It’s that time of the month again.
Maybe I’ve been having a good week and want to top it off. Maybe I’ve been having a bad week and need to help myself relax. Maybe I just got waxed and am feeling extra sensitive.
Either way, I’m parked right outside the venue with my engine off; my car lit up by the flashing neon sign in the shape of a foot mounted on the side of the building.
I walk a straight line from my car to the staircase and then knock on the locked glass door so that the boss will buzz me in. Once inside, I ask if “X” is available; X being whoever my favourite masseuse of the moment is. Having been coming to this place for almost the past ten years, I’ve had many different favourites. Sometimes they quit the life, sometimes they move away to other branches, or sometimes I just discover someone I like more; someone who ends up being my new favourite.