Congradulate me. I managed to keep my mouth shut, for once. See, last night, my area in the bar was taken up by a group that didn’t leave until about 30 to my leaving. So, I hooked the chair up in this corner I hate to work on two of my fav clients (they’re the only reason I got the chair out that night). While working on the last one, this chick with the most fake looking of bleached out hair came up to ask how much a massage was. Of course, I was completely zoned, as I usually am, and gave a half-assed answer of $1/min. She walks off, I finish up, and another guy walks up. At this point, my arms are killing me and I look dead. So I explain to him that we’re there from 7P – 10P and he’s cool with that, and I expect to see him next week. I start packing things up, taking them out to my car, and this bleached hair chick follows me out. CB catches her first, and she’s wanting to know where I’m going, he explains that I work from 7 – 10 and we’ll be back next Tues and he’s willing to cover her next week for a 10 min. He gets a phone call and she gets in my face saying she’d just gotten $60 out of her account and I look at her like she’s nuts. No way I’m working on 1 person on a chair for 10 min. She says it’s for her 6 clients, then proceeds to push the money into my hands. I push it back, saying I’m done for the night and I can’t stay for another hour. CB realizes something’s going on, and explains to her that we already told someone that I’m done working, and if I were to continue working, I’d have to take him first. Well, it’s true, because I’m not going to blow someone off and then come back because someone else had more money. I don’t work that way. Yeah, makes me fairly poor, but hey, it’s the way the world works and my money is not going to be the result of practices that go against my own grain. So she turns around and says I’m not cut out to be in my line of work, to my face. It took a good bit to keep from politely making her feel like an idiot, so I just explained I had to go home and ice/heat my arms because they were hurting me, and left it at that. I so wanted to sit there and explain to her that being a therapist means I’m putting energy into working on these people, and sorry, but I refuse to put my own well-being above that of a stranger who’s trying to make it about money. They do not rank on the scale of sacrificing my health so that they can feel all nice and comfy. Hell, my Scotsman gets even less work now than previous, because of this. In fact, it’s down to him doing drainage work on my forearms instead of me working on his feet. She got pissed and stormed back in. I do not hope to see her next week, while it’d be nice to have a full hour of non-stop work, I’m not going to kill myself for it.
So, I get home, after the initial getting home small-talk, and I get a chance to check out the link iriedanym sent me. Now, does anyone know where I could find a cute pair of cammo underwear? I’ve got a couple of shots in my head for this shirt (if you want to see it, check yesterday’s commentary, it’s cute). Anyway, my Scotsman noticed my arms were a little puffy last night. So, cold shower and 3 Aleve, and I slept like a baby.
Now, I’m looking forward to my trek to the swimming hole next week, a good soak in a stream should do them good.
Also, pyynk, reminder – tomorrow is “the walk” in Gwinnett. 😉