Wait now... not the best title for a post. I see what I did there.
No, I don't work at a spa. Nor do I suck like... well.. never mind.
What I meant to say is that I can never truly enjoy myself when at the spa, or getting some type of service done. PROFESSIONAL service. Jeez, mind on track people.
First things first - I am a whiny little bitch when it comes to massaging other people. And by that, I mean if the Hubs asks me to rub his shoulders or get the knot in his back. Like, it takes WORK, people. Then I feel all sore. I get all tense and tired and want a massage in return. In addition to just ALWAYS wanting a massage. SO, when I go somewhere for a massage and I know that is what the person does ALL DAY LONG, I just feel bad. I assume they are probably tired or sore or grossed out by so much skin. And I go in feeling like a selfish prick for wanting them to touch mah blubbers.
So, that's how we begin.
Then, there's the whole awkward silence thing. Remember this? Yeah, that made me anxious. I did, in fact, long for the next distraction.
So while I would wholly and completely enjoy some toddler-free, relaxing silence, I feel like it is socially awkward and rude to just be there, quiet. I don't know how the Hubs does it. He hates talking during things like massages and haircuts. I think he would die if he was subjected to the 3-hour ordeals I call hair appointments, where you're sectioned, foiled, bleached, washed, toned, washed again, conditioned, brushed, cut, dried and styled. A lot of talking has to happen during that. I think he would possibly combust.
So I end up asking questions and talking about stupid shit as a nicety. Feigning interest in things the provider says (sometimes it's interesting, but usually by about 15 minutes in, I just want the whole thing over with).
FUN.
At the half way point, I am inevitably concerned about the tip. No, not a penis, get your mind out of the gutter. About the whole "hey, whether or not this was a good service, you're gonna think I'm a cheap bastard if I don't tip you an appropriate amount" business. I weigh the cost of the service in my mind. If I like the person. If they seem genuine (you know, despite my lack of sincerity). I weigh the pros and cons of generosity vs. setting a precedent if I am going to return to them regularly. I try to remember if I have cash on me (I rarely do), and if this place gives the option to tip on the credit card machine.
I'm usually rigid with anxiety and a deep desire to just go home.
NOT.THE.POINT.OF.PAMPERING, dumbass.
Two weeks ago I had my first foot massage/reflexology appointment in over 10 years. I really wanted to just chill and read a book, but I felt rude. Instead, I was subjected to my provider's opinions on industry in Canada versus China, how Canada has it all wrong, how all jobs are going to the US, and how our childrens' futures are screwed. I was so f_cking stressed out afterwards... and he was getting angry, and he actually hurt my left foot.
Sweet.
And I tipped him too much. For reals. Then I had post-service-too-high-tip-regret.
I so long to be relaxed and not be responsible for anything for 45 minutes, an hour, whatever. And I just end up like a frozen body at the morgue, with more on my mind than when I first came through the door.
I had microdermabrasion done on my face in December. I thought I'd see what it was like. Cliff's notes: f_cking HORRIBLE. I could not wait for it to be over. And I stressed about what to leave for a tip when there was nothing enjoyable about the damn thing.
I need to get drunk first, then do these things so I can actually just calm the f_ck down.
Or be normal. There's that. I hear it's nice?
________
Pin It Now!
No, I don't work at a spa. Nor do I suck like... well.. never mind.
What I meant to say is that I can never truly enjoy myself when at the spa, or getting some type of service done. PROFESSIONAL service. Jeez, mind on track people.
First things first - I am a whiny little bitch when it comes to massaging other people. And by that, I mean if the Hubs asks me to rub his shoulders or get the knot in his back. Like, it takes WORK, people. Then I feel all sore. I get all tense and tired and want a massage in return. In addition to just ALWAYS wanting a massage. SO, when I go somewhere for a massage and I know that is what the person does ALL DAY LONG, I just feel bad. I assume they are probably tired or sore or grossed out by so much skin. And I go in feeling like a selfish prick for wanting them to touch mah blubbers.
So, that's how we begin.
Then, there's the whole awkward silence thing. Remember this? Yeah, that made me anxious. I did, in fact, long for the next distraction.
So while I would wholly and completely enjoy some toddler-free, relaxing silence, I feel like it is socially awkward and rude to just be there, quiet. I don't know how the Hubs does it. He hates talking during things like massages and haircuts. I think he would die if he was subjected to the 3-hour ordeals I call hair appointments, where you're sectioned, foiled, bleached, washed, toned, washed again, conditioned, brushed, cut, dried and styled. A lot of talking has to happen during that. I think he would possibly combust.
So I end up asking questions and talking about stupid shit as a nicety. Feigning interest in things the provider says (sometimes it's interesting, but usually by about 15 minutes in, I just want the whole thing over with).
FUN.
At the half way point, I am inevitably concerned about the tip. No, not a penis, get your mind out of the gutter. About the whole "hey, whether or not this was a good service, you're gonna think I'm a cheap bastard if I don't tip you an appropriate amount" business. I weigh the cost of the service in my mind. If I like the person. If they seem genuine (you know, despite my lack of sincerity). I weigh the pros and cons of generosity vs. setting a precedent if I am going to return to them regularly. I try to remember if I have cash on me (I rarely do), and if this place gives the option to tip on the credit card machine.
I'm usually rigid with anxiety and a deep desire to just go home.
NOT.THE.POINT.OF.PAMPERING, dumbass.
Two weeks ago I had my first foot massage/reflexology appointment in over 10 years. I really wanted to just chill and read a book, but I felt rude. Instead, I was subjected to my provider's opinions on industry in Canada versus China, how Canada has it all wrong, how all jobs are going to the US, and how our childrens' futures are screwed. I was so f_cking stressed out afterwards... and he was getting angry, and he actually hurt my left foot.
Sweet.
And I tipped him too much. For reals. Then I had post-service-too-high-tip-regret.
I so long to be relaxed and not be responsible for anything for 45 minutes, an hour, whatever. And I just end up like a frozen body at the morgue, with more on my mind than when I first came through the door.
I had microdermabrasion done on my face in December. I thought I'd see what it was like. Cliff's notes: f_cking HORRIBLE. I could not wait for it to be over. And I stressed about what to leave for a tip when there was nothing enjoyable about the damn thing.
I need to get drunk first, then do these things so I can actually just calm the f_ck down.
Or be normal. There's that. I hear it's nice?
________
I am not a sensitive new age guy. Just saying. If you don't want to talk during an appointment, say so up front. If it gets mouthy during, there are words. "Excuse me, your massage is so peaceful I'd like to meditate for a little while."
ReplyDeleteWhat is this tipping you speak of? I would never tip my wonderful massage therapist. She is a pro, she charges an hourly rate (get your mind out of the gutter!) that I assume adequately compensates her for her time. In fact, now that I do the math, she charges me almost as much as I charge my clients. I do give her wine at Christmas, though.
@Keith - I seriously don't have the balls to say that up front. ESPECIALLY to the people I've seen before, who know I will talk and talk and talk about anything. I need to grow a pair.
DeleteDo you tip your hairdresser? I tip mine pretty well, and she doesn't even say thanks...
I've never bought wine at Christmas. I am a "clinic whore", and I've tried so many of them out, I have no "regular". I keep hoping I'll relax with the right person, but it's ME that has to change!!!