The Big Guy

Not really big, but huge. Not really a guy, but a beast. Washed-up, retired biker. Covered in tattoos and old track scars. This guy comes complete with AA key chain and NA earrings. A regular at the one of the office I love. Diabetic, overweight, has had open heart surgery three times-he practically has a zipper down the front of his chest. Realistically, he's gross. Not smelly gross, but heavy breathing, can't take care of himself gross. I have to work on his feet- which are covered with calluses so thick they are practically bullet proof. In the midst of working on his feet he'll sometimes ask me if I see any open wounds on the bottom of them. Why? Because his belly is so huge he can't get to them. His toe nails are long...really long.

We make small talk, usually. Or rather he makes inappropriate comments, I listen and swallow the bile that splashed the back of my throat.

"If my wife would touch me the way you do, I might like her."
"If your boyfriend doesn't like you leaning over him, I'll be your boyfriend."
"I like to watch your mouth when you talk, heh heh."
"I like when you're rough on me, I wish you would just spank me instead."
"I'm just gonna close my eyes and picture you doing that- only wearing something else, like nothing."

haha?

There is a fine line here. I see a number of male comments who flirt harmlessly and sometimes shamelessly, I would have to say he is more shameless. The dilemma with people like this is you will have to ask yourself how much of a good sport you are. If you go along with the flirting (and you know it's harmless), you take the risk of the client taking advantage of you, taking a comment too far or even their actions too far. You may know it's harmless, but sometimes they forget themselves. However if you shut them down completely, act like a prude, act like you have never heard a joke or can't take a joke, you risk losing a client, and their word of mouth.
He is also a close personal friend of the doctor I work for an respect- who is nothing like this guy at all.
I try to humor the doctor and the big guy.

Last week was my birthday. I was running about 10 mins- not usually a big deal. If I am late I will go over into the next hour and not penalize you. So I started him at ten after. I finished him at 5 after. 55 mins. The average massage is about 55 mins. It is virtually impossible to give everyone a whole hour, for the fact being that the room needs to be cleaned before the next client comes in (sheets changed, aired out and therapist must wash-up).
In that 55 mins, the big guy was extra friendly. Asking what my boyfriend was gonna give me(wink-wink) for my special day, he had some suggestions. At this point, I quickly shut him down, was curt to him and all signs of friendliness ceased to exist. He was not happy
In fact he was so unhappy, he actually went home thought about how unhappy he was, and how he was actually jipped out of 5 mins out of his time.
He called and complained.
"She was late. She rushed the whole thing. She was rude and unprofessional. She told me to hurry up and get dressed, because she has to keep schedule."
Lie. Lie. Lie.
How was this situation resolved? He was given another massage with an extra 60 mins for free.
Which meant I had to work on him for two hours on the next visit for which I was only paid for one.
The doctor offered him this, without even talking to me first. And I felt bad. Why?
Because I like this doctor, and at this point I could tell him my side of the story, but the fact of the matter is, he has know that client longer than he has known me. AND I WAS running late that day, I'm sure it is entirely possible that I could have said those things. But is it entirely impossible for him to say the things he said?
My doctor didn't say a whole lot when I told him. I think he just honestly believes he is harmless and I am sure he is.
He's just an asshole. (the big guy, not the doctor)
I hate being in this position. I feel like I should be peeling this guy grapes and bowing to his fucking feet. He thinks he got his way. He thinks he owns me and got me in trouble. And in a sense, I do feel owned and chained to that position. I like it there, but must continue to work on him to work there.
For the three days after the incident, I work up at 5 am, said goodbye to my other half, and went back to sleep. Only to be woken up by nightmares of this guy holding me down with one hand, pissing on my back. Or being held down by my neck why his fat bloated naked body crushed me. On that Friday I was certain I screamed so loud while tussling with sheets , that I woke myself up and scared the cats off the bed.
Afraid of this guy?
This pisses me off even more. There have only been 2 men I have been afraid of my entire life, and I am not about to add him to the list.
So, I have to go into that room every Tuesday and face my fears. Laugh at him under my breath and try to get through this, alone.
All for what? Because he complained about me?

On a lighter note, I have resorted to taking pictures of him with my phone while he is unaware, then forwarding it to all the people I know, who will laugh with me, or sympathize. At this point I can't really decide what I want more. And it makes me feel less alone. It's totally unethical, but I can't help it. I'm just done. And besides, they are only pictures of his feet or his back or the top of his head- never the face.
I swear I haven't done this before.
Anyone want to see? I'd be more than happy to forward you the pics- for free!
Anyway,
only temporary as I see it. Soon enough I'll never have to see him again. Or not soon enough.

That's where I'm at.
I already skipped a week.

I don't want to do this anymore.
The job.
Not the writing.

a.