The Other One

I had three massages yesterday.

The first two were with two of the loveliest people I've ever met.

Then there was The Other One.

The Other One arrived 30 minutes late.

By school policy, at that point it is the therapist's prerogative to either reschedule the massage or reduce the amount of time spent in the massage (while still charging the full amount) so you are able to meet your next appointment time.

Since I needed the hours, I chose the second route. Although instead of giving them the 30 minute massage they'd arrived in time for, I very generously stretched it out to 50.

At least I thought I was being generous.

The Other One was not happy.

And he voiced his displeasure in a most unkind way. Like by screaming and swearing at me. And demanding his money back.

I calmly explained that my time is as valuable to me as his is to him- and that I'd waited around for what turned out to be 50 extra minutes just for him. I'd followed the school policy, which was conveniently posted in the waiting room. I also reminded him that of his precious $30, I received not a penny.

The Other One huffed out of the clinic.

I thought it was over.

Wrong again.

The Other One was waiting for me in the parking lot.

He proceeded to further berate me, coming so close I could smell his breath.

All I could think was, "You have a mustache just like Hitler's! And apparently his temperament, too!"

As calmly as I could (because even I can only be nice for so long), I handed him the owner's card and told him if he wanted to complain about the policy, he could contact the owner of the school.

Then I got in my car and drove away, shaking because I was scared and angry.

Because, like it or not, I worked on him for 50 minutes and used my own sheets, lotion, etc. I also waited 30 minutes. He should at least have to pay for that amount of time, right?

And in that case, it's an extra $10, man.