How I became a Gigolo

Aww, man, it was great. One lunchtime, one massage, and fifty hot bucks right in my wallet. That's, like, espresso money for the MONTH, babe.

It all started out when I realized just how hot my late-50's Jewish-Princess boss is. You know, the ones with eyebrows like wrinkled raisins, and skin to match, with all her kids bugginer her for the cash she picked up by dumping the hell out of her no-good workaholic lawyer husband? Oh, yeah, man, you know that's where the money's coming from... stressed out bosses I can do evil things to for cash... once a week would pay for my parking, espresso, AND lunch the whole year round... for bosses who will then be less stressed out, making my cushy day gig that much cushier.

So, rule one for doing bodywork on one of your bosses: know what you're doing. If you've got to have your hands on some gal's chest where people are likely to walk into the office they only thought was a good empty spot to eat their bag lunches, be cool about it: do something horrific and painful to a gal's chest in order to loosen up the bound-up muscle fibers on the second rib that are keeping a stressed-out boss from breathing right, make sure it REALLY HURTS. Nothing protects you from getting brutally sued, and cements your reputation for "not hitting on old wrinkly women with bad boob jobs" like doing something excruciatingly painful to one of your bosses, and being both thanked and paid for the pleasure of doing so. In fact, I strongly recommend saying things like "close one eye and start shaking your leg like a cat coming out of a swimming pool, because this is going to hurt like you only thought childbirth did."

And try to avoid having to do anything but basic manly stuff on guys. Not the gay angle, or some stupid stuff like that, but let's fact facts: gals smell better, even when they're wearing that "eau de something disgusting" from Nieman's, and more importantly, much more importantly, if you outweight somebody by sixty pounds, and have 40% more skeletal muscle pound-for-pound anyway, you don't have to work as hard. What's easier, hoisting some crabby old lady over your head in order to set her up for an atomic drop while simultaneously making sure that her back sounds like the percussions section at a Lindy Hop revival... or doing that to some 45-year-old investment banker who weighs 240 and hasn't seen the inside of a gym since he tried to get laid once by playing racquetball in college?

Now, unfortunately, the way I do bodywork tends to teach you how to not screw your body up more in the future, so, unlike chiropractors, I can't just farm it out forever. But oh yeah, to support my lavish corporate espresso-lunch lifestyle, I could be a once-a-week Office Gigolo...