This weekend was unusually slow for me at the Spa. On one hand it was nice to attend to some things around the house, but of course if I’m not working that means I’m not adding to my retirement (or at least to a set of those spinning rims from Walmart). We had our first week of warm weather and I think people are starting to get out more to enjoy the outdoors and a little bit of sun.
It can be difficult to know sometimes whether or not you’re going to be really busy. Some weekends I’ll have 9 or 10 appointments, and sometimes there will only be half that. There are days when you have four clients booked, but two end up canceling at the last minute. And similarly, there are times when you suspect a slow day and you’ll get a couple of walk-ins. You take the good with the bad (kind of like blowjobs, they’re nice and all, but nobody likes teeth.)
The one thing I hate more than cancellations though, are when people show up late. I certainly have compassion for the ones that are sincere and apologetic, it’s the ones that act like your time (and that of your other clients) isn’t as important as theirs, that get under my nice caramel skin. Keep in mind, when you show up late, I’m forced to make a decision. Do I dock you the time you were late and risk you being upset, or give you the entire session and get behind for the rest of the day? What do you think happens?
You’re requested to show up 15 minutes prior to your appointment, which is standard operating procedure for just about every place of business in the entire health industry known to man; the dentist (that bastard), your family physician, the chiropractor, the va-jay-jay doctor, so on and so forth. The spa is no different, except that we ask you to be early not only to fill out the intake form, but also because with each massage you are given a complimentary foot soak treatment with bath salts and aromatherapy oils. Trust me, the foot bath is just as much for me as it is for you. I can’t tell you how many times someone’s walked around all day in the heat of summer in their sweaty ass shoes only to come in late, miss the foot soak, and leave me to deal with fermented toe jam fumes for an hour. [takes a deep breath] Aaaahh . . . . summer’s right around the corner!