The Art of Avoiding the Sleazebags

Sometimes it's tough in my current line of work. There are a lot of clients (mostly male) that make me thoroughly and completely uncomfortable. My boss isn't the most understanding when it comes to my aversion to certain clients, after all, without them coming out and doing something obviously inappropriate I have only my gut feeling as evidence. It shouldn't matter to him any way. I pay rent to use my room and as long as it gets paid every month I don't see how my earning it concerns him.
I was always taught in massage school that you didn't need a reason to refuse treatment to a client, that your comfort level was just as important as theirs. If they made you uncomfortable in any way, you didn't need a reason to stop seeing them. Unfortunately, that's not the case. It's hard to have that tough conversation with a client in which you refuse service to them simply because they creep you out. Scratch that, it's impossible. So, I've had to come up with an alternative to being professional and handing out the unaltered truth. I alter it. That's right. I lie my ass off.
Take today for example. My boss phoned me yesterday and during the course of our conversation he casually mentioned that a client I despise had booked with me for the next evening. Now in normal circumstances that would suck, but this time was especially bad. He had taken the time slot when I would be completely alone with him in the clinic, everyone else having already gone home for the night. This especially bothered me because I found him all sorts of creepy. So creepy, that if policemen showed up on my doorstep and told me that he'd been arrested for being a serial killer I wouldn't be surprised.
I fretted and fussed all evening long until my sister made everything simple. She turned to me and said,
"Can't you just cancel?"
Hmmm, why couldn't I cancel? Why the hell did I feel like I needed a reason? For God's sakes I had one! He creeped me the fuck out!
The next day I called him and told him one hell of a beauty of a lie. I told him that my boss had not seen my note saying I was no longer working in the evenings and booked him in by mistake. And sorry to say, I simply could not stay late due to the fact that it was my grandfather's birthday and I couldn't miss it. (That's one of the things I love about writing, it's the perfect practice for lying). Needless to say he wasn't pleased. He couldn't make it out any other time but the evenings so sadly, we could no longer see each other. Delicious!
One creep down, oh so many more to go.