I worked as a lifeguard/fitness center attendant in the Millenium Hilton, across the street from what was the World Trade Center. It catered to business travelers. I wasn't union, so I was not supposed to accept tips, but try to tell me not to take extra money for pampering spoiled rich assholes. I got lots of tips because I was kind, and I remembered people and their routines, and anticipated their needs in advance by the third time I saw them. Like the skinny blonde lady with the pretty nose was going to run on a treadmill for several hours, every day of her stay, and then she was going to sit in the sauna drinking ice cold water for an hour. I always changed her towel halfway through her run, left fresh towels and a robe waiting for her next to the sauna, and would miraculously appear with more cold water every time she opened the sauna door. She would have a massage in her room, with a female therapist if possible, please, 90 minutes most days. The second I saw her I'd get someone on standby. On the last day of her stay she always thanked me for her kindness, and gave me an envelope with two or three crisp twenties.
The massage therapists tipped too. They wanted to be the first person I called. Their rates were very good, and I can't imagine they were not tipped well. People in NYC tip. Everybody knows that. Right? So, every time I booked a massage, I'd get $20-50. It just depended how much work I got them, and who it was. I rarely called the people who gave me $10. That's life.
Whenever I ran out of therapists, it was a problem. Usually, the guest would just ask me to keep trying, maybe book them for tomorrow. That kind of thing. Every once in a while, some slime ball would ask me to do the massage. Some fat, half bald pig old enough to be my father or grandfather would try to get my unlicensed, barely legal self upstairs.
Nope. I'd tell them I didn't have a license, and I didn't know how to do a good massage. They never cared. "We'll work something out, Sweetheart." Ick! I'd tell them I wasn't allowed on guest floors under any circumstances. I once worked from open to close, a double shift (18 hours), on the 4th of July, unable to even leave for lunch. The trains were experiencing delays, there were reports of gunshots in my neighborhood mere blocks from my house, AND I was scheduled to open the next day, and might have ended up with another double. My boss BEGGED Hilton corporate and the general manager of that hotel to give me a room for the night so I could go straight to bed, having worked well past my bedtime. I closed at 11. I was due to open at 5 AM. Hilton responded that I was not permitted on guest floors. End of. So no, not even as his guest, as if anyone would believe an 18 year-old lifeguard was some old guy's proper guest.
Then the offers of money would start. Never precise amounts, just assurances that I would be well compensated for my time and attention. For real? "Sir, I'll have the concierge send you up a copy of the Voice. You may find a suitable solution to this predicament on the last page."
Of course, there were always the ones who when I asked if they preferred a male or female therapist would reply, "Are any of them soft and chocolaty like you?" I'd send them this big, serious white guy after pretending I couldn't reach any of the female therapists. "Michael is very, very good. Everyone just loves him here." I didn't know how good or bad any of them were. Mike just looked like he could handle himself if it got stupid. If Mike handed me a $20, I'd have a tenner waiting for him. "Keep half. This might be unpleasant. I'm sorry."
Now you know why I try not to give Hilton any of my money. It's not easy. They own everything. They weren't good to me, and there were cockroaches in the basement. Big, flying ones. And rats. I hated going down there to fix pump room problems, but that's what a head lifeguard does.
These people who just think they can buy whatever and whomever they want are not good people. Sometimes I'm attracted to my massage therapist too. Do I let on? No! Money has changed hands and they have to be nice to me. I treat them with the same respect I want from strangers at work. I don't want it to get awkward when I ask for help with my glutes, aductors, and abductors. I want them to be comfortable with my very personal, intimate request. I tip 25% instead of 20% if I make awkward requests and they honor them professionally and don't let me feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. Also, im very ticklish all those places. I assume I'm a giant pain in the ass.