Cruisin’ for a Bruisin’

February 28, 2012 § 1 Comment

This is a story about my friend.

No.

Really.

I promise.

We’ll call her Jane.

It happened at the end of a busy day.  She was scheduled with an hour session of really deep work.  She was doing a couples massage with another therapist.   We’ll call him Rob.

The clients were an NFL player and his paramour. They come in.  They get settled.  Jane and Rob begin working.

Jane’s client is a big guy.  Tight muscles. Athlete muscles.  He likes really deep pressure. She’s working the legs.  She’s “sweating (her) ass off trying to dig into his hamstrings” and keeps thinking to herself  “Oh my God.  PLEASE don’t slip off his hamstrings and rack his nut sack!”

(Good news.  She didn’t.)

Now when you’re doing a couples massage, you’re generally pretty focused on your own client.  In your own zone, so to speak.  But you maintain awareness of what’s going on in the room so things don’t get too out of sync or disruptive to the other client and therapist.

So there’s Jane, sweating and digging, worrying about her slipping hands. And Rob undrapes the female client’s leg and bum.

“The look on his face was priceless!”  Rob looked at her, wide eyed.  A deer caught in the headlights.

There they were.

Five hand shaped bruises on her cheek. Deep purple. Couldn’t be missed.

The bruises were so obvious you could tell exactly where the thumbs were.  No question what position the male was playing in that game!

Maybe he was practicing to be Quarterback.

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