This didn't happen too long ago but it's pretty cringe-worthy so here's it is - my story.
After many years' worth of staring at screens and sitting in awkward positions my lower back is pretty sensitive. It can take a lot of punishment in some ways but very little in others - for example I can't stand up and still for a long time, although I can run, play sports, etc just fine. As a result I sometimes need to visit an RMT to loosen it up. Thankfully there is a very good massage/physical therapy clinic near my workplace, so I can always pop over my lunch hour or after work.
One December, not that many Decembers ago, I needed a visit again... but as it was near the end of year many people were taking their leftover 'freebie' insurance company-paid massage appointments then, so the clinic's RMTs were all booked up every day.
I figured it was okay, I could just try a different massage place - and you can probably already see where this is going. It's going there.
I Googled for places and reviews and simply picked the highest rated one, since I could really use a massage. However I neglected to do two things: Include the actual "RMT" term as part of my search criteria and I did not actually read the reviews themselves. I just went by the grade - a solid 4.6! Hey, these people must be good, right? So I called, got an appointment and went over.
In my defense it just looked like a regular place, but perhaps I should have been tipped by the receptionist's... shall we say... unusually tight clothing. And yet I am not one to judge! If that's what the lady wanted to wear so be it, right? Right? So she lead me to this room where some things did seem off, and alarms started (too late) to go off in my head, so I started thinking maybe this is a terrible mistake, but I'd committed to the course at that point. Why was there a shower in the room? Why did she quote a number for the full hour half of what the RMT clinic charged? And why was she really, really surprised I wanted to use my card to pay instead of cash? Like... she had to run back to her desk and figure out how the card reader worked.
Yeeeah at this point it looked like mistakes had been made but this was all at noon in a mall between a bunch of corporate buildings. Surely business people did not... like, no way. Surely. I was being paranoid.
So when the massage person finally came she was also dressed in a really, really liberal fashion. So far nothing had gone truly awry, yet in my emerging panic I had no real way of asking - politely - if this is what I signed up for or not. Dammit, how do you even start that conversation?
And then finally (thanks, lady) she asked if I wanted the regular massage or 'the enhanced one'.
Okay, look, at this point I had to ask. I had practically left myself no choice - so I did. "... What's the enhanced one?", which she told me (for the uninformed, the reduced cost was because the tip wasn't included.... please, no puns).
Long story short I came clean, which I'm sure she probably knew as well well before I did. Things stopped there, but I did leave a tip for her time anyway since I was taking her time away from properly paying customers.
Following all this I did need to call my S.O. since, well, that charge on my card might not have looked great in retrospect. She couldn't stop laughing about it then and to this day she's been repeating the story with coworkers and friends with wild impunity.
This is my story. There are many like it, but this one is mine.