The Peeps That I Rub

Lack of posting doesn't mean lack of busy-ness. It actually means quite the opposite, with a dash of attempted A&P IV repressed memories as well...

Today, I share the delightful melange of clients I've had so far this semester. They are as diverse as the characters flying along on the bus in Speed.

1. Bony Man--He is bony and he is a man. I've worked on him twice, and I always feel like saying, "Dude, why do you come in--you have no muscles at all to massage, just bones." He also sounds like he's suffocating when I work on him. This I have no explanation for. Except that perhaps his giant bones impede all his other physiological processes.



2. Awesome Lady--Every once in a while you get a client you just wanna marry and have little massage-babies with. She is the one. She is in her 60's, and she knows PRECISELY the right amount of talking to do where I don't get distracted or feel like strangling her for being obnoxious. She is into beer-brewing and is super-active. And we just gel, kind of like nice flannel pjs and a pair of slippers on a cold winter day. It's a mutual appreciation as well--I realized this after my first massage with her when she said, "How can I get you as my 'therapist' for the rest of the semester?"



3. Cute Southern Guy--His son dragged him in one week, and he's come back ever since. We talk about mountains and cars. I know little about either but love talking with him nonetheless.



4. Nekkid Moaner Guy--He is a pasty-assed skinny nerd of a white boy who strips down buck-nekkid and offers up quiet little appreciative moans the whole time. And he doesn't tip. I still don't understand what possesses people to moan when in the presence of someone massaging them. Even if I was being massaged by Sex itself, draped in chocolate and more Sex, I *still* think I'd feel uncomfortable about being quite so vociferous with my enjoyment. But that being beside the point: If you moan, you should tip. Especially if you're buck-nekkid. And a guy. And pasty-assed. And the sheets over your bare ass look like waves on the ocean or frosting on a cake and this fact has tainted my appreciation of both forevermore. Otherwise, next time I'm gonna be inclined to loogie my massage oil.



5. More Generalized Characters--For some reason this semester is the semester of late-people. Not just one late person, but EVERY SINGLE PERSON. Many of which are Late People Who Act Shocked That Your Massage Schedule Does Not Revolve Around Them and That You *DO* Have Other Clients.

All in all, clinic's not been so bad this semester. Except for the fact that it's on Saturday mornings. Then again, in the face of my upcoming semester of seminars (5 weekends of seminars that run Fridays, 6-10pm, and Saturdays & Sundays from 9-5), clinic is the equivalent of Magical Unicorn Land.