After a few minutes of unbelievably awkward silence, a deep voice broke through. “Can you sit up?” It was a man’s voice. I began to get up, half anxious to see who this mysterious person was giving me a massage, and half frightened at the possibilities. This was not the doctor at all. The stout hispanic man in front of me was the front desk receptionist. “Okay, can I have you sit in this chair?” He said to me. I was in complete shock. Why on earth was he in here? Is this allowed? This is not what I signed up for.
So I did what he said. I sat in the chair, still shirtless. He showed me a neck stretching exercise. “It will loosen your neck muscles up” he said. My mind raced as the situation got more awkward. “He should not be in here” I thought to myself. “What is he doing?” He asked me to return to the table and continued to massage my back. “Surely,” I told myself, “I have this wrong.” While he wasn’t as good as the young masseuse, the man did give a halfway decent back massage. They must have sent him in to continue to work out my back. I began to convince myself that things were normal and I was not just being massaged by the stocky receptionist.
My bubble burst as the door opened and the doctor walked in. Since I was laying facedown on the table, I relied solely on my ears to tell me what was going on. “Oh…” the doctor said, with a surprised tone in her voice, “Umm… Javier, uh, thanks for getting, uh, thanks, that’s uhh… I’ll take over from here.” The doctor’s reaction was that of complete surprise. Javier immediately stopped and exited the small room, returning to his job at the front desk.
Javier did not belong in the room with me. His job was at the desk. That’s all he did. But he must have grown tired of his job. Day in and day out, he would watch as countless patients would pass by him and onto the back rooms for a massage and chiropractic adjustment. The glamorous life as a masseuse proved too tempting for him. He couldn’t take it any longer, he had to try it out. So he did. On me.