Sometimes it pays to read the big print

CALL me naive, but it was only last year I learned happy endings had a context unrelated to Enid Blyton and Hollywood movies.

My blissful ignorance was destroyed on holiday in Queensland when I inquired about a little red circle on a door — like a no smoking sign or the Ghostbusters logo.

A red line through the words “no happy endings” in a massage setting clearly extends beyond a world of ginger beer and potted ham sandwiches.

I’m reasonably athletic; roughly two midweek runs above a weekend warrior. And, as do many business owners, I often sit at the laptop in a horribly un-ergonomic fashion for 10 hours at a stretch. As a result, I’ve probably invested a small Audi’s worth of dollars into deep tissue massage over the years.

So I know the difference between a skin polish, a chatfest, a professional and a trainee. Like hairdressers, car mechanics and accountants, when you find a good massage therapist you can only hope they never move interstate, retire or change careers.

I recently learned the perils and pitfalls of poor practice in the beauty industry from a young, upcoming Geelong businesswoman. Cassie Buckley, of Cassie’s Radiant Nails and Beauty, transfixed her audience with images and explanations of what can go wrong when unsuspecting customers fall prey to untrained practitioners.

More than contracting fungal infections and other transmissible nasties, the graphic photograph of a woman’s cracked and bleeding nail bed from incorrect removal of an acrylic nail will haunt me for years. Knowing the poor customer had pure alcohol poured directly on to the mess still makes my eyes water.

But the training message was that the customer didn’t complain; she simply didn’t go back. While her smart move was finding Cassie to repair the damage, a formal complaint to the industry body would be doubly effective.

Apparently, we accept pretty low standards.

Only two days after Cassie’s presentation, I decided to relieve my deadline-induced aching neck late on a Sunday. I knocked on the door of a local massage business at 4.30pm, unsure if they’d still be open.

Looking a little surprised to see me, the woman took my money and showed me to the room. Within minutes I knew I faced a long and dissatisfying hour. Starting at the neck, the poor technique was more than annoying, it was painful in all the wrong ways. When she started digging into the backs of my knees it became clear that whatever her day job, it was definitely not massage.

Like a fool, I’d paid the $90 upfront — an indication, in hindsight — and I’ll sheepishly admit I left without complaint. As Cassie described, I’d been a passive and compliant customer. I won’t go back but that doesn’t make a difference, nor does it reward those people who’ve invested in a qualification. In future I’ll look for the certificate and I’ll investigate how to report poor standards.

There is much political discussion around “unskilled workers”. I’ve witnessed professional incompetence in many shapes, colours and forms, so my view is that it belongs to no particular group of people.

The point is that reading the signs is important if we want to reward effort and keep our standards high. Stephanie Asher is a professional consultant, writer and speaker. Twitter: @stephanieasher1