Had he broken the law? Fine, I thought, closing my eyes. The flip-over is always tricky, particularly when all that separates you from full exposure is a rag the size of a postcard. But through a mix of dexterity and towel origami, I was able to make the turn relatively smoothly. He then announced that he would move on to my head and neck. I did my best to ignore him, but the questions kept coming.
As a straight male, I somehow assumed-or maybe just hoped-that the receptionist would give me a female masseuse. I have a private, discrete, dedicated studio in a professional office place. I moved to the Great Northwest from the family farm in Virginia about 2 years ago, so I'm kinda rough around the edges. But through a mix of dexterity and towel origami, I was able to make the turn relatively smoothly. My gym only offers male masseurs. Now taking credit cards. Absolutely non-judgemental, I love to listen and probably like giving advice a little too much. A bit of unwanted male attention is the price we pay for being just gay enough. Had I done something to inspire this offer, or was it simply part of the normal package given to all male clients like some perverse form of free underbody rust-coating? I discovered this as I walked into the small, dimly lit massage room, where I met Hans, a tall, well-built fortysomething who looked as if he owned a pair of leather chaps for weekend use. Again, thanks for looking guys! Let's start with Therapeutic Touch and see where we go from there. But then Hans might be fired or disgraced professionally. I was vulnerable, and Hans seemed to sense this. I could complain to the management, demand my money back and, possibly, score some gym-based perks as payment for my trauma free Cliff Bars for life? I'm very good at, and really like what I do. No problem, I thought, trying to keep positive. I was confused, and suddenly not at all relaxed. You can always try at the last minute but the more notice the better, of course I took a long shower and considered my options. Massage therapy, once an indulgence of the country-club set, has become the Starbucks of the bodywork world. Hans, it seemed, was working off the books. Now Hans was working on my front side, so he was able to speak directly to me. I was put more at ease when he moved to my shoulders, safely away from the more vulnerable territories to the south. But even so, I was not prepared to move to this level. That seemed too harsh.
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