You know those places in town that call themselves health spas, but everyone knows they are totally whore houses?
I mean, what kind of health spa sets up shop in an old bait shop and puts bars and black out shades on every window?
You’re not fooling anyone, secret hookers!
Holy crap, I love those places.
In fact, the only thing I love more than the pseudo health spa whore houses themselves, is driving by super slow and trying to recognize the cars in the parking lot.
Because there are only about 2000 people in my town, and I need to know who not to share a straw or drug needle with.
I am also pretty sure there is a standard operations manual that all most likely illegal fake health spa whore houses follow.
They are all dark, moist and smell like egg rolls and vagina.
And I adore going in them, just to fulfill this weird need I have to prove to myself, and the 4 foot tall Asian lady at the desk with super long fake nails, that yes, I totally called it, this is completely a whore house. And because I am totally committed to my craft, I ask for the price list, and she gives it to me (they are always sticky), and we both pretend to be studying it, but are actually totally involved in a mental game of chicken, and we are just waiting it out to see who is going to pull out first, her before she is forced to line up her ladies for me to hand pick which 16 year old is going to rub me down, or me, before I realize this old 4 foot tall Asian lady is a total bad ass and is so not backing down, and plus, I still technically have an open wound on my back from when they removed that mole, so in the name of health, and extreme distaste for antibiotics, I better not let this whole thing get too out of hand, or I am going to leave this place with both a happy ending and a fungal infection.
So, I walk out.
But, I totally write down all the license plate numbers of the cars in the parking lot so I can sweet talk my friend at the BMV to look them up for me, and we can laugh at them.
And also not share food with them or kiss them on the mouth.
*I realize some people might find it distasteful that I just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl and am now writing a post about my interest in disease ridden probably underage hookers the day after Mothers Day. But, in the name of full disclosure, this post is from a collection of previously unpublished crap I never posted because posts that contain the words vagina and whore drive my mom to drink…more, and not talk to me for 3 days. So, now that I am too busy to post something current and of substance, whores and vaginas it is.
**There will be plenty of sore boob and nummy baby posts.
****Plus I just watched Risky Business, and I love categorizing people I meet that I think may totally be a prostitute into either the type of hooker that has sex with teenagers on dark trains, or the type who can drive a mean stick shift and punch out Jason Alexander.
{ 47 comments… read them below or add one }
I want to come visit you…I think you could show me a proper good time…that is all.
Bait shops and whore houses: both filled with smelly, squishy, pink things that are probably already dead. Why didn’t I see the connection before? And why hasn’t someone franchised this concept?
I totally drive by the 25 cent movie place really slow so that I can check out the cars, I always look for parking passes from my husband’s office.
I wish I could walk into one of those places like that, it would be so fun!! darn me and my wussiness
Dude.
You are insane! And I love you!
I got a gift certificate to a spa for mother’s day….now I’m a little worried!
Bwahahaha! Distasteful? Whats THAT?!
sooooo, here in my neck o’ the woods- there are so many of these places that they did indeed actually pass health laws about them. and get this- CLOTHING RESTRICTIONS. So who the hell checks those? Oh yeah, the state workers that visit those places anyway!
I’m glad you’re being careful and not sharing your drug needles with the dirty whoremongers.
I would love to walk into one of those places just for the heck of it LOL I’m way to much of a wuss though – oh well, I can live through you!
Now you see… I’d be too afraid everyone who saw me go in (and in small towns we all know everyone sees (especially mine)… or at least they know someone who saw it and well that’s practically the same so they’ll just *say* they saw you).. Uh where was I? Oh yeah – I’d be too afraid everyone who saw me would totally think that I worked there, be completely repulsed and then stop going there themselves – because they wouldn’t want to get ‘stuck’ with me. Then the owner would be all pissed at me for ruining their reputaion and come throw eggs at my house. But then none of my neighbors would stick up for me because I’m just some whore that’s single handedly ruined the local economy.
You’re a braver woman than I.
eggrolls and moist vaginas. mmmmm…
we had a place lik e that in the small town where i grew up and my mom insisted on driving thought the parking lot to check license plates every time we passed it. my grandparents once went inside thinking it was a restaurant. haha
You have a contact who can look up plates for you? That’s so cool. You could totally pull a Gabriel Solis (from Desp.Housewives) and force people to buy you pretty things and stuff. Hilarious!
Of course I’m kidding about the blackmail, but it would be hilarious to see them squirm when you mention the place – casually, of course
Wow. another strong Britt post. nice I liked it. I hope you had a very nice Mother’s Day.
I totally love a good massage story with a ‘happy ending’.
This is my first time here and I’m glad to see someone dedicated to their craft. And whorehouses!
Funny as always!
I have never heard of/seen these bait/nail/ hooker places? Where do you live, girl??
I love the categorizing of the hookers! Don’t forget Shelley Long in “Night Shift”! She would be the hooker who wears a fur coat and sleeps with the Fonz.
You always make me laugh! Contrats on the new baby!
Well i have neither babies nor sore boobs… but I do love me a good small town, middle america whorehouse story to get me through the work day!
Seriously? Wow…they had me fooled.
There is a place like this in my neighborhood (a massage parlor/beauty supply store) that I think is actually NOT a whore house, but it looks so much like a whore house they have signs up everywhere inside reading such things as:
- NO SEX!
- DO NOT ASK FOR SEX!
- WE DON’T DO SEX!
Maybe they are overcompensating?
I have always wanted to do that. Not that I know where any of these places exist in my fair city, but I’m sure I could figure it out … And what’s wrong with black shades? I didn’t know I lived in a whorehouse…
So, what do the small-town people think when they see you walking out?
I would totally run into my grandmother.
I for one appreciate your use of the word whore and vagina!
Happy Mother’s Day! I hope you get a “massage” from the “spa”. If you are into that kind of thing.
You absolutely know how to have a good time. Maybe a Mother’s Day gift certificate for one of these lovely establishments?
Actually, I think it’s almost boringly conventional to spend your post-partum period hitting up sleazy “health spas” with a Snuggli strapped to your chest. Gimme something edgy!
So should I be worried that my hubby wanted a gift certificate from the health spa for Father’s Day? Damn Hookers, they ruin everything!
I always wanted to go in one of those places, but never had the cajones. The one in my neighborhood actually has a website. I know this, because I was trying to find a spa in town and when I clicked on their site it had photos of half-naked Eastern European masseurs and a “members only” section. Eastern European massage hookers is a sure sign of a high class neighborhood.
Well there you have it, whores and vaginas it is. Little FYI, I just learned strip joints are all painted purple outside so you can easily identify them. Never knew and now you do too.
Saw this and thought of you….
http://www.ifboobscouldtalk.com/home.html
My favorite are the places that don’t even try to be discreet about it. There is one on my route home from work, right alongside a major freeway interchange. It is a dingy old house with peeling paint that’s been converted into a “business”. It has a giant handpainted sign that reads “Massage Parlor” and there are always half dressed Asian women sitting on the sagging porch. Hmmmm, I wonder where they got their “beauty license”?
Distasteful? Huh? The only that sounds distasteful to me in this post is the combination of egg rolls and vagina. Yikes.
I used to go into the adult bookstore just outside of town and make all the men customers totally self-conscious. Now I’m in the Bible-Belt, so I go into churches and make all the pompous-self-righteous religious people totally self-conscious. Never gets old, does it?
Jen and I have bestowed unto you a lovely and marvelous blog award…
Come on by and check it out.
http://www.momalom.com/2009/05/i-grant-theea-lovely-award_13.html
Cheers, fabulous blogger, cheers! Cheers for making me think, harder than I usually can on most days, and for making me laugh…harder than I usually should on most days.
Sarah
Momalom.com
I think I’m going to vomit the next time my boss walks in the room. (Owner of some pretty big-time strip clubs – and NO, I don’t dance for them or anything! I am a number cruncher, dammit, MUCH MORE EXCITING!) Either vomit or jump his bones to get my own little piece of Americana. Hmmm.
hmmmm…we just have crack houses here. No whore houses.
Hahaha! I gotta try going into one of those soon just so I can look at the menu of services!
I just found your blog 2 days ago, & have the spent the last few days totally unproductive & read YOUR ENTIRE BLOG. I’ve never done that w/another blog before, btw. I LOVE it!
When I get preggo, I’m so going to email you all my gross body questions
I’m sure the prospect excites you to no end…
But the fact that you post about bait shop whore spas that smell like vagina and egg rolls the day after Mother’s Day is the main reason I love reading you.
I hate those blogs where everything is all sugar and spice and diaper pins 24/7. Ugh.
Why do I crack up laughing after reading stuff like that? Is it because I do the same things? I need to stop. Or you need to stop. Somebody needs to stop. Okay, nobody will really ever stop…that’s why I gave you an award over at my blog. Check it out.
You are being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/05/five-star-friday-edition-54.html
I liked this post.
PS – I was walking into the bank yesterday, and a guy yelled out his window, “How much?!” That’s not good. I feel like a whore.
It is remarkable, this very valuable opinion
THIS is my favorite. WHen people ask me what famous person dead or alive I would want to have dinner with….It would totally be John Mayer but you would be a very close second!!
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Lady Hatch