This is going to be a really negative review. You have been warned, so if anyone thinks it's flaming, just hit the 'back' key and go to another thread.
Thinking that someone like Saleena was a bit expensive for me, I tried the two young asian girls that advertise as "Masters of Art & Massage" in the Courier. I was quoted $40.00 for the hour session and an additional $40.00 for a hand release. Sounded okay and I made the appointment.
When I arrived I was ushered into the clean basement room by Jessica. Chinese, no tits, pale skin wearing socks and sandals and t-shirt and shorts. (Don't you just hate it when they get all dressed up for their money!).
Was told that the price quoted was correct, but if I wanted topless it was another $40.00. I declined. But if I paid another $20.00 (total $100.00 I could have 2 girls for 1/2 hour, and for a total of $120.00 I could have 2 girls for 1 hour. What the hell, I thought, since the first one was so plain looking, maybe the extra $20.00 would be worthwhile. Nope, it wasn't, as the other girl, while pleasant, was a 5 in the "L" department.
So the massage starts. Talk about lame. One rubs my leg in the same spot for ten minutes without any extracurricular activity, and the other merely presses her palms onto my back for ten minutes.
Then the cell phone starts to ring and Jessica actually answeres it and gives directions to some guy who is trying to book an appointment. She hangs up and resumes the lacklustre effort of a massage, only to have the "mood" disturbed by someone in the other room banging pots and pans around in the kitchen.
As if I haven't made up my mind by now to never, ever repeat, Jessica answeres the cell phoe again to give more directions to the same guy who is too stupid to find the house, or the street, or perhaps Burnaby!
At that point I roll over on my back and tell Jessica to leave the room and take the cell phone with her. I have been disturbed enough. I did it politely so as not to offend, simply saying that I wasn't used to these disturbances and I couldn't relax.
So she leaves and the other girl (don't remember her name, and it wouldn't be worthwhile taking up any brain cells to store it) pours about a gallon of oil on Mr. Phlacid and starts giving it a h.j. like she had been put on auto-pilot. Good grief, don't these girls even know that it is supposed to be hard first!
I figure if I can just concentrate, I can blow my load and this joint as quickly as possible. I finish and am offered a cold, wet towel but no shower. Just as well, I would rather be at work than with these two.
On the way out Jessica tells me she is sorry for the interuption with the cell phone and hopes I will return, and (get this) tells me to bring more money next time so I can stay the hour and get a topless massage.
Yeah, right!
Looks: 5
Service: 2
Attitude: 3
Repeat: after I've died.
ps: I've heard of taking one for the team, but f*** I think I have been mortally wounded from this.
Thinking that someone like Saleena was a bit expensive for me, I tried the two young asian girls that advertise as "Masters of Art & Massage" in the Courier. I was quoted $40.00 for the hour session and an additional $40.00 for a hand release. Sounded okay and I made the appointment.
When I arrived I was ushered into the clean basement room by Jessica. Chinese, no tits, pale skin wearing socks and sandals and t-shirt and shorts. (Don't you just hate it when they get all dressed up for their money!).
Was told that the price quoted was correct, but if I wanted topless it was another $40.00. I declined. But if I paid another $20.00 (total $100.00 I could have 2 girls for 1/2 hour, and for a total of $120.00 I could have 2 girls for 1 hour. What the hell, I thought, since the first one was so plain looking, maybe the extra $20.00 would be worthwhile. Nope, it wasn't, as the other girl, while pleasant, was a 5 in the "L" department.
So the massage starts. Talk about lame. One rubs my leg in the same spot for ten minutes without any extracurricular activity, and the other merely presses her palms onto my back for ten minutes.
Then the cell phone starts to ring and Jessica actually answeres it and gives directions to some guy who is trying to book an appointment. She hangs up and resumes the lacklustre effort of a massage, only to have the "mood" disturbed by someone in the other room banging pots and pans around in the kitchen.
As if I haven't made up my mind by now to never, ever repeat, Jessica answeres the cell phoe again to give more directions to the same guy who is too stupid to find the house, or the street, or perhaps Burnaby!
At that point I roll over on my back and tell Jessica to leave the room and take the cell phone with her. I have been disturbed enough. I did it politely so as not to offend, simply saying that I wasn't used to these disturbances and I couldn't relax.
So she leaves and the other girl (don't remember her name, and it wouldn't be worthwhile taking up any brain cells to store it) pours about a gallon of oil on Mr. Phlacid and starts giving it a h.j. like she had been put on auto-pilot. Good grief, don't these girls even know that it is supposed to be hard first!
I figure if I can just concentrate, I can blow my load and this joint as quickly as possible. I finish and am offered a cold, wet towel but no shower. Just as well, I would rather be at work than with these two.
On the way out Jessica tells me she is sorry for the interuption with the cell phone and hopes I will return, and (get this) tells me to bring more money next time so I can stay the hour and get a topless massage.
Yeah, right!
Looks: 5
Service: 2
Attitude: 3
Repeat: after I've died.
ps: I've heard of taking one for the team, but f*** I think I have been mortally wounded from this.