The Beginning

I walked into my new job through the front double doors leading into the lobby. I donned black scrubs from my old chiropractor job because I didn’t have my Massage Envy shirt yet. As soon as I was a foot inside the lobby I experienced a slight sensation of wanting to turn around and run as far away as I could get. The lobby was a zoo, packed to the limit with people vying for the attention of a front desk associate or squashed together on the purple furniture. One day after Christmas might not have been an ideal day to start work. Oh well. I politely fought my way to the hallway doors which eventually led to the break room. There were half a dozen therapists in there moving around so quickly that it looked like a drone of hornets having a freaking seizure. Upon seeing me however, I was greeted very warmly with an introduction, smile, and handshake which lessened my nerves just slightly. Taking a look at the break room computer, I realized I had a massage lined up to start in ten minutes with a Wilton Smith. Immediately I felt like I had been socked in the stomach. I was so used to giving thirty minute massages (and on only one area like a bad knee or a whiplashed neck) that I had gotten really rusty with certain techniques. The clock kept creeping towards top of the hour so I tracked down a manager who helped me find an empty room (it would at least take me a week or two more to learn to whole room assignment thing but we’ll get to that in another post). I then frantically trudge to the side of the lobby desk where the client files are kept and select mine from the bunch. After reviewing his medical history I walk out to the area where the couches are and call out: “Wilton?” A man in his mid forties stands up, smiles, walks towards me. I brighten up my face, welcome him with a greeting and a handshake and then tell him to follow me. Once in the room I ask him what his areas of concern are. He listed his upper back and neck as his primary areas of pain. I leave him to disrobe to his level of comfort and get underneath the sheets face down. After returning his chart to the lobby desk I wash my hands and knock on the door to make sure he was not still undressing. He says, “I’m good!” and I walk in the room, adjusting the foot pillow, face cradle, and heating pad to his desired level. As soon as I began massaging his back a lot of my skills from school flooded back into my head and I felt infinitely more confident. Scared of course, but still confident. I finally make it through the fifty minutes (which felt like fifty days) and excuse myself so he could dress. I washed my hands, grabbed fresh sheets, a face cradle cover, a cup of water, and wait outside the door like a friendly stalker (or so it felt like). He emerges, groggy and sleepy-eyed, and says it was a great massage. Hearing that felt so good, but him handing my twenty bucks felt even better. After a couple more massages my boss (sensing that I was still overwhelmed) decides to send me home several hours early. My heart leaps at this and I think I looked a little too enthusiastic about it. I return to the front desk, turn in my cream and holster, and check out. I get my purse from a locker in the break room, say goodbye to the strange faces that don’t have names I can remember, and walk out to my car. After taking a few deep breaths and congratulating myself on a first day well (enough) done, I start my engine and head home with a smile on my face.