Tell the nice bat about your problem

"I'm feeling a bit lost." you say, glancing aside. "Directionless. I'm in community college, but I don't know what I'm doing there."

Chryssie nods seriously. "And how would you say you feel about this, Tony? Bored? Feeling you've lost your zest for life?"

You think about that. "Well, now that you mention it, yeah. I am bored. Nothing's seemed really engaging for a while."

Chryssie smiles warmly. "I thought so! Your spirit is roving, Tony. You've grown too detached. A child of Gaia like yourself needs to breathe deeply of the soil, plants, life! Your ancestors spent their whole lives with their hearts on the earth. You need a little touch of contact now and then, a little kiss, to keep you grounded. And I know just the thing for it."

Chryssie dashes over to what looks like an antique medicine chest, and rummages in a narrow drawer. With her back to you, you can see a cotton-ball tail, and, heavens above, an absolute dump truck of a behind, each curve clearly defined by her tight yoga pants. Is it some trick of the shadows, or does it all jiggle visibly when she walks? You bite your lip involuntarily.

She comes back with a tiny bottle of a pale yellow fluid. "What I think you need is some touch treatment. I prefer a holistic, syncretic approach that incorporates elements of reiki, ayurveda, and acupuncture. No needles, though. Just friendly touches!" She spreads her paws wide.

"So, a massage?" Whatever the ostensible spiritual basis, you wouldn't mind a massage. Especially from such a friendly and attractive personage as this one. You feel for your wallet. "How much?"

Chryssie looks surprised, as if she hadn't considered that. "Oh. Well, business has been slow, and I want to help you… how's twenty dollars sound?"