Crappy Day

I knew I was going to have a bad morning when I was greeted at work with this answering machine message:

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP........This is a message for Audrey. I think I got a rash on my balls. Thank you - you dirty whore. You fucking slut! You make me sick....... BEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

I shoulda stayed home.

Anyways, in case you were wondering, my schedule has been totally turned upside down. That's why I haven't been writing as often as I used to. Since we hired Rose everyone decided it was time to take their vacations and divide up all the remaining shifts. So now I'm on a totally different routine and working shifts that were traditionally Audreys or Trinas.

It totally sucks.

First off, all my Regulars have been thrown off too. Guys have been showing up and Audrey is the first one to try to steal them... "Oh CJ's not here... why don't you let me take care of you?" At least Trina tells them the truth so they can reschedule with me. I've also been going through my phone list and trying to let everyone know my hours have changed. Blah.

Second, I'm now getting all of Audreys customers! Now you're probably thinking that it's only fair that I try to steal her customers. BUT - the difference is that I don't WANT any of her assholes. Remember that Audrey is kinda full-service (Semi-service? Quasi-service? Three Quarters - service?), so half these guys expect to finger me while the other half expect blow jobs. And ALL of them don't expect to pay full price!

So there I was... 2nd customer of the day, and it's one of Audreys Regulars. I had never had him before, so I reluctantly took him in session. Luckily he only wanted 30 minutes. But as soon as I get him in the room, I get this shit...

"Audrey only charges me $50 for a topless."

Fuck. Why do they always start with me? Since he's Audrey's Regular, I'm not supposed to turn him away, but I don't have to take his shit. Since I'm such a caring, giving person, I compromise. "That's fine. But you get a choice, either topless and no happy ending, or happy ending and keep the sweatshirt."

"You can't do that! I paid for that handjob!"

I looked at him calmly. I've heard this argument a hundred times before. "No, you didn't pay for a handjob - that would be prostitution. You paid for a massage. And it's up to me to do the end part, but only if I want to. And you know what? I don't want to." And with that I turned around and walked out of the room.

"I'll tell Audrey about this!" I heard behind me.

If I had a dollar for each time somebody said that to me, I'd be able to retire.

CJ

Massage 101

I got an interesting question the other day about whether I taught any "alternate" options to my new student Rose. By alternate, he meant things like breast releases, facials, etc. Well I usually leave that kinda stuff up to the girl. Either you know how to do "alternate" stuff already, or a helpful customer will be more than willing to teach you.

For example, I didn't know what a "Breast Release" was when I first started until a customer explained that it's the same as titty-fucking. And the good old "Butt Release" I learned from a customer who was more than eager to show me. Facials I knew about from porn movies, as well as two-handed handjobs. In fact, when I first realized there was more to hand jobs than the standard up, down repeat, I went out of my way to learn as many as possible.

Yesterday, Trina and I had a fun talk about the learning curve. "They certainly didn't teach us THAT in massage school!" was our joke of the day. So we came up with this curriculum for the Trina/CJ University for Advanced Erotic Massage Studies (and we thought our 3 semesters of community college were a waste!):

101: Basic Girlfriend Massage
102: Introduction to Hand Release
130: G-Strings Through the Ages

201: Therapeutic Massage
202: Advanced Hand Release
275: Just Say No: A Beginners Guide To Not Having Sex For Money

310: Massage Oils and Powders
311: Interior Design: How Not To Look Like a Brothel
350: How To Read A Clock for Dummies

402: Advanced Release Techniques: Breast, Butt, Thigh and Beyond
493: Accounting

And of course for the more serious students, there's always Erotic Massage Grad School:

501: Roll Playing
513: Introduction to Foot Worship
538: Advanced Lingerie
539: Advanced Lingerie Laboratory: Trip To Fredricks of Hollywood

601: Basics of Ball Busting
635: Psychosexual Ramifications of the Sugar Daddy - Sugar Baby Dynamic
665: How to Plan a 401K for Sex Workers

Of course, the only reason to go to grad school is if you plan on going into teaching. Can you imagine what the textbooks would look like? Old copies of Hustler magazine! LOL

The Trina/CJ University for Advanced Erotic Massage Studies is currently accepting applications. Look for our TV ad on the Lifetime channel immediately after the one for USA Trucking School, and right before the one for "How to Make Money From Home!"

CJ

The Trainee

Hey Guys!

Sorry it's been a while, but things have been busy here. Remember that we're looking for a new sucker... uh, I mean employee? Well, it looks like I may have found someone desperate enough to join us. She's an old friend of mine we'll call Rose. She's a friend of my family and I've known her since I was a kid.

Rose is in her late 30's, slim build, dark brown hair, and that olive colored skin that makes everyone think she's hispanic when she's really italian. She's led a fairly normal life up until now, but I guess she just needed a job. In fact, she was the one who actually asked me if we were hiring!

Now let me explain a little bit about my friends and family. Everyone knows that I'm a masseuse and that I give massages for a living. Family members think I still work in a Day Spa and rub down rich old ladies all day. Most of my friends know I work in a massage parlor, but don't know anything about parlors beyond the rumors and heresay. Rose was no exception.

She kinda had a vague idea of what I did for a living, so I had to question her just to make sure we were on the same page before I did anything to her that would require extensive psychiatric therapy to correct. Apparently she thought that I gave topless massages. I explained to her that she was mostly right, but... "Do you know about the end part?" She looked at me funny so I explained the Happy Ending to her. Luckily her funny expression didn't change any, so I took that as a good sign that she's not scared off yet. As a rule I don't like to explain the intimate details of my job to friends. If they all think I just give topless massages, that's just fine by me.

So I brought Rose along on my next day shift. Now if you guys remember, I had a slightly negative experience at my first day in a massage parlor. Needless to say, I would never do that to a new person, so over the years I've developed my own training routine. I called a Regular of mine, Danny, and asked him if he was interested in breaking in a trainee. He's done it for me before, so I know he's patient.

Danny showed up as scheduled and I demonstrated to Rose how we book in customers. I led him to the room and gave him the whole talk for Rose's benefit. I told him to make himself comfortable and we'd be back in a few minutes. I explained to Rose that this gives the customer time to disrobe while we finish booking him.

A couple minutes later we came back in the room. As I was about to explain our options, I noticed that Rose was already taking her shirt off. "Whoa there! That's next. First you have to ask the customer what option he wants."

"Sorry" she said in mid button.

We went over the options and the pricing. Danny picked a topless. If this were a Double, I would have released The Girls too, but Danny's not a big spender. Besides, I'm wearing my training hat today and my lessons may not be quite as effective when some guys mouth is wrapped around my left nipple. I find professional detachment best in these scenarios.

I've done doubles before, and let me tell ya - they're great. All the money for only half the work. Usually we'll both massage the customer at the same time. Then when it comes time for the happy ending, one person usually does the hand release while the other massages the guys chest or legs. Another variation of the double is where one of us acts as the "fluffer." That's the sweetest deal of all since one person has to do all the massage work while the fluffer just looks cute and teases the guy. I've even had a few doubles at other Businesses where the fluffer actually blew the guy (while I did all the work!). When I get a chance to fluff, I'll usually switch between playing with the guys cock and letting him play with the Girls.

"Now you can take your shirt off." Rose quickly complied. I'd say she was a B cup, but they were still perky considering her age and the 2 kids. Danny didn't complain. The licensed massage therapist in me demonstrated some basic massage techniques first, before I let her try it. I worked my way down his back, then let her take over. Her performance was somewhere between textbook and girlfriend quality.

We kept trading off body parts - the first minute by me, then the next couple of minutes by Rose. Eventually we had him flip, but by then his time was coming to an end. Since we were outta time, I told her how to transition from massage to hand release, including The Speech: "If there are any additional parts of your body you would like massaged, please indicate so by placing her hand there." Dan moved Rose's hand to his crotch.

"All right. Tell the customer to lay back, close his eyes and relax. Put back the massage oil and pick up the blue one with the baby oil."

At this point I went hands-off and turned it over to her. Hey - a handjob is a handjob, and damn if I'm going to share my double-handed criss-cross technique. Rose seemed a little hesitant and even squinted her eyes as she oiled up his dick (she had made the novice mistake of pouring baby oil directly onto his dick instead of applying it to her hand first). "CJ... would you believe I've never given a hand job using oil before?"

Uh yeah - I'd believe it.

Danny finally spoke up. "Hey CJ, how about me seeing your tits?" he asked hopefully.

"First off Danny, they're called breasts and not tits. And second, you're paying for my students services, not mine." He looked back like I hurt his feelings with this, so I said "Oh all right," and playfully pulled my shirt up just enough to reveal my bra. The customer is always right - especially if it'll help him finish quickly.

Rose was applying the standard one-handed jerk and tug. Not imaginative, but it gets the job done. Anyway, after a minute or two Danny gave a courtesy "I'm gonna cum...!" (remember, this is a professional training session). I guess this kinda panicked Rose cause she stopped sort of mid jerk as the semen started to leak out (Danny's a dribbler, not a shooter). I told her to keep going, but much slower until he quiets down. Then I grabbed a towel and told her to clean him up with a bit of water and soap.

I took my cue then to leave the room and let her collect the money. She had earned it. A few minutes later, Rose emerges from the room beaming from ear to ear. "I don't believe I just did that! This is the easiest money I've ever made. CJ, you have it so easy!"

If she only knew.

CJ

Freak of the Week - The EMT

This is not my story, but I just had to tell you anyway. As you know, I try to share the stories of particularly interesting customers. I will confess that ever since I started this blog thing, I try to pay a little bit more attention to what my customers do and say. Well, I hit gold yesterday.

I got a new customer who’s an EMT. And no, he wasn’t on the clock when he stopped by. Anyway, we started talking during session and eventually we started swapping stories of some of our more bizarre work experiences.

Believe it or not, he won.

He started telling me this time he had to respond to a single car accident where the guy was already dead. I guess in these cases, you don’t have to drive quite as fast with the sirens blaring.
So he shows up at the scene and sees where a car had gone off the road and into the trees. He gets out of his ambulance and approaches 2 police officers. Now before he can ask “What happened?” these 2 guys are laughing and stop just long enough to point and say “He’s over there.” Now he’s really confused, but just goes and grabs his gear and starts walking towards the wreck.

As he gets closer to the car, he starts to hear a buzzing noise. At first he thinks it’s odd that the officers would just leave the car running, but then he realizes it’s not a car engine he’s hearing. So he slows down and sort of creeps up to the car as he tries to figure out where the noise is coming from.

But as he gets close enough to see the driver, he forgets about the buzzing noise because something is not right. Now this guy, as an EMT, has seen plenty of dead and mangled bodies. But this one looked different. At first glance, all he saw was a mass of yellow mixed with red. The source of the red was obvious, but the yellow must have been a sweatshirt hood or something because the victim was all in yellow…

… That’s an odd sweatshirt. It’s made of all yellow… feathers? He looked in the front seat and the poor victim was NOT wearing a sweatshirt. He was wearing from head to toe (…drum roll please…) a complete chicken suit. So there he was, some poor guy slumped over his steering wheel (or embedded into it), dressed from head to toe as a chicken.

When he snapped out of his surprise, he once again noticed the buzzing noise. It was coming from the back seat. He moved over to get a better look. According to Mr. EMT, what he saw was an open suitcase. Well, this suitcase wasn’t an ordinary suitcase. Apparently it had been packed full of dildos, most of which were now scattered all over the backseat of the car. Some buzzing and bouncing – some not.

My mouth had hit the floor with this story. When I asked him what his reaction when he saw this, he said (and I shit you not), “Damn – those are pretty good batteries.”

And I thought I worked with weirdos.

CJ

Newbies

Things are picking up again here at work, so we might actually bring in a new girl. Not like we’ve actively looked for one since Rachel left. Things got slow enough during the summer that we were able to manage all the shifts between the 3 of us.

But weird enough, fall is a busy season. Go figure. October tends to be a great month, and it peaks with the Mother of All Massage Weekends – Thanksgiving. I am not shitting you. We usually make more Thanksgiving week than any other single week of the year. I think it’s for 2 reasons. First, you get that heavy holiday travel, and second, everyone’s wallets haven’t been emptied by Christmas shopping yet.

I’ve heard a hundred variations of this story from first time customers over the years…

You get on the road to Grandma’s house for the annual turkey and family fistfight, when you start fantasizing about some stress relief at the hands of an able-bodied masseuse. Then you see that big friendly sign beckoning you to the warmth and comfort of The Business at the next highway exit. You figure you could use a break, maybe get some gas, hit the bathroom. Without thinking, you find yourself making that turn, just to “take a peek.”

You pass the first gas station since it’s always pricier next to the highway. You’re sure the next one is cheaper. Before you know it, you’ve gone a little further than you expected but now that you’ve gone this far you may as well drive by. Then you see our big neon “Open” sign, and it pulls you in like a moth to a flame. Heck – you may as well stop in and check it out. You tell yourself that you can always just walk out if it’s not your thing.

You park the car in the far end of the parking lot, as if you’re going to the insurance agent (the newbies always do). Then you make what we affectionately call the “Walk of Shame.” It’s the path from the far end of the lot to our door in the back of the building that passes by every other business here. As you’re walking, you check your wallet and wonder if it’ll be enough and if we don't take credit cards.

Then before you know it, you’re in front of The Business. At this point you’re probably too nervous to even notice the very tasteful red drapes in the window. Audrey spent a lot to time picking those out. You begin to wonder, what the heck am I doing here? Is this really one of THOSE places? How does this even work? Am I supposed to… BEEEEEEEP… BEEEEEEEP.

“Uh, hello Nana!... Yes, I’m on the road… No, I just stopped to get gas… No, I’m running about – ummmm - an hour late I’d say… Yes, I’ll pick up some cranberry sauce… Is Betty there yet?... No, I’ll call her later… Yes, I’ll drive carefully…Buh-bye.”

Now your heart is pounding. You just bought yourself an hour, so you might as well try it. Just by looking through the door, you can’t see behind the desk – damn! You turn your cell phone off before you push the door open and walk in. The place smells faintly of flowers, thanks to an aromatherapy candle on the coffee table. You look around and realize it’s a lot cleaner and more pleasant than you thought it would be.

“Hello Sir, can I help you?”

You turn around and you see a very pretty blonde girl sitting behind a desk. She’s wearing a form-fitting white polo shirt with a beaded necklace. Her dirty blonde hair has that sort of Just-Rolled-Out-Of-Bed look that you can only get with lots of vitamins and an incredibly over-priced stylist. She smiles at you in such a way that reminds you of your last girlfriend’s super-hot sister.

“Uh, yes please. I think I’d like a massage.” And so begins the high point of your Thanksgiving Day weekend.

And if you come back a 2nd time, we’ll tell you how to park behind the building.

CJ

Why I'm Here

I only really discovered the internet about 2 years ago. My last Sugar Daddy got me a laptop computer for Christmas, and I had no idea what to do with it. So it kinda sat there for a while, untouched, until I got an iPod. Then I went crazy. Once I figured out how to use it for music, I started to finally play around on the internet.

At first I started to look for anything regarding myself . That’s when I first saw a “review” of the Business in one of those adult chat rooms about massage parlors. Let me tell ya, when I first saw my name on that screen I freaked! There it was for the whole world to see – a description of some guys session with me. Thank Gawd he didn’t know my full name or I probably would have had a heart attack.

After I had calmed down a little bit, I realized that he didn’t say anything particularly bad. It was just a quick description of where we were and how much we charged. All he said about me was that I was “cool”, had “fabulous” breasts, and I wasn’t full service.

But this got me thinking… What if he had written something bad? What if he had lied and said we were full-service? What if he were a stalker and started posting all sorts of personal stuff about me and my co-workers? This type of thinking only made me panic all over again. I tried to figure out how I could erase this stuff and realized I couldn’t.

Now Trina and I have always said that one of the most frustrating things about our job is that the only people you can talk to about work are co-workers. Anytime you want to bitch about a customer, or tell a funny story – you can’t. It’s 8 hours of my day that I can’t just share with anyone whenever I feel like it. Shit, even if you’re a rocket scientist you can still bitch about work to a stranger – they may not understand a word of it, but at least you can do it.

We can’t do that unless it’s to each other! Can you imagine what that feels like? So Trina and I used to talk about how great it would be if we could tell some of these wacky stories of ours to anyone without being judged. Then one day when I was swapping stories with a customer, he said I should talk about these in a “blog.” I said what the hell is that, and he said that people write all sorts of shit on the internet and they’re called blogs.

Well, I told my techno-nerd Velma to go get me a “Blog.” Then last December Velma set me up here on this site and told me to go to town. And the rest is history.

At first I didn’t know what to write about, so I just talked about my day. Heck – I only had 2 other people to impress. Then I thought it might be interesting to talk about not just what I do, but how things work in a Business. And then there was Trina to remind me of some of the really whacked customers we’ve had in the past. And lastly, I wanted to remember my time with Cindy back when business was wild and life was crazy.

And that was it. I just started to have a fun time talking about all this stuff (in some cases, for the first time in years). And I liked getting positive comments from people out there who seemed to enjoy it. Then I started reading other peoples blogs, and in some cases some fellow masseuses with similar stories. And let me tell ya, it felt kinda good to be able to throw some stuff out there and get some feedback from people who are not in the Business.

Then I read some stuff that really began to piss me off.

So here I am, just doing my thing when I discover that I’m labeled as a “sex blog.” You mean I’m actually lumped in together with guys who write to Penthouse Forum? Let me tell you something – I find it hard enough to use the term “sex worker” – now I’m just a sex blogger?

Then to make things worse, I read somebody saying that sex blogs are “…all the same…” which really really really hurt my feelings. What the fuck??? At first, I was this sort of society outcast that had to keep half my life secret from the other half. Then when I finally decide to speak up for myself and say “Hey – these things really happened to me” some stupid fuck labels me and says I’m the same as everybody else who “confesses” anything.

Well ya know what? Fuck you. Until you’ve jerked off 30 guys in 1 day, or been thrown against a wall by a 300 pound customer, or had $1,000 taken from your purse by a coworker, or been told by your boss to suck his cock to keep your job, you really aren’t in a position to say I’m the same as anybody else. In fact, you really aren’t in a position to judge anything about me.

Now talking about this is really hard for me since I’ve said before that I don’t like getting personal on this thing. So if no one minds, I’d like to get back to the fun stuff that I like talking about.

Enough said.

CJ

Retirement

I don’t know about you guys, but one of the blogs I like to read (other than my Girl Slutty McWhore) is Confessions of a College Callgirl. Try it – what she did I can only dream of doing. But if you’re not an avid reader of hers, she just announced that she wants to retire her blog. She said that after a certain point there’s only so much you can write about sex and hooking.

Well I support her decision to give it up, but at the same time it makes me think that if she finally got burnt out, well what about me? After reading her touching farewell, I realized that I couldn’t just go home after another grueling day at work and tell a goofy story about some perv who wanted to be spanked with a pool cue while I call him “daddy.” It all felt just kinda meaningless after reading that.

Not that I won’t tell that story later. It’s just that I spent some time thinking about what I’m doing with my life and where this entire mess is actually going. Yes, I’d like to move on to some line of work that’s a little bit more meaningful (and clothed). Maybe find some guy who’s relatively normal who doesn’t mind a girl with limited career potential, and settle down. And like College Callgirl, I’d like to eventually walk away from all these stories and at least be able to say that it really happened, people believed me, and maybe someone learned a few things and had a laugh along the way.

But in the meanwhile I guess I’ll just keep chugging (or jerking?) along. I have to admit that I don’t fully understand what it’s like to be a hooker. I know that most people tend to lump us all together – escorts, streetwalkers, erotic masseuses, strippers, etc. – under the label of “Sex Worker.” But I can’t seem to relate to the burnout that hookers tend to go through. And that is probably a really really really good thing.

I know that I’m an erotic masseuse. I jerk guys off for a living, 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I don’t have any problems admitting that. And I really don’t feel like any less of a person for doing it. I mean – someone’s gotta do it, right? And if not me, then it would probably be some drug addicted skank who doesn’t give a fuck about how your day at work went and just wants you to cum quickly so she can spend that $50 on her next fix. At least I know most of my customers on a personal level, and I know how to make their day a little brighter.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that even though College Callgirl may be gone, I’m still here. And I think I’m OK with that.

CJ

The Final Word on Andy

Since I started writing down all my weird stories, I have yet to figure out what you guys think. Take Andy for example… I never would have thought that his story would be so controversial. I mean I’ve told you guys stories about hookers and drug addicts and throwing bodies in dumpsters, but people had really strong opinions on what happened to Andy. The best I can figure is that the guys out there are relating to Andy as a fellow customer. Am I getting warm?

Anyway, Andy finally came back this week. I apologized to him once again and said I felt kinda like a jerk for ignoring him last time. He laughed and said it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Now I wasn’t sure if he was just being kind or whatever, and under different circumstances I would have just dropped it right there.

BUT

Since there has been so much interest in this topic, I decided to get to the bottom of this once and for all. I confessed to Andy that afterwards I felt guilty and wanted to find out if what I had done truly insulted him – so I told a few people what had happened (or maybe a few thousand on the internet, but who’s counting?). The opinions I got back were:

1) I was an asshole for treating a customer that way
2) Andy was a perv who obviously found the whole thing kinky
3) A combination of the 2.

Well, Andy had a good laugh at that. And he felt a little embarrassed that his incident got shared with a few people (Oh Gawd – if he only knew). Then he said for the record (and I quote), “To tell you the truth, I think it was a little of both. At first I thought you were being a little selfish when you wouldn’t put your phone down, but only because I look forward to catching up with you and your stories during the massage.”

“But then I started to pay attention to what you were saying on the phone, and I could kind of hear your sister on the other end. Well then I just closed my eyes and relaxed, and after a while I started to feel like a peeping Tom. And I have to admit – it felt kind of dirty but exciting at the same time. Does that make any sense?”

I nodded, but I didn’t want to explain that it took an anonymous reader on the internet to explain it to me.

Andy continued, “So by the time you began to jerk me off, I was already feeling like I was spying on two sisters have a private conversation. And I think it was the whole taboo feeling of it that I pretty much had no trouble cumming.”

There you have it guys – right from the horses mouth. And I tried to quote him as best I could remember. So I guess I can stop feeling guilty about that whole incident and get on with my life.

In fact, it kinda sounds like I may have found a new “option” I could charge for. So whadya think?

1) $50 for calling sister.
2) $60 for calling “boyfriend”
3) $70 for calling mom
4) $100 for calling your wife and pretending to be an “old friend”

CJ

Freak of the Week – The Porn Hound

I’ve been dying to tell ya about this guy for a week now. Remember when Sugar Daddy Pete showed up and turned my morals upside down? Well the latest Freak of the Week came in early that same day.

He was a normal looking guy… about 35, stringy hair, but dressed nicely. I’m sitting out front when he comes in and plops a giant stack of papers on the desk. My first thought was that he was selling something, so I was a little surprised when he said he wanted a session. Since he’s not selling anything, I ask what the papers are for. He says he has a ton of paperwork to do for work. But before I can ask if he plans on doing it in the middle of his massage, the front door opens again…

In walks a father and son.

My heart skipped a beat! Remember that previous Freak of the week that wanted to bring his kid in????? Well, I think I went pale when these 2 just walked in. I’m scared stiff that he’s the other freak, but luckily there’s another guy here in case he starts trouble. I stammered, “… uh… can I help you?”

Very gruffly he says, “Do you know if the mechanic is open?”

Now I’m feeling confused and relieved at the same time. “Huh?”

“The auto place across the street! Is he open or not?”

Since he’s NOT the father/son freak I’m no longer afraid, but just irritated. Jerks I know how to deal with. So I tell him I don’t work there, so I don’t know. But since I’m such a loving, giving, people person, I add that there’s another place down the road.

Whew!!!!! Now with him gone, I turn my attention back to the new guy. I’m asking him how long a session he wants when I notice the stack of papers again… only they’re not papers…they’re magazines. DIRTY magazines!!!

It took a deep breath and just said, “First room on the left. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears into the room with the stack of porn.

Another day, another dollar I sigh to myself.

A few minutes later, I go in. He’s laying nude on his stomach and propped up on his elbows – reading one of his magazines. The rest are sitting in a neat stack on the corner of the table by his head. I tell him about our options and he asks for a G-string. I strip down, but he still can’t be bothered to put down the porn. So you know what I did?

Nothing. I just pretended everything was perfectly normal. Nothing to see here folks! I grabbed a bottle of oil from the warmer, lubed up my hands and started working on his shoulders. He stayed up on his elbows like a kid glued to a comic book. That position actually made my job a little bit easier since I had easy access to his shoulders. We chatted briefly about the weather as I worked down to his legs.

When I finish his calves I told him to flip (I don’t do feet). He rolled over and then tucked the pillow behind his back so he could sit up. He twisted slightly towards me – but not to gaze in admiration at the Girls. Oh no! Instead, he opens up a new magazine on the table next to him so he can keep reading.

At this point, he stops the chit-chat, so I just start working his lower legs in silence. Then I notice that he’s now working his dick with the right hand, while turning pages with the left. Since he’s not even looking at me or talking, I figure he’s ready for his own version of the happy ending. So instead of continuing the massage, I start lightly caressing his upper thighs… kinda trying to stay in synch with each jerk of his hand. I did this for a few minutes until he finally came all over his stomach.

I offered to clean him up, but he said to just hand him a towel and he’ll take care of it himself. So while we’re both cleaning ourselves up, I ask him what’s up with the magazines. He says that he’s been addicted to porn for several years now and can’t get off without its help. I said “you do realize I was gonna take care of that for you?” He said he did, and thanked me anyway.

Apparently he’s gotten to the point where he prefers to get himself off. When I asked him about how this affects his sex life, he said the porn consumes everything to the point where he no longer has one. It’s been years since he’s actually dated anyone, and in the meanwhile he just became more and more obsessed and dependent upon porn. I actually suggested he try a hooker to try to wean him off (no pun intended), but he said he was too afraid of diseases to go that route. Based on the hookers I know, I can’t blame him!

I felt pretty sorry for the guy after talking to him. When he asked me how much he owed, I knocked $20 off the tip and told him to let me take care of things next time. He confessed that he originally had second thoughts about coming in, but now thanked me for being patient and making him feel comfortable.

“Don’t thank me sir. It’s my job.”

CJ

Quick Update

With all the weirdness going on this week, I thought I'd just catch you guys up quickly on whats going on around here.


Remember the new girl we hired, Rachel? Well, it looks like she's history. Audrey would fire her personally, if she ever bothered to show up to work anymore. Oh well, back to interviewing again. Please feel free to send those resumes to:


Audrey
c/o The Business


Please include a short paragraph on why you hate yourself enough to work here, and a list of all the non-prescription drugs you are addicted to.


The other big thing going on in my life is that my boy-toy (Brad Pitt Clone) is no longer speaking to me. Apparently I kinda blabbed to him (while drunk) about how I have a profile on Match.com. This did not go over well (go figure). But the good news is that I think I have an internet blind date Saturday night. Keep your fingers crossed that he's not too weird.

And I ALMOST forgot... I finally heard from Andy!!! Remember him??? Anyway, he called and we patched things up. I promised to make it up to him and we're all cool now. He's coming in next week, so I'll probably give him a free double happy ending. With my luck, I'll probably be on the phone with my mom during Andy's massage this time. How kinky would that be? LOL


CJ

Winner of the slogan Contest!

The results are in! After taking a vote between myself, Trina and Velma - we agree that our favorite T-shirt slogan is:

"HappyEndingz: Big Tugz and Big Jugz" courtesy of Villageidiot.

The runners up were:

2nd place - Up. Down. Repeat as Necessary

3rd place - Making the World a Happier Place, One Dick at a Time!

Both courtesy of Jack. If this blog thing ever becomes famous, I promise to give you guys your own custom T-shirts. Velma came up with the picture of the winning T-shirt. Looks good, doesn't it? LOL

Thanks to everyone for your funny ideas.

The Return of Sugar Daddy Pete

Sorry I haven’t been around lately, but I’ve had a really weird and busy week. Remember Sugar Daddy Pete? He was last here 3 months ago, but he actually called and made an appointment with me on Monday. Heck – I almost forgot who he was when he called!

I had pretty much written him off, but let me tell ya – that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach from coming back. I don’t know what it is about him that just makes me so nervous. I mean, I’ve had rich customers before, so I don’t think it’s the money thing. And it’s not like he’s a dead ringer for George Clooney, so that ain’t it either. I don’t know, but when I figure it out I’ll tell ya.

So anyways, I booked him as my last customer of the day. And luckily I was working by myself so I didn’t have to worry about Audrey or the clock. In a way I was thankful because I had only made $80 that afternoon with 1 bizarre customer (but he MORE than made it up to me as my next “Freak of the Week” – I’ll tell ya later…). As the appointment approached, I actually booted out 2 walk-ins. Sorry guys, but I didn’t want to take the chance of being busy when Pete arrived. Rule #6 – Never let Customers see each other.

Pete ended up arriving a little late, but whatever. He gave me a hug, which was weird considering he’s not even a Regular yet. We chatted a bit while still standing out front. I learned that his nearby vacation house is almost done. His summer was busy with work. And his family is still driving him crazy. Same old shit basically. But, he added that the vacation house will give him lots of excuses to pass by in the coming months. I’ve heard that one before, so I pretended to be excited. So then he booked an hour, and I took him into session.

Now here’s the weird part. When we got in the room, I just started taking my clothes off. I didn’t even bother to ask him what option he wanted. I NEVER do that with a new customer – even a potential Sugar Daddy. It’s like I’m just assuming he’s in, or (even worse) I’ve become desperate enough to do anything to hook him. I know that taking my clothes off in front of a customer is what I do all day, but to me this lapse of judgment is a big deal.

I swear my brain was out the window. Luckily he didn’t even notice my lack of erotic massage etiquette, and just joined me in nakedness. Apart from my little breach of protocol, there was nothing unusual about the massage. But then, right when I finished with the hand release and he was just lying there moaning, I began to have this mini-panic attack! All I could think of was “Now what? Do I just see him out? Should I try to get a phone number?”

I think he noticed something weird in my expression and finally said “I’m sorry… am I keeping you late? I better take off.”

Shit! Am I blowing this? I was still having my mini-attack, so I just told him everything’s cool and he can just relax and let me clean him up. I toweled him off, but instead of throwing my clothes back on, I actually jumped up on the table and sat down next to him – nude. I looked him in the eye, smiled and asked “So when am I gonna see ya again?”

I don’t know if he thought I was propositioning him or just being friendly or what because he gave me a great big shit-eating grin. Fuck – at this point I wasn’t even sure what I was doing anymore. Then he says (and I quote), “I don’t know…maybe you’d like to see the new house?”

Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? Is he propositioning me or does he think I’m just a big fan of architecture? I don’t know! Suddenly I became painfully aware that we were two naked adults lying on a table in a dark room, after business hours and off the clock. I didn’t answer him, but just hopped off the table and started getting dressed. “Yeah, that would be fun… call me” was all I finally said. I couldn’t even look at him!

I swear to gawd – I never act this flaky with a customer. To him I must have looked like a schoolgirl with a crush, or a poorly trained prostitute.

Well anyway, he still left me a handsome tip. Then I gave him my phone number, and I noticed that he actually saved it on his cell. That’s a good sign, right? He promised to call me the next time he was going to see the house, and that he’d plan something “fun” for us. After he left, the only thing I could think of was what the fuck have I gotten myself into?

CJ

Slogan Contest!

Announcing the HappyEndingz first annual T-shirt slogan contest!

You guys gave me a few good ideas recently for some slogans for this blog thing of mine. Trina and I had a good laugh thinking up a few more, but let's see what you guys can come up with. Here's a few ideas to get you started...


I went to HappyEndingz and all I got was this lousy T-shirt

With T-shirt you get Happy Ending

HappyEndingz: Where Every Story Has A Happy Ending!

Wee-Tug-Yu: Asian Massage Parlor

HappyEndingz Massage - Satisfaction Guaranteed!

9 Brothers Pizza

Across the street is a place we call “9 Brothers Pizza.” We call it that since every guy who works there is related somehow. It’s real convenient for lunch, and the food is decent. But the problem with going there is that most of the girls give us an attitude whenever we come in.

Everyone there recognizes us and knows we work at The Business. It’s funny, when we eat there all the brothers will eventually flock to our table and chat. Most of the girls who work there just give us dirty looks from across the room. Luckily, some of the waitresses are friendly enough so that we can actually have a peaceful lunch every now and then.

I know what you’re all wondering and the answer is "No" – none of the brothers have ever been a customer. In fact, if any of them came in we’d probably offer them therapeutics only since it’s never good business to advertise TOO close to home. No, I think they’re all just too nervous to try our services.

Now the head cook I actually remember from high school. It’s almost impossible to have a meal over there without him wanting to come over and gossip about fellow classmates – and I am not one to shy away from gossip! I think he enjoys catching up on news, but I also think he enjoys making the other brothers jealous of the attention.

The women there are a whole different story.

I’m not sure exactly how many of them are “sisters.” What I do know is that some of those bitches have been downright rude to us, and on a few occasions wouldn't even seat us! There was this one time when a waitress absolutely refused to come to our table to take our order. I know that bitch was just hoping we’d take the hint and just leave, but I got up and called over my high school buddy from the kitchen. Then I proceeded to tear that bitch a new asshole in front of a room full of diners.

Now let me tell ya – that did the trick! Since then, whenever we come in they usually seat us in the corner of the smoking section (yes we all smoke – shoot us). That way we can have our own non-bitchy waitress, and all the brothers can pay their respects without causing a distraction to the other customers. Personally, I think the real reason they stick us in a corner is so we don’t distract any of the husbands/boyfriends in the main dining area (did ya ever see a husband get caught by his wife gawking at other women? It ain’t pretty, but it makes for a great fight in the parking lot afterwards).

It’s funny – when you work for tips, you usually tend to tip others more generously. Heck, I even tip the guy who pumps my gas (I always use the “full-service” pumps at the gas station. Isn't that ironic?). So we ALWAYS leave a sweet tip for our waitress – partly because she takes care of us, but mostly to piss off the rest of those bitches.

Now whenever we’re in the mood for a decent cheesesteak – we have to hit the diner out by the freeway. None of the people who work there know who we are, but we can always count on a familiar trucker or two to say “Hi!”

CJ

Freak of the Week - Father and Son

Did everyone have a good Labor Day weekend? I had to work on Sunday, but luckily the Business was closed Monday. We had a BBQ at my mom’s house and guess who was there? – my sister and her boyfriend. I still think she made a mistake by taking him back, but I was at least civil to him.

Today was busy for once. Business always picks up after the kids go back to school, and the dads have more time to themselves. And this brings me to the new Freak of the Week.

This one really got to me. I was working the desk this morning when I got a call from a customer wanting to make an appointment. He asked what kind of massage we provide and I told him “relaxing.”

He says he’s had all types of massages and drops a few hints that he’s interested in our kind of business. So I talk turkey with him, “Tipping starts at $80 for a relaxing massage. So would you like to make an appointment?”

“Yeah, you sound kinda sweet. I’d like to come in around 4.” I jot it down in the book. “Oh, and one more thing, can I make an appointment for my son too?”

Hmmmm… close family. Oh well, I’ve heard stranger.

This guy didn’t sound that old at all, so I figured his “kid” must be high school or college age. “Sure. If he’s under 21 I can schedule a therapeutic massage for him.” Our Carved-In-Rock policy here at the Business is absolutely NO erotic massages for anyone under 21. We’ll do therapeutics for under 21 (and I’ve done more than my share of college freshmen! – and believe me, they are so cute when they think they’re getting something naughty and it’s only a therapeutic).

“Oh no…” he says. “I want my son to have an erotic massage.”

I winced at that. First off, we don’t like to use terms like “erotic massage” on the phone. Second, we make the rules – not you. So I try to steer the course of this conversation away from the taboo terms. “Sir, we don’t do that here. We do ‘full-body massage.’ And if your son is under 21, I will gladly schedule him for a therapeutic massage instead.”

“Come on honey. “ I winced again (I HATE being called HONEY). “My son is going to have his first full body massage when I say so. And I think it’s time for him to know what a real woman feels like before he has sex.”

HUH? WHAAA?? Did he just say “sex? Did he just say “before?”

“Uh, excuse me. But how old is your son?”

“He’s 10.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted to say, “I’m very sorry sir, but unfortunately it is against our policy to offer adult oriented services to persons under the age of 21.” However, all that came out of my mouth was a sort of high-pitched squeak.

Apparently he didn’t properly interpret my squeak and kept trying to get his kid in. “Look, I’m willing to pay full price for him. And I swear I won’t tell your boss - just let us come in.”

When my verbal faculties came back to me, the best response I could manage was, “Are you fucking kidding me?????!!!!”

“No I’m not fucking kidding. What - you think you’re too good to take care of my son?” This guy must REALLY love his kid – in all the wrong ways. Well, you know what they say… If you can’t keep it in your pants, keep it in the family.

I finally just told him there’s no way in Hell he’s welcome in here, and he finally hung up. That freaked me out enough that I had to go outside and have a cigarette. I blame my smoking habit on people like him.

I guess Junior won’t be going back to 6th grade this year as a man. Oh well.

CJ

Freak of the Week - The Dead Guy

I had this 1 customer today who’ll probably never come back. But it’s not my fault this time – I swear. I think he’s gone out of shear embarrassment. Let me explain…

I got this really old guy today, looked like he was in his 70’s. I usually don’t mind the older guys since they tend to be really sweet and chatty. What I can’t stand are the proverbial “Dirty Old Men.” Let me tell ya – there’s nothing cute about an old wrinkly guy calling you a “whore” and trying to pinch and grab your ass all session. Don’t even let me get started!

Luckily this guy was one of the nice ones. Now it was during the hand release that he leans his head way back and opens his mouth wide as he’s moaning. Just at that exact moment, he shoots a single load of jizz that flies straight up – and then down into his open mouth. Suddenly he stops enjoying his orgasm and starts gagging! I let go of his penis and helped him sit up. He kept coughing and wheezing for like 5 minutes! I didn’t know what to do so I just sort of patted him on the back. I don’t think the Heimlich maneuver applies to semen.

Anyways, after what seemed like forever he eventually settled down and started breathing regularly. I asked him what his obituary should say if he dies choking on semen in a massage parlor. He laughed and said at least it was his own semen and not someone else’s.

Now I told you that story to tell you this one. This guy is not this weeks “Freak of the Week.” But he reminded me of one of my first customers from the good old days. Before you read on, just remember that I was young and naïve back in those days. Not the hard, callous bitch you know me as now!

This story occurred during my first year in the Business. Gus (as we’ll call him) was one of my first old guys, so I still didn’t know what to expect. Anyways, we had a relatively normal session, but when Gus was right in the middle of his happy ending, he starts choking. And I mean a real bad choke – like a seizure. His body went totally stiff and then he stops breathing. His face turned beet red and his eyes squeezed shut. Then after about 10 seconds frozen like this, he totally collapsed on my table!

So there I was – a very young high school graduate, standing there naked in a dark room in front of an old, lifeless body. I poked him a few times, “Hey Gus, you all right?” Nothing. I shook him good, “Hello! Wake up!” Still nothing. Picked up his arm and it fell like a brick.

Shit! He’s dead!!!! Fuck!!! Shit!!! Holy shit!!!! Fuck fuck fuck!!!

To say I panicked is an understatement. They never covered dead people in massage school! So I did what any trained and licensed professional would do. I decided to dispose of the evidence. I cleaned him up as best I could with a towel. Then I started putting his clothes back on. Have you ever tried dressing someone who was passed out? It’s like that, only 10 times worse since you have to deal with the fact that you’re touching a dead guy.

I threw my own clothes back on, then I opened the door and yelled for my coworker – Summer. She was a seasoned veteran and one of the first friends I made in this business, so I knew I could trust her to know what to do. Summer came running over and took 1 look at Gus.

“Why is he wearing his clothes?”

“Uh… Because he’s dead?”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

So after we both had a good scream, I consulted with my colleague over what we should do with our former customer. As an expert in her chosen profession, Summer knew exactly what to do in this situation.

“We have to get him in the dumpster.”

I concurred and added that the Business would be closing early that night. So here we were – two 110 pound girls trying to figure out how to get this poorly dressed 200 pound dead guy off the table and moved 200 feet across a crowded parking lot and into the dumpster. She wanted nothing to do with touching a dead guy, so we decided to first wrap him in the table sheet. That way we don’t have to touch or even look at him.

We cocoon poor Gus in the white sheet he passed away on. To get him down, we each took an end of the sheet and started pulling with all our might to edge him off the table. Summer was stronger than me, so she managed to lower him off the table head first. I had trouble with my end so his legs were kinda still hanging off the table edge while his head was on the floor. This was the position in which Gus decided to wake up.

He gave a very load croaking sound, like he was snoring and choking at the same time. Needless to say, both Summer and I jumped out of our skins. Summer dropped his head on the ground and I let go of his feet. Gus kinda collapsed in a heap on the floor. He opened his eyes and looked at us, then down at his rumpled clothes and the bed sheet wrapped around him.

“What the hell…?” He looked at Summer, “Who are you? And why am I on the floor? And what’s this sheet?”

Gus had narcolepsy. Turns out this isn’t the first time he’s passed out and woken up in a weird way. So Summer and I told him the whole Gawd’s honest truth about how we decided (for his own personal safety) to dress him and lower him from the table to better accommodate someone in his delicate condition. Luckily for us, he seemed to buy that story, and we all ended up having a good laugh about it later – especially Summer since she promised Gus I’d give him a free session.

CJ

Audrey is a lying, stealing, motherfucking bitch

You wanna know how much money I’ve made over the last 2 shifts? Exactly $23. Wanna know how you earn $23 in 2 shifts? I had 3 therapeutic massages, and only 1 of those cheap fuckers bothered to tip me, and he gave me (out of guilt) everything left in his wallet - $23.

Why am I getting screwed? Because that cunt Audrey has been hogging the front desk for the last 2 days, and she just conveniently schedules paying customers for herself and non-tipping therapeutics for me. Look – I know I gotta do the therapeutics just like everyone else, but she’s purposely been sticking me with them. How do I know? Because those 2 non-tipping shits told me they had requested Audrey, but she was too “busy.” THAT BITCH!

Hey – I gotta fill my gas tank just like everyone else. I also have to pay for my food and cell phone and cable and electricity. $23 dollars doesn’t even cover my lunch and gas for 2 days. Fuck I’m mad!!!!!!

And while I had 3 therapeutics in 2 shifts, you wanna guess how many PAYING customers Audrey had? EIGHT (8). When that dumb bitch saw how angry I was getting after watching her book customers for 2 straight days, all she had to say was “Sorry, they were all appointments.” Yeah – appointments to finger you, you dirty skank. Or are you blowing them now? I wouldn’t doubt it. Gawd I hate this place.

Trina feels the same way. Apparently Audrey has been pulling the same shit with her all week. We need to quit this place and start our own business. But then again, I don’t know if I can trust Trina either. I think she’s just 1 late rent payment away from offering blowjobs in session.
Who knows – at this rate maybe I’m not that far behind her either!

And to make things worse, I had to throw out 2 customers today. The first was some cheap ass piece of shit from Philly who actually argued with me about how he thinks everything should be included in the door price – namely the options and happy ending. Sorry buddy, but your $40 only gets you a Crack-Ho around here. Now what really set me off was the next guy who waited till he was already in the room to let me know that he only had $20 to tip, but he wanted a topless with hand release. Now I’ve had this type of asshole plenty of times – the guy who knowingly gets in the room with little money, and hopes you’ll bargain with him. Normally it doesn’t set me off, but after the week I’ve had, this guy said the absolutely wrong thing to me – “But Audrey does it all the time…”

I was actually looking forward to coming in today since it was just gonna be me and Trina. But that was it - I went ballistic on his ass. I started yelling at the guy, “I don’t care what you do with that bitch! You’ve been here before, so don’t you even pretend you don’t know what the prices are. If Audrey wants to jerk your sorry ass off for $20, that’s fine. But ya know what - ya get what you pay for. And her shit may be worth only $20, but mine ain’t!”

And with that I opened the door to the room and stood there looking at him. I don’t think he was expecting his session to go this way because he just left without looking me in the eye. He may end up telling Audrey that I was rude to him, but at this point I don’t really care anymore. She can have as many customers like this that she wants.

CJ

p.s. It's nice having a place to vent.

p.p.s. Since I originally wrote this, I had a customer confess that she blew him for $100. Gawd I hate her so much!!!!!

Apology to Andy

Hey guys...

I've really been feeling guilty about the whole Andy thing. To make it worse, I didn't even bother to talk to him after the session, so I haven't had a chance to say "sorry." When I finally went back to the room for my clothes, he had left the tip on the table and let himself out. We NEVER do that to customers, so I really was a jerk that day.

What I'll probably do is offer him a free upgrade in options next time or maybe a "double." A double is where I give a happy ending at the beginning AND end of the session. 45 minutes is more than enough time for a guy to recuperate. Hopefully that'll smooth things over.

Andy... if you're out there somewhere reading this, I'm truly sorry! Come back and I'll make it up to you!

Boy - what a weird week. I deserve whatever happens to me right now.

CJ


p.s. On a side note, I don't think I'd be comfortable telling ANY of my customers about this blog thing. Can you imagine what their reactions would be????? All their sorded details for the entire internet to see... I think my clientele would suddenly turn into all boring therapeutics, and then where would we be? You'd all be bored and I'd be broke.

So just be thankful that I'm a gossip. LOL

CJ

My Worst Massage Ever

I have to tell you guys about what happened during session yesterday. I swear, it was probably the worst massage I’ve ever given. I am totally embarrassed to admit it, but I will confess and take full responsibility. I have no excuses. But let me first say that if there are any future customers reading this, I promise I would never ever do this to you.

So let me explain.

My sister and her semi/quasi/part-time/boyfriend had a big fight the other day that bordered on breakup. I hadn’t spoken to her since then so I was dying for the details. I was in the middle of my shift yesterday when my sister finally called me. But just as she started to go into detail, the boyfriend called and she had to take it - swearing up and down she’d call me immediately afterwards.

Just then one of my Regulars, Andy, showed up unexpectedly. I was reluctant to take him, so I kinda stalled for time hoping that she’d call, but after a few minutes I gave up and booked him in. Andy is a really nice guy – quiet, but easy to get along with. He paid for 45 minutes (damn - I can’t wait 45 minutes to call my sister back!) so I just gritted my teeth and took him to the room.

Now at this point you have to understand. My baby sister is on the verge of breaking up and right when she’s about to give me her final decision, the boyfriend calls. Is this a cliffhanger or what? What could I do? Well, I did what anyone would have done – I brought my phone in session and explained to Andy that I was expecting a really really important phone call, but it shouldn’t interfere with anything.

Andy wants a G-string, so I take the phone out of my pocket and place it on the stand next to the lotion warmer. I swear to Gawd, not 10 minutes into the massage, the phone rings. It’s my sister.
“Andy, I gotta take this. You understand, right?” He nods. A nod means its OK – right? Anyway, I wipe my hands on a towel and open the phone to hear my sister crying. So there I am, standing there in nothing but a G-string consoling my sister while poor naked Andy is sprawled on the table.

After a few minutes, I realize that Andy is staring at the clock. “Sorry Andy…” I swear I was gonna tell my sister I’d call her back, but instead I just sort of started rubbing Andy’s back – the phone tucked in my shoulder as I continued to calm my sister. “… Why do you let that asshole treat you like that?... Andy, I’m getting off the phone in 2 minutes, I swear...”

I start working his upper thighs while Sis tells me about the e-mails she found from an ex-girlfriend. “I hear ya… I would have done the exact same thing… OK Andy – flip… Now what did those e-mails say?”

Andy’s being a good sport. He usually doesn’t say much during session anyway, so I don’t feel too guilty. And it’s not like I’m skimping on the massage. Now she’s telling me about the 3 hour argument they had last night as I reach for the warm baby oil. “Close your eyes Andy and relax… He did not!...” Instinctively I started working Andy’s penis with my left hand. “… And you didn’t say anything to him?...” Without even thinking, my right hand slides over his balls. “…why would you let him do that?...You like that Andy, you like my warm hand?...I told you that yesterday!”

At some point, Andy came. I could tell because he touched my hand to make me stop. I looked down – he came alright. “Uh huh… that’s exactly what you should do… Here’s a towel Andy… and I’ll go if you need any help.” I wiped my hands, looked at Andy, and pointed at my phone. “I’m gonna take this outside…Uh… you were saying?...” And I just walked out of my room, completely topless and wandered towards the back room to finish the call. Left my clothes in the room and everything.

And Sis didn’t get off the phone for another half hour. I just sat on the office couch in my G-string while Trina rolled her eyes at me.

So does this make me a bad person? I swear I will never do anything like that to any customer ever again. I know some of you are already offended by my little STD/baby joke, so I'm not helping myself any. Please find it in your hearts to forgive me!


CJ

Babies and Other Sexually Transmitted Diseases

I have to tell you the funniest story. Yesterday I visited a friend of mine in the hospital who just had a baby. He was a little small, but still all right. My friend (we’ll call her Theresa) got knocked up by this asshole guy she’s been seeing for almost a year now.

What makes him an asshole did you ask? Well let me explain – I call him an asshole since he messed around with another woman while with Theresa (8 months ago to be exact). Ya see where this is going?

Anyway, he knocked up this other woman (let’s just call her the Slut), but she wasn’t due for another month. Well, I guess she got wind of when Theresa was due, because she was in the hospital at the EXACT SAME TIME. Turns out that when she learned Theresa had gone into labor, she started punching herself in the stomach and doing whatever else needed to go into premature labor.

The Slut ended up on the same floor, but luckily on the other end of the hall from us. The father actually wore TWO wrist bands indicating he was a double daddy! And he had noooooooo trouble walking back and forth between the 2 rooms all night. In fact, you could say he was damn proud of himself.

I found out that the doctors and nurses on the floor had a pool going as to who was going to deliver first – mamma A or mamma B. Turns out that Theresa delivered first by 1 whole hour. I know that none of this has anything to do with erotic massage, but I just had to share this story. But don’t worry, I’ll talk about work soon enough.

For those of you who are really upset that I’ve gone off topic, let’s just pretend that while I was in the hospital I gave a handjob to an intern in exchange for a box of alcohol wipes. There – is that better?

CJ

Outcall Massage

I just wanted you guys to know that I try to answer all of your questions. But sometimes when I get started on an answer I realize that the little comment box is way too small. So once again, I'll answer your questions here. What can I say - I love to chat.

Anyway, I got a couple comments last week about "Outcall massage." I used to know a couple girls who did outcall massage but I'm not going to pretend I know everything about it. For those of you newbies out there, "Outcall" refers to businesses that you call up, and a girl comes over to your house/motel. There are 3 types of outcall services:

1) Therapeutic massage from a LMT (Licensed Massage Therapist) - done on a portable massage table.
2) Non-therapeutic "Relaxing Massage" with happy ending - usually done on a bed.
3) Full-service escort agencies that advertise under the name "Outcall massage" - also done on bed, but ain't no massage going on here!

What I do know is that outcall LMT's are available for people who are truly bedridden. It's a decent career option for LMTs, and it can be a gold mine if you hook up with an agency with lots of clients. I was never crazy about the idea because you basically have to be on call for hours at a time, work with people who are sometimes really ill, drive all over town, lug your massage table around in the trunk of the car, and give half your $$ to an agency. No thanks!

Someone left a question the other day about whether a friend of hers was giving happy endings since she does outcall massage. Well - it depends. If she's working regular business hours of 9am to 9pm, and her agency works with LMT's ONLY, then chances are there's no funny stuff. If the hours are late, and some of her co-workers are not LMTs, then your friend may be doing the old rub-n-tug.
I knew a girl at another business that did outcall massage, and the rules were very weird. Apparently, they had their own secret code to separate the therapeutic clients from the happy ending ones. She would tell the clients to put on a towel while she "freshened up." Then she'd ask them if they wanted the massage "with or without the towel." This was apparently the code for whether they wanted a happy ending or not.

No towel = options with happy ending :)
Towel = therapeutic massage with no happy ending :(

And she added that the towel thing also determined what kind of masseuse she would be. A towel meant that she put on her "serious" face and gave a proper therapeutic with very little chit-chat. No towel meant she could be flirty and give a "girlfriend" type massage. But either way, she said she always wore very conservative outfits since you never knew what kind of client it would be.

And that's prety much all I know about the world of Outcall Massage. If any of you guys can add to this, feel free. That reminds me - If anyone out there is interested in a never-used portable massage table, I'll make you a deal. It's been taking up space in my mom's basement ever since I graduated massage school.

CJ

Internet dating update

Hey guys,

I checked out some of those sites you suggested, but decided upon Match. They have that 6 month guarantee thing, so why not. I will NOT do E-harmony. A friend of mine once had a bad experience with them.

I have this friend who's a very devout Presbyterian...

(I know what you're all thinking - what's a nice Roman Catholic girl like me doing with a member of what's basically little more than a cult? Well, I'm very open minded when it comes to issues of religious tolerance, and I have a great capacity of caring for these poor, misguided heathen souls).

...Anyway... she was on E-harmony for several months and ended up being courted by this like-minded, religious guy. They talked for weeks and weeks about their love of the Bible and God and Jesus and even Little Baby Jesus. So when they finally decided it was time to meet, the conversation suddenly turned to what she looked like.

He was very quick to let her know that he worked out every day and was a fitness freak. When she described herself as slightly less than perfect (I think the term she used was "fluffy"), the e-mails suddenly stopped. Well, she kept at it and reminded him of their shared love for God, Jesus and Little Baby Jesus. He came around, apologized and agreed to see her.

You know where this is going, right? They had 1 date that she said went "well" but he never contacted her again. So if you think I'm going to take some stupid personality test that scientifically calculates and finds a guy who still turns out to be an asshole - you can forget it because I can do that at the local bar for free!

CJ

Vacation!

I have so much work stuff I want to talk about, but I have to tell you about my weekend first.

Remember how I was all bitchy and depressed when I realized I was missing my annual romantic getaway to the beach? Well, I was complaining about it last week to (of all people) Audrey. And even though she’s a lying, stealing and conniving skank, she actually felt bad enough to take me to Atlantic City for the weekend!

I was supposed to work Saturday and Sunday, so she just offered my shifts to the new girl (who was more than happy for the chance to make some extra $$) and off we went. It turns out that Audrey had all these comps at Caesar’s that she’s been sitting on, so hotel room and food we’re practically free! Friday morning I packed a couple of my sluttiest dresses, a pair of shorts, T-shirts, and a bikini and we jumped in her car and made it to AC by noon.

And let me tell ya – even though I talk a lot of shit about her, we had the best time! We started off our weekend with a couple drinks at the bar (which by the way were the ONLY drinks I had to pay for all weekend!) then we hit the boardwalk for some site seeing and sun. We went window shopping in that new pier/mall thing next to Caesars. We had funnel cake on the boardwalk. We even went on a ride with one of those rick-shaw things. It was just soooooo nice to spend a few days giving my arm a rest.

Now I prefer the beaches of Maryland for vacation, but this was the one and only time I had fun at the Jersey shore. They have this bar that’s actually across the boardwalk and located on the beach. We practically lived there for 2 days. I met a bunch of really cute guys, but there was this 1 in particular who was really hot and kept buying drinks for me and Audrey. She said he kinda looked like Nick Lachey, only hotter. We drank and danced and basically teased the shit out of everyone. Audrey’s only rule for the weekend was no guys in the room since this was supposed to be about me just having a good time and forgetting about my singleness. So needless to say, poor CJ went home with Audrey every evening.

Funny thing about casino bars in AC - apparently the male clientele sometimes have trouble distinguishing between the party girls and the working girls. I figured this out after 2 guys made really really bad attempts to ask me "how much?" without actually saying "how much?" So I asked the bartender if the place was full of assholes or was it just me. He explained that the hookers come out in force on the weekends, but it would take a really drunken, overly optimistic guy to confuse me with one.

Now when we weren’t milking guys for drinks, or dirty dancing in front of the DJ, we were hitting the slots (I won $25 – go me!), pigging out at a buffet, or shopping. Saturday and Sunday mornings were spent on the beach nursing our hangovers and working on our tans.

When we left for home on Sunday evening (never leave AC on a Sunday afternoon – the expressway is a parking lot), I had 5 phone numbers scribbled on napkins and business cards, and Audrey had 11. It was on the Atlantic City Expressway that Audrey introduced me to a ritual of hers. Whenever she heads home from a weekend in AC, she opens up all the windows in the car and cranks the radio really loud. Then sometime after the first toll booth, she takes the phone numbers she has collected and throws them all out the window. She called this her “purging ritual” and said it was necessary to keep AC as her special getaway and not let it affect her home life.

So I took a deep breath and emptied my fake Prada purse of all those little memories of the guys that coulda been – even Nick Lachey guy. I have to admit, it felt kinda good to know that I still got it!

CJ

Confessions of an Erotic Legal Assistant

One of you guys commented the other day about why we're not harrased by the authorities more often. This got me thinking (which is something I'm just sooooo not good at), so let me explain what I know. We're what’s known as a “nuisance” business. Basically, we’re in the same class as adult bookstores and tattoo parlors. From what I can figure, we’re called a “nuisance” because nobody really wants us around. But guess what? We pay our taxes and our rent in what would otherwise be abandoned office space. And THAT is precisely why the town doesn’t hassle us.

Sure – the locals would probably love to see a Starbucks here, or perhaps a boutique specializing in ceramic cats dressed as celebrities. But the fact of the matter is that places like us take up the retail space that no one else wants. Starbucks isn’t exactly itching for that spot at the end of the corridor behind the bail bondsman.

Please notice that we are NOT in the same category as strip clubs. Believe it or not, a “nuisance” business is actually a step up from a strip club. I’ve learned that towns HATE strip clubs. I don’t know about other states, but here in PA, strip clubs aren’t allowed to sell alcohol, but you’re allowed to BYOB. This means that the town has to deal with all the problems associated with a sleazy bar, but with none of the tax revenues.

How do I know all this stuff? A couple years ago, the state of PA wanted to crack down on massage parlors. This is when I learned all this legal stuff about the Business. I did my homework by reading through all the statutes on “Massage Practices.” I discovered that the state was going to go after us by targeting unlicensed masseuses. Our Business was safe since we had 3 licenses between us. The idea was that a town could audit your Business, and if there were no LMT’s (Licensed Massage Therapists) on staff, then out you go.

Full service places try to have 1 or 2 LMTs on staff, just to keep the locals off their backs. But once a place becomes more brothel than massage parlor, they have more things to worry about than a town clerk counting LMT diplomas.

We don’t worry about the town hassling us since we’re not a full-service operation. If a customer comes in and asks for sex – we refer him to the Other Place across town. I know that Audrey is doing some full-service stuff, but it’s with her Regulars.

What worries me now is that Trina has begun offering “extras” to some of her Regulars since she’s been desperate for cash lately. At least I HOPE they’re Regulars! All it takes is 1 badly phrased attempt to offer something a little “extra” to some new customer we can’t trust, and we’ll have guys in suits knocking on our door!

But let me tell ya - if business doesn't pick up here pretty soon, I'll be offering "extras" to pay my cable bill. Hmmmmmmm... Let a customer finger me, or lose my "Entourage?" Don't make me choose!

CJ

Internet Dating

Ya see that picture from my profile? That was taken a couple years ago when I first tried internet dating. Now I didn’t do anything normal like Match or E-Harmony or something like that. Instead, I went on this website that specialized in Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby relationships (yes – I was a gold digger back then). Let me tell ya, I had some of the funniest guys writing me. And I don’t mean funny ha-ha. I mean some of these guys were really bizarre and full of themselves.

The first category of guy I’d call the “Form Letter.” These were the ones that wrote a long response about how successful they were, but just needed that special someone (other than their wife in some cases). I called them “form letters” because they were generic, never referred to anything I said in my ad, and could be sent to anyone.

Then there were the “Nice tits!” guys. Gee – I feel so flattered. NEXT!

And finally, there were the real deals – guys that would actually write something interesting or funny in response to my ad. I ended up chatting with a bunch of these guys. I just loved how they wanted to pick me up in their private jet, or sail on their yacht, or shop in NYC. One guy actually asked for my Paypal address so he could start sending me money!! (No – I didn’t give it to him. What kinda girl do you think I am?)

I just enjoyed chatting anonymously with these guys more than anything. In fact, that’s where the name CJ comes from – it’s my internet name. I’d even go so far as to send a couple pics of me with the eyes blurred out (thanks in part to photoshop). But I think what really turned me off to actually meeting any of these guys was the fear that most of them were pimply faced 16 year old boys living in their parents basement, or serial killers. Know what I mean?

However, there was 1 guy that actually persuaded me to give him my number. He said he was this rich businessman who wanted to spoil me rotten. He was definitely the most interesting and believable of the guys I had been talking to. We talked a few times on the phone and eventually he said he could meet me as he was “passing through” these parts.

I don’t know why I agreed, because I felt really really weird after saying yes. I thought 3 times about just cancelling, but he sounded sooooooooooo nice on the phone. Oh well. I went through with it and met him at a local restaurant. BUT as I had feared, he was anything but a rich businessman trying to spoil me rotten. He was just a lonely traveling salesman with no money and a wife who didn’t “understand” him. We still had a nice dinner and we talked for a bit about his personal problems, but that was about it.

That’s when I gave up the internet dating thing and did things the old fashioned way – meeting guys in bars. That’s how I ended up with that last jerk.

Why am I talking about internet dating? I’m seriously thinking of jumping online again. Partly because I’m getting bored with the Brad Pitt clone, and partly because everyone on this blog thing has been so nice to me. I think I miss the anonymous computer chatting. And I promise to try a more normal service this time like Match or something. I’ll keep you posted if I find anyone interested in dating a blonde, scorpio, shampooer who likes long walks on the beach…

CJ