Last night I got a much needed massage. I love my massage therapist. He is a hoot. Typically when I go to get a massage I just want to sleep and not talk. I told him that the first time I went to him. He said ok I can do that. That was a year ago and he hasn't stopped talking since. He's so funny though that I really don't mind.
Me: Ouch! That hurts! Too hard!
Him: Anytime you feel any discomfort just let me know.
Me: Um, yeah, I thought I just did.
Him: Just speak up annnnnytime now. Don't be afraid to say something.
Him (while shaking out my arm and causing all sorts of seismic activity under my sheet): Isn't it weird that some of my clients feel uncomfortable when they're jiggling all over the place?
Me: Yeah, I was just thinking if you weren't already gay I probably just turned you.
Me (in the middle of some crazy medieval stretches): Am I covered well enough?
Him: Believe me honey, I'm not trying to look anywhere. Nobody wants to see your kitty cat.
Me: Am I your wimpiest client?
Him: No of course not.
A minute later
Him: But you're definitely in my top 5.