I got to massage my cute plane crash survivor yesterday. He requested a two hour massage with me and we talked the entire time. This is the second time I massaged him and already we’re facebook friends.
Okay, this is nuts. Really nuts! I don’t get crushes on anybody. I especially don’t get crushes on clients – never actually!
I seen his name on my schedule when I showed up for work (an hour late! But I won’t get into that), and I was happy to see him on there. I contained my happiness by bottling it up good and tight because he’s a client just like everyone else. No different.
Why should he be any different, right?
But he IS different. Goddamnit I have a crush. It’s unavoidable. We have so much crap in common it’s ridiculous. Our thought’s are the same.
I greeted him and lead him out of the tranquility room. He followed me down the hall to our little massage room when I asked him, “Last time I massaged you, did I keep calling you Martin?”
Martin (not his real name) – “Ha, no. I think I would’ve remembered that. If I heard you call me Martin, I would’ve corrected you.”
“Oh okay good. For some reason I thought your name was Martin.”
The first time I massaged him, I tried looking him up on facebook and I even googled his name trying to find an article about his plane crash, but forgot his real name and kept googling Martin. I didn’t find anything.
We walked into the massage room and started talking about the movie’s we watched on Netflix. I told him to watch Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead for his “homework” and he did. He even went on Amazon, bought a juicer and started his cleanse.
Martin – “How’s your cleanse doing?”
Me – “Oh, I uh…….I haven’t started it yet.”
Martin – “You haven’t started it?! But you made such a big deal of it!”
He started laughing at me. I felt so guilty – really guilty for not doing it. We went on for a few more minutes talking before I got him undressed and on the table – we were cutting into his two-hours with silly chatter.
I get him on the table and the massage commences.
We both had the same thought’s about settling down. I told him that by the time I’m ready to settle, I’ll marry a divorced guy already equipped with self-sufficient children who will then become my children so I don’t need to go through any labor and all the hard parts will be done.
Martin had a name for this. He called it Instant Family and he already thought of it.
Martin – “I just think that the best time of your life happens when you’re young. So you should enjoy it now while you can. I’m not ready to settle and don’t know when I ever will be.”
Me – “Yes! I feel the same way. When I’m old, I’ll marry into a family so I’ll never be lonely.”
He kept laughing at me. Everything I said sounded adorable – but I didn’t realize this at first. I was just being my normal self, saying my normal everyday jibber-jabber when I couldn’t help noticing he was laughing at almost everything I said. I tried seeing myself from his point of view and listening to myself speak and that’s when I realized how adorable I sounded. I talk this way to everyone – my friends, my parents – everyone. But this is the first time I experienced my own loveable nature. It made me nervous, so I stopped talking so much and played it cool. I mean, I didn’t want him to think I was being adorable on purpose (because I wasn’t).
I felt zen in those two hours. No worries, no pretensions – just two honest and good people enjoying good honest conversation.
Damn crushes. I hate them. No crushes, school! I need focus on school!
I’m planning on going to school after I start up my own business. I can make my own hours, double my income and work less. My business comes first – then I’ll take that god forsaken placement exam.
Martin thought of the name for my new business, Air Touch. I’m going to buy an oxygen bar and strap it up to my clients during their massage. It will have aromatherapy combined with pure mind numbing oxygen. I priced them starting at $2,000.
Air Touch is a perfect name because it will come first in the alphabet and first in the searches!
Anywho, I massaged for five hours and went home. Dave called me up wanting to go out. I wasn’t in the social mood, but was hungry and didn’t see Dave in a while, so we went out.
I wanted to avoid Billy O’s because I didn’t feel like talking to anyone there (plus my brother hates Dave), but that’s where we ended up because Slider’s was packed. It was 7 pm at Billy’s and slowly the normal crew dribbles in.
Dave and I were chatting with this old guy who seemed harmless at first, but then started getting touchy with me. Dave left to go home and I was stuck with this old guy for a few minutes. My bar friends intervened and kept him far away from me for the rest of the night – they even walked me to my car for fear the old guy was going to nab me.
Bar friend – “He smells like shit! He stunk up the whole bathroom – it smells putrid in there and he still wreaks of it!”
The old guy had horrible gas – I mean the worst I ever encountered, and I encountered a lot.
Then the unprecedented happened. I got hit on by the least likely person I knew there.
First off, I just have to clear the air and say that I am NOT pretty – not beautiful – not anything special. I’m average at best and that’s when I’m wearing makeup and dressing like a normal person instead of my usual Hobo look. And I’m not fishing for compliments here so please refrain from commenting on my looks, thanks.
Last night I was tired from work, probably had sauce all over my face from eating several chicken wings – which were delicious btw – I was wearing bulky layers. A big bulky thermal over a t-shirt and then my hefty hoodie I bought in Savannah. The bottom half of me was the sexy part. Skinny jeans tucked into my nearly knee-high black leather boots with my phone and electronic cig shoved inside. Sexy indeed.
I was standing at the bar talking to an old high school friend. A popular girl in my grade that I thought was oh so cool. We got thrown together in the same classes, worked at Stop & Shop together and our brothers are friends, her husband plays pool with me on Tuesdays, so fate keeps us crossing paths.
It was this girls brother who hit on me.
This guy is a family friend. Any of my brother’s long-time friends I refer to as family friends. He has a cocky, arrogant way about him, sort of like he’s a republican politician – you know what I mean? He has blonde hair, sleepy blue bedroom eyes. He’s not a bad looking guy, but I never thought of him like that.
The guy – “That guy you came here with what’s his name, Dave? He was saying some horrible negative stuff about you.”
In all honesty, if Dave was saying anything bad about me, I wouldn’t take it to heart or get upset. If he said anything bad, he would’ve had a really good reason for it and whatever his reason, I would understand.
Me – “Really? Like what?” I said this with a confused smirk. The kind of smirk that say’s I’m above caring.
The guy – “It was just not good. Really negative.”
For some reason, I wasn’t buying it. But then I wondered why someone like him, a family friend, would lie about something like this. It just didn’t make sense to me. As I was thinking this, as though he read my thoughts, he says, “I have no reason to lie to you, I’m just looking out for you. Your brother doesn’t like him and he’s a great judge of people.”
That didn’t help in convincing me.
Me – “Oh, I know. It’s just that he must have had a good reason.”
The guy – “You know, to me – you are like an angel. A pure angel.”
Uh oh. Oh no. Now it made sense. He likes me! But how? Why? How can this be and what the hell do I do about it? Shit. Shit. Shit.
The guy – “I would really like it if you gave me a chance. Let me take you to dinner.”
Me – “Oh wow I had no idea……That’s really nice, I mean, for you to ask.”
He went on and on about how much of an angel I am and that he’s good friends with my brother. I just stood there not knowing what to say. I literally couldn’t think of anything to say to the guy. I need to plan for things like this in advance. The only thing I planned for was what to do with unwanted kisses. If someone tried kissing me I would say to them “it’s not a good idea.” Kisses are easy to flake off, but this is something that would require more than “it’s not a good idea.” I would have to explain why it’s not good.
Me – “You had a lot to drink tonight. Seriously, a lot. Really.”
The guy – “You think that’s what it is? No, no. From the first moment I saw you, I thought you were an angel.”
We talked like this for 10 or 15 minutes. My bar friends, the one’s who were helping to keep the farty old man away, had to turn on one of their own and keep their guy away.
I never asked for their help to keep the stinky old man away, but they were adamant about it. I didn’t see any harm in him, but they remained diligent and told me to stay far from him. Now, almost the same thing was happening with their friend. His sister who was a few feet from us comes over and tells him he has to go. Now.
High school friend – “Come on I started the car. Let’s go.”
The guy ignored her at first, but five minutes later she was back again to get him. I was so thankful. I couldn’t keep up the charade of answering his question by not answering his question.
Me – “Yeah, I’m leaving too. It’s late.”
It was almost two in the morning.
I was hammered at the bar. Dave insisted on two shots, old man bought me another beer – hammered! I drank water for the last two hours I was there and I felt better, just tired as hell. I’m always tired as hell after sobering up.
I drove home relatively safe and slept like a baby for the next ten hours. I woke up at two pm today and went to Sushi Palace with Oriana and her son, then back to her house per her son’s persisting insistence, to watch a movie.
Now I’m laying in bed again feeling like it’s going to be another ten hour sleep for me. I must silence my phone, turn off the lights. Watch one episode of Mushi-shi before sleep in my warm cushy bed. Martin watches Mushi-shi. Martin……goddamnit.
Maybe I’ll get a massage tomorrow. I can get one once a month for free at my job.
My life is so freaking easy. So FUCKING easy! Shit yo, you can hate me. I hate me too. I hate how helpless I’m going to be when I’m older. I feel sorry for my future self.
But I love this. I love laying in bed before I sleep, just knowing that I can sleep for as long as I like – not have to do anything tomorrow if I damned-well don’t feel like it. I LOVE it!
- Have You Ever Had a Massage Go Too Far? (bellasugar.com)
- No massage for you buddy, sorry (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
- Melanie the Misanthropic Massuese (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)
- Give Yourself a Hand . . . Massage, That Is (bellasugar.com)
- Melanie the crappy masseuse (melanieslifeonline.wordpress.com)