Alright, time to blow your fucking minds. The last few ROAs were scribbled down with a serious tone; apologies to those who were looking for shenanigans. I promise this post will make up for it.
During the first week of my travels, I was brought to a bathhouse. Whenever you think of bathhouse (or massage parlor), you automatically think of 'happy endings' and other inappropriate things.
"Ain't that the truth," said Burgundy.
Anything can happen in a bathhouse, especially those situated in Asia and Europe, right? Well, let me tell you right now: there aren't any 'happy endings' or scandalous ladies in this story. But, it's a baller story no less.
For starters, this was no ordinary bathhouse. You needed a membership, and this membership costs around $40,000 CDN per year. A businessman I know took me to the facility and gave me the grand treatment. I wasn't sure what to expect; despite being rich myself, I have never actually been a member to any pristine clubhouse or society, mostly because I don't feel the need to pamper myself. I get pampered enough from my sex-crazed secretaries.
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| Get back to work, Vanessa. |
Anyways, I was taken to a downtown skyscraper in Shanghai. I was a bit confused because I thought the bathhouse would have been located in the outskirts of town, away from all the urban structures. I looked at the skyscraper and said, "Here?"
"Yes, here we are," said the businessman.
We went in through the main doors. No big surprises; a pair of revolving doors, a few stairs, white walls. It was kind of dull, actually. Then, we hit the elevators and went up some fifteen floors.
"The bathhouse is fifteen floors up?" I asked.
"Yes," said the businessman.
My ears popped, and then the elevator doors opened. My eyes were shown a grand lobby, complete with heavy leather couches, mahogany tables and marble everything. Not necessarily my taste, but I could tell it was expensive.
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| Looked something like this. |
We walk to reception and are greeted by a service woman.
"Welcome back, Mr. Businessman," says the service woman.
"Hello," says the businessman. "I've brought company for this evening," he continues, tilting his head towards me. "We'll be having dinner here, but later."
"Fantastic," says the service woman. "Would you like a snack for the time being?"
"What a wonderful idea," said the businessman. "Yes, let's. And afterward we'd like to use the pools. Then follow that up with a back scrub. We'll grab dinner after that, and finish off with a 100 minute massage."
"... 100 minutes?" I ask.
The businessman looks at me and grins. "Yes," he says.
"Sounds great," replied the service woman. "Please follow me."
The service woman leads us to a room with lazy-boy couches and flat screens. The businessman and I sit, chat and are presented some snacks (a few spring rolls, soup appetizer and rice cakes). About a half hour passes before we see the service woman again.
"The pools are ready for you," she says.
"Thank you," said the businessman. "Let's go."
We get to the change rooms and the businessman looks at me. "Follow my lead," he says.
He opens a locker; I do the same. He grabs a pair of slippers from the bottom and slaps them on the ground; so do I. He begins unbuttoning every piece of clothing until he's completely naked; I do the same (with some hesitation). Then, he removes his glasses; I do too.
"SERVICE MAN!" screams the businessman, like a quarterback calling a play. "Run me a shower! And do the same for my friend here!"
I'm taken aback by the strict orders, mostly because I feel vulnerable from being naked. The businessman storms off toward the showers and pools; he moves fast (especially for a naked man). I try to follow, but my glasses are off and locked in the locker so my vision is limited. And for some bloody reason this bathhouse will give you all the slippers you'd ever need, but not a towel.
Through the magic of sonar, I find my way to the pools.
I'm completely naked, nearly blind, and I'm only wearing slippers. The businessman is already in one of the side rooms taking a shower, and I'm completely fucked.
"Would you like some assistance?" says a blurry figure that I cannot make out.
"Uh, why, yes, yes I would," I respond in shaky Mandarin.
"Right this way..." says the blurry figure.
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