I've been using this site as a very handy reference and, since I only induldge myself very infrequently, I've never really had much to report. Well, in the spirit of helping, here goes.
I found myself, earlier this week in the Don Mills / O'Connor area, with a couple of hours to kill. Remembering that there was a "new" place on Broadview that had advertised in both Now and Eye, I scooted over there for, hopefully, an enjoyable 1/2 hour.
Well, this 40-ish gal named Irena greets me at the door with a brisk "yes, what do you want?". Looking around, the place looked the same (perhaps a little more tastefully decorated) as any other number of places in the city. The shower was no cleaner, the tables no less creaky, the old bathrobe no less thread-bare. Ehhh, big deal, ambiance is over-rated sometimes.
Getting back to the room, I notice a receipt made out for the planned amount. Strange. However the passable Irena enters wearing much less then she had on when she greeted me and proceeds to give me an adequate massage. So far so good.
I flip, she proceeds with the front. Massages away, although I notice her holding back.
She stops and asks if I want my "hands, feet, and stomach" massaged? Huh, but ok? She looks at me as if I had just dug into my ass and sniffed my fingers.
She throws a towel over my crotch (?) massages my hands, then promptly says "Thats it. Thats massage". I suavely bring up the fact that, to me, she's left an important part out. She says "What? I massage your whole body. Its done" and walks out.
Now, call me dumb, but I can't imagine that many people (esp. women) think, well, time for a spa day, lets mosey over to to that darling place on Broadview. And we went through the usual crap of her asking if I've been there before and me lying, etc. etc.
What a rip. As I service I recommend not being as much of a shulb as me.
I found myself, earlier this week in the Don Mills / O'Connor area, with a couple of hours to kill. Remembering that there was a "new" place on Broadview that had advertised in both Now and Eye, I scooted over there for, hopefully, an enjoyable 1/2 hour.
Well, this 40-ish gal named Irena greets me at the door with a brisk "yes, what do you want?". Looking around, the place looked the same (perhaps a little more tastefully decorated) as any other number of places in the city. The shower was no cleaner, the tables no less creaky, the old bathrobe no less thread-bare. Ehhh, big deal, ambiance is over-rated sometimes.
Getting back to the room, I notice a receipt made out for the planned amount. Strange. However the passable Irena enters wearing much less then she had on when she greeted me and proceeds to give me an adequate massage. So far so good.
I flip, she proceeds with the front. Massages away, although I notice her holding back.
She stops and asks if I want my "hands, feet, and stomach" massaged? Huh, but ok? She looks at me as if I had just dug into my ass and sniffed my fingers.
She throws a towel over my crotch (?) massages my hands, then promptly says "Thats it. Thats massage". I suavely bring up the fact that, to me, she's left an important part out. She says "What? I massage your whole body. Its done" and walks out.
Now, call me dumb, but I can't imagine that many people (esp. women) think, well, time for a spa day, lets mosey over to to that darling place on Broadview. And we went through the usual crap of her asking if I've been there before and me lying, etc. etc.
What a rip. As I service I recommend not being as much of a shulb as me.