I met my friend E for coffee last week. E is 77 years old and has quite a history. In her early 20's she met a man, fell in love, converted to Judaism for him and got married. The relationship turned out to be abusive, and in her 30's she went back to school (she didn't even have her high school at this point, having arrived in Toronto at the age of 15 after living in the bush in Northern Ontario her whole life), got her nursing degree, left her husband...never taking a penny from him... and got on with her life.

I can't remember if I've told this story of hers, but it's a classic and there's nothing wrong with repeating it.

As part of her nursing degree, she did a practicum under the supervision of another nurse. On her first day, she was sent to give the patients sponge baths, and her first patient was a 90 year old man.

She was understandably nervous, but determined to do a good job. So she got to work, did full oral care, sponge bathed his body, and (as she put it with a twinkle in her eye) "saved the best for last."

She got down to his crotch area, got the washcloth all sudsy, and got to work. She pulled back the foreskin and cleaned him thoroughly, being very conscientious to do it well.

And then she tried to put the foreskin back into the position she found it in. And it wouldn't go.

At this point in the story, she started making these hilarious jerking motions with her hands, "...and I tried, and I tried, and I worked on that thing for ten minutes, but it WOULDN"T GO BACK! And his penis was getting redder and redder, and I was sure he was going to have a stroke or had a blood clot or something!"

Finally out of desperation she called her supervising nurse to come in. The supervisor came in, looked the situation over, and looked up at E with an appraising look. "How many children did you say you have?"

E, flustered, wailed, "Four! But we're Jewish! I've never seen a foreskin before!"

The supervisor gently said, "I think if you leave the room for a while everything will go back to normal."

E has never told me what her patient's reaction to all this was... but I'm pretty sure I could take a wild guess. And I think there's a good chance he tried to request her for future sponge baths.

Two e-mails in my inbox today.

One from two clients (co-workers) who want to take me out for a swank lunch next week.

And this one:

Just had to drop you a quick line in earnest, if early, nostalgia.

I want to say thank you for your interest, patience and enthusiasm over the past two years. While I may not have been your most dedicated client to regular exercise, I always enjoyed the challenge and variety your workouts provided. Despite my lacklustre performance over our two most recent sessions, I do believe you have managed to strengthen the core, the arms and my enjoyment of a great workout.

I wish you every success as you venture forth.

Cheers, for now.
_____

For Christmas a client gave me a bottle of Pirramimma Shiraz 2002.

I may never go back to that cheap, under $20 crap again. Yum. Also, Yum.

So work asked me to pose as the trainer in some promo shots they were doing. I said yes, not really thinking much of it since I've done stuff like that before. When I showed up, however, I discovered that it was a bit of a bigger deal than I had anticipated... they had actually hired a professional photographer with big, impressive looking lights and whatnot.

The first scenario had me taking the blood pressure of my "client" D., who was another co-worker. The photographer asked us to have a typical conversation while I was doing it, to make it look more authentic. I looked at D, smiled charmingly and said, "So how are you doing with your heroin habit?"

D. grinned a bit and said, "Oh, good! I've cut back to weekends, the odd Thursday... you know."

"Uh-huh," I said, checking his blood pressure and resting heart rate. "That's great, great. Moderation is really key, you know."

The conversation rolled on this way for quite some time, with the end conclusion being that D. was knocking back 4-5 Wendy's Baconaters (sp?) per day, had cut down to three packs a day of cigarettes and had some unusual and unnamed bowel disease -- which apparently, could be cured with the right stretches.

The photographer was in stitches... but not nearly as much as when I started working on the second "client," E. Somehow, it only took us 5 minutes to come to the conclusion that we were working in an S&M gym, where one could purchase "special services" for a small fee.

As I acted out demonstrating the treadmill to E., I rolled into my sales pitch. "The special services are all-inclusive, and you will of course receive a safe word."

E., looking wide-eyes and excited, exclaimed, "A safe word? What is it??"

Smiling prettily, I said calmly, "We don't tell you until after we process your credit card."

I'm going to have the evilest smirk on my face for all these photos. Hopefully some of them are usable.

From a client, discussing drinking Yellowtail wine:

I'd drink Domaine D'or out of a box before I'd drink Yellowtail.

Okay, maybe you had to be there. But it's amazing the snappy one-liners she can fit in between 5 minute cardio sprints.

I received a Hallmark e-card from a client 5 minutes ago...

I can't thank you enough for helping me to get started on the road of good health and fitness...I won't let you down. By the time I'm done you'll be able to use me in your "before and after" poster child work portfolio... heehee. I will be in touch soon for updating or if I feel myself slacking off. Super thanks again!!

I do love my job.