Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Freak of the Week - Stinky Stan
I know it's been a while since I've had anyone worthy of FOTW. But I've been sitting on a couple stories for a while as I waited for the whole serious cloud to blow over. Lucky for you guys, I can finally tell them.
Stinky Stan is relatively new, but he's already been in here twice in the last month. In fact, we've had a whole wave of newbies recently, and business has been decent. Anyway, the first time I saw him, we had a normal session with nothing exciting to write about.
Then the other day he comes in and Trina lets me know with a "Get your ass up front cause I'm not going back there." I was like Huh? And she was like "You'll see."
You know how you can tell some people are around before you see them? This was the case of Stinky Stan. I started walking up the hallway when the smell hit me. And it was pure ass. Imagine a really dirty diaper left wide open and sitting right in front of you. That's what this smell was like.
I think I actually staggered when it first hit me. When I regained my composure, I held my breath, waved to Stan, and quickly ushered him into my room. I asked him very kindly to jump into the shower and then get comfy on the table, and I'd be back in 10 minutes. Then SLAM - I closed that door and let out a gagging noise. Trina was already coming down the hallway spraying Lysol.
Some of you guys out there are probably wondering why we didn't just throw him out. On occasion that has happened - usually when it's a repeat offender who REFUSES to hit the shower. Then there are some customers that even the shower isn't enough.
So I figured a quick scrub and 10 minutes for the room to air out would do the trick. And it did. I came back in the room and Stan was up on the table and fresh as a daisy.
I started the session (45 minute G-string) and things are going smoothly. Then it hits me - a whiff of ass. Now if a guy passes gas in the room, it's no big thing and I can tolerate it. But this odor didn't go away. In fact it began to get worse.
I tried to ignore it and just concentrate on the massage, but after a while it just became too much. I stopped the massage so I could light all 3 aromatherapy candles in the room. I didn't say a word either. He knew it. I knew it. The candles knew it. It was BAD.
Stan wasn't one for small talk. And I didn't want to talk because I figured the less I opened my mouth in this cloud the safer I was. My stomach started to ache and I could actually feel a sort of gag in back of my throat. Have you ever noticed when you're sick, that the thought of throwing up just makes you want to throw up even more? Well that's what began to happen here.
And right when I thought I couldn't take any more, I looked up at the clock and... 20 MINUTES LEFT?!?! Holy fuck. I can't... No way... Oh Gawd...I'm gonna...
In a great display of restraint, I casually opened the door and walked out - almost butt naked except for a G-string. I didn't care if my own mom was standing outside that door. I shut gently shut it then jumped into the customer bathroom. I didn't even make it to the toilet - I hurled right into the sink. The cool air in the room felt good, but I still retched and heaved a few more times.
After a few minutes, I calmed down and cleaned up myself and the bathroom. I checked the clock behind the desk. 15 minutes left. Ugh. May as well be infinity.
I realized right then and there that I could not finish this session. Mentally I could not be in the room for even a few minutes. So I took a few deep breaths to calm down (and savor clean air) and I walked back in.
"I'm sorry Stan, but I think I've got food poisoning or somerhing..." Like I'm really gonna tell him the real reason!
Then Stan looks at me with a deep feeling on concern and understanding. A moment passes where our souls seem to communicate without words but through eyes only. He pauses and lets out a slight sigh. Then he says the most profound words I have ever heard in my entire life.
"Oh that stinks."
I told him I really had to end our session early and apologized for not getting to the end part. He was disappointed, but I offered him a double next time and he was cool about that. But it didn't really matter at that point because my brain was already in the back office trying to catch its breath. I don't know if Stan noticed that I didn't even dress up - I just grabbed my clothes off the chair and left the room.
I put my clothes on in the office and begged Trina to see him off. She mumbled a few words to him about how I didn't look good and it was very understanding of him, etc. I would say it took about an hour or so for my stomach to settle back down again.
So next time someone says "that stinks so bad I wanna throw up" picture me standing over a sink wearing only a G-string and actually doing it.