The man punched at his ear and stomped down the hall like a steaming bull. Sabrina’s radar pinged that this session would not be fun. She followed him and pointed him to her room. “I’ll give you a minute to get undressed, okay?”
The grunt she got in return was not reassuring.
Fuck, this is going to be tough. Cicely said no bad reviews, and you need this job. Don’t cuss him, don’t cuss him, don’t cuss him….
Her internal monologue wasn’t convincing either. After waiting a couple of minutes, she took a long, cleansing breath and knocked before entering the small studio.
The smell hit her first. He lay face down on the table, exuding a combination of sweat, sour, and shit. This guy stank like he hadn’t bathed or used deodorant in a while.
You’re kidding me. I gotta work on him? No wonder Stephan handed him over to me.
Sabrina put a hand over her nose. The time she’d worked on Cam directly from the machine shop, he admitted to being smelly, but he wasn’t this bad. He was clean under his sweat, so to speak, and used hygiene products. His scent had been a combination of machine oil, Speed Stick, and man—not unpleasant, at least to her. The man currently on her table was unwashed and sour.
There was a lavender-scented candle in her room on the utility table in the corner. She moved to light it in an attempt to mask the pungent odor, but the guy interrupted her.
“Don’t light that shit. I hate smelly candles.”
I hate smelly jerks!she thought right back at him. Somehow, she managed to nod and smile, but her eyes began to water. Breathing through her mouth wasn’t an option either, as she could almost taste the stink.
“You just gonna stand there, or do I get my gawddamn massage?”
Good Lord in heaven, please get me through this session without losing my job for smackin’ this asshole!
“Are there any places that you want me to work on specifically?”
“My back hurts, and my feet are crampin’ like crazy.”
Oh shit! Do I have to touch his feet?
Sabrina debated the merits of pulling the fire alarm just outside the room door as she strapped an oil dispenser to herhip. She did not want to put her hands on this man. Just the thought was making her gag a bit. “Okay. Let me know if the pressure is too much.”
The man’s fleshy back was covered in red patches of some sort of dermatitis. Rather than risk herself, Sabrina quickly pulled a pair of nitrile medical gloves from a supply drawer. Using gloves was not her favorite, but her choices were to refuse the massage or risk losing her job. The oil she pulled out had antibacterial properties in it, so she reasoned she should be protected enough to complete this odious task.
Once she started, she realized his back was full of crunchy tight spots. The moment she dug into one, he cussed and hollered at her. “That fuckin’ hurts!”
Sabrina gritted her teeth.“I’m sorry. I’ll lighten up the pressure.”
“Moron.” He uttered the word softly, but she still heard it.
Don’t cuss him, don’t cuss him, don’t cuss him….She added more oil to her hands. “Is that any better?”
“Can you just do your job and not talk?”
A flare of anger made her want to jab the guy’s ribs in a painful trigger point, but she reasoned that maybe if she didn’t speak, the smell might get easier to handle.
Not thirty seconds later, he yanked up his arm, nearly knocking her over, and jabbed at his ear. “Yeah?”
Sabrina stopped working on his shoulder as he started yelling.
“What the fuck, Tony? Get your fuckin’ ass over to the shipping department pronto and tell them to get it done.”
Whatever Tony said set the guy off even more. He jerked himself up and planted his elbows on the table as he continued to lose his mind. “What do you mean, there’s not enough time? We got a three o’clock deadline to make! This is your fuckup, pal! What’s your problem?”
Again, it took a moment for Sabrina to figure out he’d switched people and was talking to her now. She pulled the last ice cube of patience from the bottom of her glass. “I don’t have a problem. I’m just waiting for you to conclude your business so I can continue.”
“Look, cupcake, I don’t wanna rain on your parade, but when I pay for a gawddamn massage, I expect to get a gawddamn massage!”
From the wordcupcake, all bets were off. “You want a ‘gawddamn’ massage? I’ll give you the best ‘gawddamn’ massage you’ve ever had. Just do the world a favor and shower the shit stink off your ass first. You smell like you dropped a load and didn’t clean up after.”
