Most of what I do here is a note-taking. There are always 6 or 7 different stories brewing my balding head. In order for me to include them in a coffee-table book or whatever, I have to write some of it here.
I have been working as a massage therapist for almost a year now. The women and men that I meet in this environment are fascinating, and will make it into some story I tell some day. I take notes on them. This is one of those instances.
Tales From The Table: Jasmine
A regular customer of mine (since March), came to see me yesterday.
She always divulges too much information.
In the elevator from the locker room to our massage room on her first visit, when I asked her if there were any areas she's like me to focus on, she replied "Well, my boyfriend proposed to me last night."
"Congratulations" I said.
She continued, "and I told him no. I think I'm making a huge mistake."
I said "So, the first thing you did was come to the spa? Great!!"
"No," she answered, "The first thing I did was call my shrink. Then I came to the spa. So, I guess you can work on whatever you want."
Too much information.
Yesterday when she came, nothing happened in the elevator. I got her to the room. Told her I would step out for a second to let her get undressed. I let her know that when I return she should be face down and under the sheet.
When I returned, she was face up, naked, and on top of the sheet. Seeing the shock on my face, she said "Well, I just had Botox a few hours ago and I don't think I should be lying face down."
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