you KNOW what they say about men with big feet! (expectant look on his face)
Me: (blandly)They need big shoes?
Guest: (hesitates, with a finger pointing at me) How about a size 9?
Me: No problem.
Me - one point
Horny guest - ZERO!!!!
Victory is mine!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Random
Limousines don't automatically have the right-of-way.
There, now that I've got that out of my system, let me ask you something:
Do you find it more difficult to be rude to people or polite? Which requires more effort for you?
'Cause I've got to say, I find it pretty much impossible to be rude!
Unlike the guest we had in today.
Phrases heard: "I'm a college educated business professional!"
"I feel I'm being degraded!"
"No, you're not trying to "make sure we're on the same page", you are implying I'm too stupid to understand a spa menu!"
And so on, and so forth. Her tone was so bad, her embarrassed husband fled the reception area and apparently hid around the corner until she was finished.
Everything we said to her, she viewed as an attack.
How can you go through life that way, with such a huge chip on your shoulder, thinking everyone is out to get you?
I wasn't so much offended by her, rather almost bemused. Like observing some strange species of animal on TV.
What set her off? She was requesting a massage which overlapped a massage she was already scheduled to receive in a package she booked. We were just trying to avoid her wasting her money, etc. She didn't quite see it that way!
Needless to say, she was a lousy tipper (I'm just amazed she tipped at all!).
Anyway, it was a very interesting day!
Addendum to randomness:
TOTALLY smokin' guy walked in to get a massage. He smelled sooooo good and he had a piercing gaze (I've been reading far too many romance novels!)
After he was escorted back to the men's spa, his fragrance (NOT odor!) lingered around the reception area. Ahhhhhh.
After A. came to pick up his ticket, we told her how hot he was, and she just rolled her eyes at us, consummate professional that she is. Funny, how just a few minutes later she raced up to the reception as Smokin' Guy was getting situated in the treatment room, fanning her face with both hands and stating that she didn't know if this was going to work. We just laughed mockingly! She even said she had trouble looking directly at him! Making eye contact, that is. Well, HE was a good tipper!
There, now that I've got that out of my system, let me ask you something:
Do you find it more difficult to be rude to people or polite? Which requires more effort for you?
'Cause I've got to say, I find it pretty much impossible to be rude!
Unlike the guest we had in today.
Phrases heard: "I'm a college educated business professional!"
"I feel I'm being degraded!"
"No, you're not trying to "make sure we're on the same page", you are implying I'm too stupid to understand a spa menu!"
And so on, and so forth. Her tone was so bad, her embarrassed husband fled the reception area and apparently hid around the corner until she was finished.
Everything we said to her, she viewed as an attack.
How can you go through life that way, with such a huge chip on your shoulder, thinking everyone is out to get you?
I wasn't so much offended by her, rather almost bemused. Like observing some strange species of animal on TV.
What set her off? She was requesting a massage which overlapped a massage she was already scheduled to receive in a package she booked. We were just trying to avoid her wasting her money, etc. She didn't quite see it that way!
Needless to say, she was a lousy tipper (I'm just amazed she tipped at all!).
Anyway, it was a very interesting day!
Addendum to randomness:
TOTALLY smokin' guy walked in to get a massage. He smelled sooooo good and he had a piercing gaze (I've been reading far too many romance novels!)
After he was escorted back to the men's spa, his fragrance (NOT odor!) lingered around the reception area. Ahhhhhh.
After A. came to pick up his ticket, we told her how hot he was, and she just rolled her eyes at us, consummate professional that she is. Funny, how just a few minutes later she raced up to the reception as Smokin' Guy was getting situated in the treatment room, fanning her face with both hands and stating that she didn't know if this was going to work. We just laughed mockingly! She even said she had trouble looking directly at him! Making eye contact, that is. Well, HE was a good tipper!
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Yes, you do get naked...
Think no evil!
I did field the question today whether one gets naked before receiving a massage.
The answer is YES, especially if you want the massage to be good! If you leave any garments on, the therapist will generally not massage that area, which means no gluteal work, and if you leave a bra on, well, the straps definitely get in the way!
Thankfully, no female client has ever left her bra on when I was working, but panties yes, all the time. Pretty frustrating!
Also had one guy leave his JEANS on. I mean, what am I supposed to do then?!
All I could do for the lower body was compressions through the sheet. BOring.
Well, I guess everyone has their comfort zones, so to speak.
Another thing I've noticed since starting work at the spa is how disadvantaged the male therapists are. So many men apparently have a problem receiving a massage from another man. Someone also told me that the thought of getting an erection from a massage by a MAN was too horrifying to contemplate! Relax, dudes! If it happens, so what? Nine times out of ten the therapist won't even notice (we're not looking at your crotches, for God's sake!), and it's a completely normal reaction to massage (as long as you're not masturbating, and you don't try to get me to touch it, in which case your ass is outta there, ASAP!).
Anyway, the bottom line is (no pun intended), if you're going to receive a full body massage, take a shower, wear the robe provided (with nothing underneath), and RELAX.
That is the ultimate massage experience!
I did field the question today whether one gets naked before receiving a massage.
The answer is YES, especially if you want the massage to be good! If you leave any garments on, the therapist will generally not massage that area, which means no gluteal work, and if you leave a bra on, well, the straps definitely get in the way!
Thankfully, no female client has ever left her bra on when I was working, but panties yes, all the time. Pretty frustrating!
Also had one guy leave his JEANS on. I mean, what am I supposed to do then?!
All I could do for the lower body was compressions through the sheet. BOring.
Well, I guess everyone has their comfort zones, so to speak.
Another thing I've noticed since starting work at the spa is how disadvantaged the male therapists are. So many men apparently have a problem receiving a massage from another man. Someone also told me that the thought of getting an erection from a massage by a MAN was too horrifying to contemplate! Relax, dudes! If it happens, so what? Nine times out of ten the therapist won't even notice (we're not looking at your crotches, for God's sake!), and it's a completely normal reaction to massage (as long as you're not masturbating, and you don't try to get me to touch it, in which case your ass is outta there, ASAP!).
Anyway, the bottom line is (no pun intended), if you're going to receive a full body massage, take a shower, wear the robe provided (with nothing underneath), and RELAX.
That is the ultimate massage experience!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Go Tell the Spartans...
Saw 300 on Sunday with Silver. Excellent, excellent movie, with LOTS of computer animated blood flying!
I turned to Silver at one point during the show and asked her why all the warriors weren't drenched in blood, since they were spilling it so copiously, and she suggested that maybe they were sweating it all off.
And no, in case you're wondering, I didn't worry about head lice at all while watching the flick, I think I'm mastering that phobia...YAY, ME!
The only thing that bothered me during the whole movie experience was the parents who brought the entire brood of kiddies to watch...5 kids aged about 12/13 down to maybe 4/5.
WTF were they thinking?! That they didn't want to pay for a babysitter? Well, I can tell you that their sleep in the foreseeable future is sure to be interrupted by nightmares suffered by the youngest of the children, at the minimum.
What happened to taking the kids to see a Disney flick, anyway? They don't ALL suck!
Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let me share a little vignette from the spa that got lost in all the sleaze of my last post.
The spa I work at is located at the opposite end of a hallway from the casino wedding chapel. There were NINE weddings scheduled on Valentine's Day (how cliche, no?). At about five minutes to 5:00 PM, two handsome, young, tuxedo-clad men, made notable by the panicked expressions on their faces, came storming into the spa.
"The wedding chapel, where is it?!" one gasped. My colleague and I pointed to our right and said, "All the way at the other end of the hallway!".
After they stampeded out again, my colleague and I had a chuckle over the close resemblance of the young men's eyes to the eyes of getting-ready-to-bolt horses...white all the way around!
Here's a message to people who, for whatever reason, don't want to leave a tip for their therapist or aesthetician...DON'T LIE!
I might hate you and feel bad for your therapist/aesthetician when you say, "No, thanks.", when I ask if you'd like to leave a gratuity, but I will respect your honesty.
Don't tell me you just have to get some cash and you'll be right back, or any of the other lame-ass, ridiculous excuses you come up with!
Just say NO.
That's all.
I turned to Silver at one point during the show and asked her why all the warriors weren't drenched in blood, since they were spilling it so copiously, and she suggested that maybe they were sweating it all off.
And no, in case you're wondering, I didn't worry about head lice at all while watching the flick, I think I'm mastering that phobia...YAY, ME!
The only thing that bothered me during the whole movie experience was the parents who brought the entire brood of kiddies to watch...5 kids aged about 12/13 down to maybe 4/5.
WTF were they thinking?! That they didn't want to pay for a babysitter? Well, I can tell you that their sleep in the foreseeable future is sure to be interrupted by nightmares suffered by the youngest of the children, at the minimum.
What happened to taking the kids to see a Disney flick, anyway? They don't ALL suck!
Well, now that I've gotten that out of my system, let me share a little vignette from the spa that got lost in all the sleaze of my last post.
The spa I work at is located at the opposite end of a hallway from the casino wedding chapel. There were NINE weddings scheduled on Valentine's Day (how cliche, no?). At about five minutes to 5:00 PM, two handsome, young, tuxedo-clad men, made notable by the panicked expressions on their faces, came storming into the spa.
"The wedding chapel, where is it?!" one gasped. My colleague and I pointed to our right and said, "All the way at the other end of the hallway!".
After they stampeded out again, my colleague and I had a chuckle over the close resemblance of the young men's eyes to the eyes of getting-ready-to-bolt horses...white all the way around!
Here's a message to people who, for whatever reason, don't want to leave a tip for their therapist or aesthetician...DON'T LIE!
I might hate you and feel bad for your therapist/aesthetician when you say, "No, thanks.", when I ask if you'd like to leave a gratuity, but I will respect your honesty.
Don't tell me you just have to get some cash and you'll be right back, or any of the other lame-ass, ridiculous excuses you come up with!
Just say NO.
That's all.
Friday, March 16, 2007
Did you miss me?
Of COURSE you did!
Well, computer issues resolved (it was a crapped-out wireless router), so here I am again, boring the masses.
Just a few vignettes of spa life:
The lovely (middle-aged, white) couple from New Jersey, who come to Vegas twice a year for conventions.
The hubby always books the couples massage in the side-by-side room, always has the same (black) male therapist massage his wife, and always tries to get this therapist to agree to completely undrape his wife's ass while it is being massaged.
So he (hubby) can watch.
Of course the therapist always refuses, because he's a professional who'd like to KEEP HIS LICENSE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!
According to both therapists involved, the hubby never has his face in the face cradle, but instead always has it turned toward his wife, so he can observe the wife-massage action.
I guess it takes all kinds. One guess what this guy's (not-so-secret) fantasy is!
Then there was the guy who spent quite some time perusing the large spa menu posted just outside our door. Who then came to the front desk and asked if we had the "special" massage that apparently wasn't listed on the menu!
When told by my colleague that all offered massages were listed, he then asked her (who happens to be Korean-American), whether she was the "only Oriental gal" doing massage at our spa. He left, obviously disappointed, after she explained to him that she wasn't a massage therapist, and that she was the only person of Asian descent working there!
This, by the way, is a recurring theme at our spa!
"Special massages" and "Orientals".
Look in the goddamn yellow pages, you fucking perverts.
You'll find everything you're looking for there.
(Yes, I've decided to be not-so PG-13 anymore. Why? Because this is how I really am and because I'm a comment whore who is desperate for any kind of response to my posts...didn't you know that about me already? ;))
Oh, and a little message to the disgusting asshole who hawked a loogie on me from who-knows-which hotel room balcony as I was leaving work:
You are very lucky that I don't know who you are. I would have had a couple of buddies from security hold you down while I permanently rearranged your tackle.
If said loogie had hit my head or face instead of my shin, the consequences for you would have been fatal. I'll leave it to your imagination, but trust me when I say that anything you can imagine falls far short of my reality...
One last vignette before I sign off for tonight:
"Naturally Santa"
As opposed to "Artificially Santa"?
Apparently this is an organization of "real" Santas, men who have the gut, the white hair and beard, and for all I know, the twinkle in their eyes! (Probably, since this is Vegas after all, the red nose and cheeks, too...alcohol is abundant here!)
Not to mention the ho-ho-hos on every street corner! (horrible pun, I know, twenty lashes with a wet noodle for me!)
One more thing.
Let it be known that Canadians are generally horrible tippers...but they're really polite about it!
Well, computer issues resolved (it was a crapped-out wireless router), so here I am again, boring the masses.
Just a few vignettes of spa life:
The lovely (middle-aged, white) couple from New Jersey, who come to Vegas twice a year for conventions.
The hubby always books the couples massage in the side-by-side room, always has the same (black) male therapist massage his wife, and always tries to get this therapist to agree to completely undrape his wife's ass while it is being massaged.
So he (hubby) can watch.
Of course the therapist always refuses, because he's a professional who'd like to KEEP HIS LICENSE, FOR GOD'S SAKE!
According to both therapists involved, the hubby never has his face in the face cradle, but instead always has it turned toward his wife, so he can observe the wife-massage action.
I guess it takes all kinds. One guess what this guy's (not-so-secret) fantasy is!
Then there was the guy who spent quite some time perusing the large spa menu posted just outside our door. Who then came to the front desk and asked if we had the "special" massage that apparently wasn't listed on the menu!
When told by my colleague that all offered massages were listed, he then asked her (who happens to be Korean-American), whether she was the "only Oriental gal" doing massage at our spa. He left, obviously disappointed, after she explained to him that she wasn't a massage therapist, and that she was the only person of Asian descent working there!
This, by the way, is a recurring theme at our spa!
"Special massages" and "Orientals".
Look in the goddamn yellow pages, you fucking perverts.
You'll find everything you're looking for there.
(Yes, I've decided to be not-so PG-13 anymore. Why? Because this is how I really am and because I'm a comment whore who is desperate for any kind of response to my posts...didn't you know that about me already? ;))
Oh, and a little message to the disgusting asshole who hawked a loogie on me from who-knows-which hotel room balcony as I was leaving work:
You are very lucky that I don't know who you are. I would have had a couple of buddies from security hold you down while I permanently rearranged your tackle.
If said loogie had hit my head or face instead of my shin, the consequences for you would have been fatal. I'll leave it to your imagination, but trust me when I say that anything you can imagine falls far short of my reality...
One last vignette before I sign off for tonight:
"Naturally Santa"
As opposed to "Artificially Santa"?
Apparently this is an organization of "real" Santas, men who have the gut, the white hair and beard, and for all I know, the twinkle in their eyes! (Probably, since this is Vegas after all, the red nose and cheeks, too...alcohol is abundant here!)
Not to mention the ho-ho-hos on every street corner! (horrible pun, I know, twenty lashes with a wet noodle for me!)
One more thing.
Let it be known that Canadians are generally horrible tippers...but they're really polite about it!
Christina's Words of Wisdom #4
Whenever somebody says they "don't mean to be a bother/difficult/a pain in the ass..." they ALWAYS ARE!
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