Viewing the local antiquities

In all the Victoriaville brothels I've ever been in, the language of the house has been Korean. And all the arrangements and accommodations have been variations on a theme:

You enter through a 24/7-ajar outer door, often with an "Open" sign, then encounter an inner door, where you ring the bell to get buzzed in. Many houses train a security camera on the inner door, so the whores may greet their regulars, or unwanted vistors can be screened.

If the building is very small or old, the inner door may give on a simple foyer, but more often you enter a waiting room with one or two couches, a wide-screen TV, perhaps a crimson-and-gold painted shrine glowing with red Christmas bulbs, holding offerings of fruit, most often dusty. A curtained doorway leads to the whores' quarters, where (I suppose) they sleep, crash, paint their nails and do their hair, change into their uniforms, gossip, share tips, and prosecute feuds and rivalries. If your whore has not already collected you at the door, the mama-san greets you, brings one out to you, or presents you with a selection from which you may choose. Sometimes, they display themselves on the couches.

Your whore leads you upstairs, or down a hallway. Mostly the carpeting is red, but at least not outdoor. A kitchenette may be off the hallway, a sauna, a storage room, but there is always at least one table shower room. Assume a long hallway, with eight cubes hence eight whores at a time, then figuring conservatively: 8 * ([50] (house) + [100] (whore)) * 3 * 265 = [954,000].

And like you, perhaps, she works in a cube, although one with a ceiling and a door (brass number, hollow, cheap hardware) that will lock. There is a Japanese-style gridded screen, a chair, or an exercise machine to hang your clothes on, a nightstand with kleenex, oils, lube, and nothing in the drawers. Sometimes a boombox, red digits low glowing. Always wall mirror along a low bed or mattress with towels folded at the foot. The mattress will be solid, resilient with no springs, not hard, like a futon.

At 2111, the walls and the ceiling were spackled with glitter: Take him and cut him out in little stars: The Milky Way, in a dim pink sky.

And of course a bowl of cellophane wrapped red-and-white swirly striped peppermints in a bowl next the door, so the departing guest can sweeten his mouth.


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All characters and situations fictional. Copyright (c) 2003-2007 by "John Psmyth."
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