Mr. Creepy from my previous post came back to the spa Sunday, my off day.
I had already warned my colleague A. about him, so she was prepared for his shenanigans.
When she was working on his upper thigh, while he was face up, and he flopped his leg to the side and asked her to work "right up here" on his inner thigh, she did a forearm stroke to the edge of the sheet while saying, "Okay, I'll massage up to HERE!"
When she said "here", she dug her elbow with quite a lot of pressure into a tender part of his thigh, pretty near his junk!
Ahhhh, revenge is sweet!
She didn't hear another peep out of him for the rest of the massage.
A., a very dignified young lady, surprised me during a side-by-side massage, where we massage two people in the same room.
Normally the spa music is what you'd expect, New Age-y, lots of harps and woodwinds, or else faux-Native American with throbbing drums and chanting. Let's not forget the lovely nature sounds intermixed with soft jazz!
During this session, we actually got some up-beat music, with a harder edge.
I glanced over at her (thankfully both clients were still face down!), and she looked at me and started head-banging, with a sneer worthy of Billy Idol distorting her mouth!
I almost died!
Have you ever had to keep totally silent while busting a gut laughing?
I don't recommend it.
It took me nearly five minutes to calm down, and I almost kicked A.'s ass after the session.
Or at least I was very tempted to.
If you've read my comments on other blogs, or read my profile, you know I love Metal/Hard Rock music.
Rammstein, Godsmack, Metallica, and Iron Maiden, among others, really trip my trigger.
So listening to the crappy "soothing" spa music all day makes me weep.
The worst was hearing a Muzak version of "Kumbaya".
I'm not kidding.
I was in the middle of a session, and all I wanted to do was locate the nearest campfire and roast some marshmallows.
After busting the composer's head in.