Raaaaaagggeeee

I have come to air my complaints about one insidious, self-centered, anti-punctual asshole. Let’s call him John Smith. Well, John Smith is a nurse who works nights and never seems able to make his appointments, his daytime appointments, on time. I have worked on him now eight times and enough is enough. We’re all human so occasional lateness is no big deal. However, he has never been on time even once. I would know- I’m his therapist. He has cost me a massage more than one time and I am so sick of it.

 Last week he called three minutes after his appointment start-time to reschedule for half an hour later. Why? He failed to be on time for yet another appointment because he was sleeping in and wanted the extra rest. He exuberantly offered this excuse as if it was the golden I’m-in-the-E-R universally-acceptable excuse. Get an alarm clock! So yesterday he walks in the clinic at 9 AM to make an 11:30 appointment with me. I walked into the lobby just as he was speaking to the receptionist and my lack of excitement to see him was very noticeable.

 As soon as he walked out  I asked the front desk associate to please give him a courtesy call half an hour before his appointment time to ensure he’s on his way. I told her as well as the manager on staff, if asked by him last minute to move his appointment down, to please lie and say I have an appointment after him. I really don’t want to lose any more money to this guy.

A couple hours later I get out of a massage at 11:25, change the sheets, and walk up to the lobby area to call Mr. Smith for his session. He is nowhere in sight. I look to the front desk girl; we can call her Abby, and shrug my shoulders as if asking “Where is he?” She shook her head at me and explained that, although she had called him, she had not been able to contact him at all. My face turned dark and mood level took a nosedive. I mean, how inconsiderate do you have to be to never make an appointment on time? Very inconsiderate, I think.

I take a seat on a plush purple couch and start tapping my foot to the beat of the second hand on my watch. Three minutes tick by…five minutes…twelve. Fifteen minutes into his appointment time the front desk phone starts ringing. Abby picks up to hear a very rushed and groggy voice on the other end. “Hello! Umm….My name is John….Umm….I was supposed to have an appointment right now…Umm…Yeah, you see I kind of slept in so I’m going to need to move my appointment down!” What an idiot. “I’m sorry John; unfortunately your therapist has an appointment right after you. You still have thirty-five minutes left in your session so if you can get here as soon as possible, she’ll be able to give you the rest of that.”

I hunch over the faux-marble desk space as I listen in to the conversation as best I could. I am appalled, simply and completely appalled, at the nerve of this guy to try and change my schedule around to accommodate his utter lack of punctuality and planning. He agrees to hurry up and come in to take advantage of the remainder of his session. Surely enough, seven minutes later he comes charging in the door and I swear it was his intention to make me feel rushed. I was ready to take him back to the room immediately and instructed him to follow me. Apparently, “follow me” was interpreted as “charge ahead in no particular direction”.

As soon as we got to the room he decided that he needed to use the restroom. Fine. He does his business and then comes back. After a brief intake, I instructed him to disrobe to his comfort level and begin face-down. He tells me he’ll only need ten seconds, as if I had no chart to complete and file and no hands to wash. What an asshole. I exit the room, turn in his chart, and go to the bathroom to wash my hands. Apparently this guy was in too much of a hurry to put the toilet seat down or put the paper towel he used to dry his hands with in the trash. It was pretty disgusting.

Upon entering the room, an evil idea sweeps through my mind. I thought, ‘I should give him a really crappy massage’. I mean, I really don’t want him as a client so why not? I have never intentionally decreased the quality of my massage with someone so this seems like a scary adventure. Somehow, I overcame that and delivered to this asshole the crappiest massage you could ever give someone. I am not proud of it, but not sorry either.

When I was done, instead of waiting outside the door for him with a cup of water I retreated to the break room to hide until he was off the property. My scheme worked: around the time when he should have been checking out, the appointment he made with me for this upcoming weekend disappeared from my schedule and appeared in the column of another therapist. Hopefully I’ll be rid of him forever!