Hi there. Come on in. If you missed yesterday, I’m just picking up on my story where I left off.
My friend then asked me what kind of massage I did. I told him I did basically a modified Swedish. I used to do a lot of trigger point work but that got too hurtful for my thumbs because it involved deep pressure. He then asked me to tell him what I actually do. I told him, start with the head, neck, and face, left arm, right arm, chest, if needed abdomen, left leg, right leg, reflexology on the feet, flip over back and arms and legs again. That’s it in a nutshell. There are many different types of massage. Here’s a list of ten:
Types of Massage
Swedish Massage Therapy, Aromatherapy Massage, Hot Stone Massage
Deep Tissue Massage, Shiatsu, Thai Massage, Pregnancy Massage, Reflexology
Sports Massage, Back Massage
Since I don’t do deep tissue massage any more, I told him one more time that I do modified Swedish and reflexology. I have done pregnancy massage and sports massage as well, working on ballerinas and marathon runners. I didn’t think that is what would interest him.
Back to my beginning. After a couple of years of lugging my table to clients, I fixed up an office at home with most of the clients now coming to me. I still did outcalls. I read of a dentist who was interested in adding massage to his business location. He owned a building and was looking for other health professionals. He asked if he could have an evening appointment to see if he would like me to join his practice. I told my husband he needed to be home by 7:00 because I had scheduled a client so he was needed to watch our son. My ex didn’t show on time. I put my son in his room and prayed he wouldn’t start roaming around the house. He was only four. The massage was uneventful. I heard my husband come home while I was finishing up. The dentist left, but he spoke outside the door. My ex was in the back yard and heard him. I don’t know if the dentist saw my angry husband or not but I think he did. He never did call back.
As the dentist pulled away, my ex entered my office. I was mad at him for not being home not only for my son, but also for me. I trusted the dentist but you never know. My ex was more mad at me. He had stopped off for his daily drinks and was quite loaded. He exploded. He started attacking me and he grabbed my uniform top and ripped it open, buttons flying. “You had a MAN in here alone.” It was useless to argue. That time he got himself slightly under control and stormed out of the door and into his car to go back to the bar. I was left cowering in the corner where he had backed me with no escape.
Now here I was in present time, bartering with a man. He’d already been to my home once and we’ve known each other a while. We were doing a fairly good job of starting a friendship. I decided to be brave and trust him. We hadn’t set a time but I was aiming towards an afternoon appointment with sunlight flowing through the window. A few evenings later we were instant messaging and in an attempt at humor he mentioned perhaps there would be “extras” to go along with the massage. That brought back the feeling I felt when he asked me what I did during a massage. That put me in quite a predicament. I was under the assumption that I did not physically appeal to him. We were and always would be, “friends”….not “friends with benefits”, but given enough time to get to know each other…. I asked him what kind of extras, and he replied oh, maybe apple pie? Yeah, right. Even though I only work on friends when they really need it, I still consider myself the professional I always was. He expected me to come back with a snappy bawdy remark. I couldn’t think of anything. My mind was reeling. Of course he’s just teasing, I told myself. But what if he’s not? The kind of women who give the kind of massage I thought he was alluding to, are NOT massage THERAPISTS. I was wondering what he was thinking of me. The picture wasn’t a pleasant one. All kinds of scenerios were racing through my mind. Imagine the surprise this couple felt.
They ordered a “masseuse”, not a word that many professionals used these days. They got a prostitute. This was just on the internet yesterday.
The stager came through today, kind of like a tornado, and there is nothing left in view in my house that says me. I feel like I’m living in a model home which is exactlly what they want it to look like. I certainly have been “staged” ! There are mounds of things on the floor that I have to box and decide right now if I want it in the garage sale stack or the take it with me stack. More of my story tomorrow about massage therapy. If you drop by, I’ll give you an empty box to fill. I need help!
Gotta go work on the house. I have envisioned selling it quickly. Namaste. Attic Annie