the new strip club
I'm gonna sound like a cranky old curmudgeon here, but would it kill some of you service industry types out there to smile once in awhile? As long as we're engaging in this commercial transaction with one another, would it be so hard to pretend to heed the fact that there's a fellow
human on the other end of it, and at the end of the day we're both just hustling to compete in this rat race? Why does the guy who cuts my turkey at the deli know my name and smile with something that might mean actual genuineness every day I walk through the door, and yet you, the girl who is supposed to be spending a full hour every week in the presence of my naked cock, waste the first five minutes calling in my credit card and avoiding eye contact? I know a lot of rackets in this country can get away without offering that "personal touch," but baby, you're in the personal touch business! Five more things we can learn from the hardworking clients of Asian massage parlors like 36-year-old family man and Wall Street lawyer Skip, who has been fucking the same masseuses for two years and could use a little human kindness, from
Page Six Magazine's definitive guide to Wall Street massage enthusiasts, after the jump:
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Jezebel
