Outcall Massage



I was toying with the idea of doing a script for the theatre after my recent sit-in to the reading of Tony’s play and wonder which of my experiences I should ‘prolong’ to facilitate this.  Then I to reviewed some of my writings and found this one (the first of two articles on the same person) that I had shared with about 10 persons back in 2010.  I was amused afresh and thought to put it on the blog.  Here goes…

I am considering starting a publication called: Massage in the Skewed.  I am convinced that I am not the only therapist who has an adventurous career and this would be a great outlet for the others to share their experiences.  It may be helpful for ‘young’ therapists to appreciate that the road we walk is not as straight as we desire it to be, and that all the twists and turns can be handled smoothly.

This morning I lay in bed and made mental list of the things I would like to accomplish in the new week.  Certainly, such requires finance.  I surrendered my plan to ALL THAT IS.  Less than an hour after my phone rang.  A ‘captain’ I hadn’t seen in at least three years called to book an appointment for 6pm.  Accepted.  I lay back in bed.  Okay!  I understand.  I have to earn my keep.  Fine!

I showed up at Power Boats down Chaguaramas at 6pm.  The boat was in the yard because it needed repairs.  I climbed the narrow metal ladder, sat and drank water from ‘Italy’ and engaged in the catching-up.  90mins of massage (I billed him for 2 hrs to cover the talk time) got started about 6:30pm. It was a full yoga session for me…if you know what the bed in one of those cabins is like.

A few minutes into it, the captain rolled over and said: “You got on waaaaaay to much clothes.  Come on, get naked.”  My initial feeling was to titter back down that mental ladder.  Sometimes I don’t care to play the games.  But, this guy needed a massage.  He spent much time hanging upside down fixing the engine (still red in the face), apart from the many trips he had to make up and down the ladder.  I told him to close his eyes and he can see anything he wishes.  He asked:  “So I’m to close my eyes and imagine Naomi Campbell naked?”  Anything you wish.

A man wants what he wants and aggressive responses do not help.  I bypassed the body and went for his soul.  I let it know that I needed its cooperation if the work to be done is to get done. I’m now done with the legs and am moving to do his back when he spreads his legs ever so wide and tells me that he is ‘making room’ for me to ‘work in the middle.’  Middle where?  He does not respond.  I proceeded to the back.  I do appreciate that part of my work is spiritual, but I am not convinced that I am tasked with raising every man’s Kundalini.  I asked him if he proposes to challenge me in every way possible.

When he was driving me back to the entrance, he asked if this is a ‘fixed policy’ that I have with clothes and cited many examples of therapists who work in the nude.  I told him I can, but I am choosing not to.  He wanted to know if I felt I was better than him, that my body was too good for him to see, but I could look at his.  Dear me!  Not at all.  Anyway, it ended well and the point is that it is okay for fear to be our initial response to a challenge, but we don’t have to stop there.  We can go beyond it and experience the real reason why we meet who we meet.

So, here I am, standing at the bus shed opposite Power Boats when I am approached by a Spanish guy.  ‘You from around here?’

‘No.’ I said.

‘Oh.  I want to get a taxi.’

‘You can get a yellow-band maxi to take you into town.’

‘You going to town?’


‘I go this way.’  He pointed towards the Cove direction.


He comes closer to me.  Wants to know how come I’m standing there if I’m not from there.  Said I was visiting someone.  Gave him my card.  Introductions.  He is Santos, I am Rinalda.

‘So this is all you do?’


‘You don’t go all the way.’

‘No.  Like to keep things simple.’

‘Uuhhhhhh.  Pity.  You look nice.’


‘You can come to my room?’

‘Are you drunk?’  I was as uncertain of him as he was of me.

‘No.  I natural.  No alcohol.  No drugs.’

And, in that moment I decided to take a walk with Santos…to West Palm…where he was staying.  He told me he had a roommate, a boy.  Interesting.  When we got there he decided that he should go in first, I wait and come after.  I looked at his hotel card to get the room number and he walked off.  I looked towards heaven and said out loud that I could do without a covert operation.

I breathed deeply and went to the receptionist who directed me to the room.  There were so many directional signs on the walls that I got lost and someone had to escort me to the room.  I got in after a few knocks and found that the roommate was a balding African covered up under the quilt in one of the two queen sized beds.

‘Massage!’  Santos said to him, while pointing at me.

A few minutes into the massage, the roommate gets up, asks if it’s a 1-hour massage, takes one cigarette from a pack and leaves the room.  Santos negotiates.  ‘I will pay you US$100 to go all the way.’  I reiterated my need for a simple life and he said he respects that, but that if the roommate stays out long enough, I could at least masturbate him.  How much that will be?  Dear me.  A man wants what he wants.  And it is that same energy of hope, excitement, etc. that flows back into the system and brings about healing.

The roommate returns while I am doing his back.  He fidgets from there on.  His hope being lost.  However, he is loud in his compliments and even asks the African if he ever had a massage.  African is well aware of such because his ‘girl’ is a LMT.  Santos tells him in the end that this was the best US$50 he has spent in Trinidad.  He was glad to have a ‘real’ massage.  His muscles need it.  He worked hard today.  It was much better than what he got from the Chinese girl he had there some time recently.  Hmmm.  Exciting.

African asks if I had a husband.  I said: No.  He wanted to know why not.  (Actually, some such relationships require a certain degree of grovelling on the part of the female and I have not had time to sharpen my skills in that area).  I asked him if he could imagine me going home to a husband at this time of the night and ‘sharing’ with him how my evening went.  He laughed.  How do I explain being in a room with two men, one looking on at the other one being massaged?  Illogical…irrational…maybe even irreverent.  But, like the Captain, Santos needed to have a few lines of his massage history rewritten, among other things.  Remember, while the mind might be running on ‘attraction’, and the body anxiously awaits a serving of what it is accustomed to, the soul in there has a different need to be met.

I was on my way out when Santos stopped me.  More negotiations.  I am to go into the washroom with him and do the masturbation for US$20.  I told him he needs to get back into bed.  He promised to call me again.  I told him we did not consciously orchestrate this meeting, let’s not do so for the next.  He thinks I am very polite.

As I stood on the road reflecting on the past few hours, a maxi stopped.  The driver looked at me curiously.  He was the same driver who had dropped me off by Power Boats earlier.  Hmmm.  Probably one of my angels on this mission.  When I got into town I was walking like a Chinese…all my pores raised…I could not get home fast enough…the ‘Italian’ water urgently wanted to return to Italy.

I think it is midnight.  I should go to bed.  When I used to keep a diary, these are the things I would write.  I am checking myself to see why it is that I am sharing this experience, and I think that my intentions might be skewed as well.  But the point remains, knowing the path and walking it are two different things.

I wish you well in your massage career and I present myself to you as a mirror.  A mirror reflects truth.  When you look at me, see what you like, and see what you don’t like.  Then choose how you will walk your path.  All that happens outside a spa arrangement can happen inside as well.  People use words to get what they want.  When the words don’t make headway, they have to rethink their strategy.  Words are vibration.  If our clients and potential clients can choose to deal with us on a vibrational level, how much more are we equipped to deal with them.  Collect their intentions (in mid-air), envelope it, and stamp RETURN TO SENDER even before they get a chance to start acting out their intentions.

Be blessed