Needless to say, after all those shots without doing any good, I said enough is enough and walked out never to return. And it wasn't pressure that was causing my white knuckle clutching of the chair, or the cussing coming out of my mouth. It was kind of funny when I walked out and looked at the kid waiting to be next - he was white as a ghost, and if his mom wouldn't of been clutching his arm, he'd of probably been at least a mile away still hauling ass.
