Poor Phyllis!

Here's the story I promised you before I went into legal-drama-land here on the blog.

I got into work last week, only to be accosted by my co-worker Phyllis, who pounced on me the instant I walked through the door.

"Did you hear about the weirdo?"

"Which one?" (a sad, but unfortunately truthful question.)

Okay, so Phyllis was massaging a gentleman of foreign extraction. She had been warned he might try something, since he had asked the front desk what ethnicity his therapist was, her hair color, how old she was, etc. Of course, that's not quite as bad as the clients who wanted a line-up of the female therapists, but still. (Naturally, the front desk refused to answer his questions.)

The massage progressed normally (except for his insistence on very thorough gluteal massage), until Phyllis turned the client over. He wanted her to massage his inner thigh, and she refused. While she was doing the neck and scalp massage (how we usually end the session), he begged her to massage his quads again. Sighing inwardly, she complied. With about two minutes left in the massage, she told him she was finished with his leg, and was about to return to the interrupted scalp massage, when he yanked the sheet off and, grabbing his junk, asked, "What about THIS?"

Phyllis did an abrupt about-face and marched out of the room, stating, "We're through here."

That's not the best part though. She quickly grabbed our supervisor (Billie) and was explaining the situation to her, when the client came out of the room into the hallway (in full view of anyone else, I might add) COMPLETELY NAKED, asking bewilderedly, "Is it over? Are we finished?"

Ya think?

Billie made him put his robe on, at least, and told him to go back into the men's spa. Here Jarvis came to the rescue once again, and told the client where he needed to go if he wanted the happy-ending kinda massage.

Here's a tip to all you travelers headed into Vegas: If you want the kind of massage with extra services, just ask a cabbie to take you to the right place. They know where to go. Or look up "massage" in the yellow pages. You won't find any legitimate therapists in the book, but you'll find plenty of the other ones!