She’s Not Getting The Massage

, | USA | Right | August 18, 2016

I work at a massage spa that also has a sauna. One day, two ladies come in and use the sauna together. After they’ve left, I find one of their phones while I am cleaning.

Since we have their numbers on file, I try calling one of the ladies, which rings the phone I have. I therefore call the second lady, who answers. I tell her to notify her friend that I have her phone. She agrees, and says she will tell her friend right away.

However, as soon as I hang up, her friend’s phone lights up with a text:

“the spa has your phone”

What part of “I have your friend’s phone” didn’t she understand?

 

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Must Be Herd Of Hearing

| PA, USA | Working | March 14, 2014

(I’m the weird one in this story. I’m a massage therapist working at a chain location. All employees are given one free massage a month on the company. One of the receptionists has booked with me one evening. She has her hair dyed a vibrant red. I’m am somewhat of a Brony, but as far as I know she is unfamiliar with the ‘My Little Ponies: Friendship is Magic’ show.)

Me: *finishing pre-massage intake* “What kind of pressure do you want?”

Coworker: “Deep tissue. Just not so deep that it’s painful, if possible.”

Me: “Okay. And lastly, what color hair do you want when I’m finished?”

Coworker: “… Excuse me?”

Me: “You said you wanted to try a scalp massage this time, right?”

Coworker: “Yeah.”

Me: “Well by working the scalp and manipulating the follicles I can alter your hair color. Maybe make it a deeper red.”

Coworker: “I don’t… What?”

Me: “Or maybe give you a few highlights?”

Coworker: *stutters a bit, not sure if I’m being serious*

Me: *completely straight face* “Look, in order to give a good massage you have to get empathic a bit and in touch with what the other person is feeling. Massage is friendship. And friendship, is magic.”

Coworker: “I don’t think… Are you… huh?”

Me: “Oh for the love of… I’m just screwing with you!”

Girly Man

| | Right | July 20, 2008

(This big, muscular guy comes in for a massage. We assign clients randomly and he got stuck with me, 110 lbs of girl.)

Tough guy: “I requested a male therapist.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, would you like to go back? They’ll give you to the next guy when he’s ready.”

Tough guy: “How long will that take? I’ve been waiting for two hours!”

Me: “I’m sorry, I’m sure it won’t be much longer. We can go back and they’ll put you at the top of the wait list.”

Tough guy: “No! Let’s just do this already.”

(He explains that he likes “very deep pressure” and wants a deep-tissue massage with “lots of elbows”. He tells me to go as deep as I want because, “You’re not going to hurt me.” 30 seconds later, as I’m using my hands…)

Tough guy: “Ow, that’s too hard! Don’t go so deep!”

(I lighten it up a lot and start to run my forearm down his back, and he starts dramatically wincing and squirming all over the table.)

Tough guy: “OWWWW, that’s too hard! You need to go lighter!”

(By the end of the massage, I was just brushing him with my hands, his tolerance was so low. The next week, I got his comment card back.)

Tough guy’s comment card: “You beat the s*** out of me and I’m never coming back here again!”

Related:
Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing

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