"Massage" Clarity

OK. I've recieved a bit of concern about my one-time frequenting of the massage parlor here in the greater China area. Some of you are doubting my intentions...or at least the business establishments that are running these 'oasis's of release.'
So I must admit that some of you did plant a wee seed of doubt as to the innocence of such a business.
So just to make sure it was a respectable establishment, I went back this past weekend. You know, just to make sure there was no "funny stuff" going on.
So my friend George and I went back on saturday. We started off with the normal 50 RMB (7 bucks) for almost 2 hours of hand to foot loving. Still the same dog and pony show as the last week. The only difference this time was the use of flaming miniature glass fish bowls that were put on my foot like a plunger. F'n thing was hot but supposidly sucked all the toxins out or my feet.
Yet this time at the end, the massage girls wanted to know if we wanted "more". For another 50 RMB they would rub our backs, shoulders, and face for one hour more...playing with your ears cost an extra 20 RMB. I tried to show them that I have little ears and to only charge me half, but in the end they thought I was just some freak with an ear fetish.
So we took the bait and bought an additional hour.
We were then lead out of our previous room, past a locked door and into a musty hotel hallway.
"George?" I asked. "Why are all the lights in this hallway pink and red?"
--"Maybe they're better for sleeping" he replyed.

We were lead to the end of the hallway into a room with 2 legit massage tables. About halfway throught the 2nd act of the massage adventure, this young massuses hands drift down to my lower back and on into the crack of my ass.
"George?" I asked. "Why are her hands in the crack of my ass?"
--"Oh. Shes just trying to get you amped up to buy the 800 RMB (80 dollar) special late night service."
As appetizing as it sounds to blow almost a third of my monthly paycheck on a bring-her-home-to-momma hoochie...I'll pass.
Thats when I heard it. It was almost on cue. The silence in our room was broken with the sound of a headboard repeatedly getting hammered against the wall in a nearby room.
"George, do you hear that?" I asked.
--"Yep, and I don't want to. Go to your happy place." he said.

So i closed my eyes, bit my lip, clenched my butt cheeks together to get her damn hand out of my arse, and finished the massage like any normal school boy would...with pleanty of dignity and money left in the wallet.

The worst part about the experience was walking past everyone on the way out. Because I had just been legitimately massaged for over 2 hours, I was walking all crooked, my eyes were all funky and relaxed, and I was still sweating from the high heat at which they kept the rooms...the impression could definitely be drawn that I now had a dirty story to tell my grandkids when an elder I became.
So mom, I promise you that my massage was innocent.
However I cannot say the same for the business establishment. Seems there is quite a bit of funny business/hanky panky...with the majority of the clientel being ranking members of the communist party. So it seems that hookers and Commies go together like peanut butter and jelly.

And what am I doing this weekend? I've heard rumors of yet another massage parlor...a cheaper massage parlor in town. 15 RMB an hour! 2 bucks an hour! I'm betting that this one is a whole lot more respectable. Let ya know soon ma.

T. Willy