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- Aug 8, 2009
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So my buddy and I get out of the bar at 2am and we're sick of all the drink whores, snobby chicks, etc... It doesn't take a drink to make me want to go get a rub but with a couple in me the urge is almost irresistable. Not to mention the liquid nerve that makes me invulnerable to the nervousness that might otherwise prevail when going to a spa.
Two problems: I'm not entirely sure where we are and buddy has never been for a massage. So I have to act like some kind of surreal tour guide to a new experience in a land I know nothing about... somewhere in Mississauga.
My mind is swimming with fragments of directions from various MP websites and reviews from massageplanet.net. In my drukuness, I blurt out some directions to the cab driver who takes us to Haines road only for me to find that Silhouette is closed. Brown's Line... three MPs within spitting distance, and they're all closed. After some strong words and a good long piss in some alley, the cabbie asks what we're looking for and when I tell him I want a f**kin' massage, he says, "Why didn't you tell me!?"
We've already spent too much on cab fare but he says he knows of a place that is still open so in my desperation, I trust him to guide us. Big mistake.
He takes us to a place that I'd never heard of. Classic Spa on Brunel. I'm not in a position or mood to argue so I take my buddy in after giving him some advice about how much to pay and what to do.
The lady at the front desk leads me into a room, tells me to shower and leaves after taking $50 for the room. My two first mistakes: Paying more than a $40 room fee and not insisting on picking my attendant.
The place is nice enough with a shower in the room and it's clean and nicely decorated.
Soon, Mandy enters the room. She's a little plain and round on the edges but she's female and the beer goggles are on so fine. Besides, I can only put up so much of a fight when I'm naked in front of a strange women.
First words out of her mouth, after I agree to a NR - which was as far as the menu went - "nobody touches her pusssy" (and that it's not a matter of money honey, so don't ask) and that her breasts are very sensitive and can't be touched too much. Oh boy! This should be fun!
Crappy crap crap. What can I say. After a bad massage, a crappy reverse and ten minutes of her pounding my balls into the table trying to make me finish, I payed her $50 to leave me alone, showered and met my equally dissapointed buddy in the waiting room.
Apparently, he got pretty much the same treatment by a girl that probably should have been paying him. I saw her and I had to agree. While Mandy was passable, the girl he got probably shouldn't have been there at all.
I complained to the lady at the front and even offered to let her make good on it by comping the room fee on another session with girls that weren't so restrictive but she admitted that we probably wouldn't be much happier with anyone else she had.
After many apologies and promises to make it up to him next time, my buddy agreed to let me take him to SRM some time. We left, unsatisfied and out $100 each. Plus cab fare.
Repeat after me: "I will never visit a sub-standard spa again!"
Two problems: I'm not entirely sure where we are and buddy has never been for a massage. So I have to act like some kind of surreal tour guide to a new experience in a land I know nothing about... somewhere in Mississauga.
My mind is swimming with fragments of directions from various MP websites and reviews from massageplanet.net. In my drukuness, I blurt out some directions to the cab driver who takes us to Haines road only for me to find that Silhouette is closed. Brown's Line... three MPs within spitting distance, and they're all closed. After some strong words and a good long piss in some alley, the cabbie asks what we're looking for and when I tell him I want a f**kin' massage, he says, "Why didn't you tell me!?"
We've already spent too much on cab fare but he says he knows of a place that is still open so in my desperation, I trust him to guide us. Big mistake.
He takes us to a place that I'd never heard of. Classic Spa on Brunel. I'm not in a position or mood to argue so I take my buddy in after giving him some advice about how much to pay and what to do.
The lady at the front desk leads me into a room, tells me to shower and leaves after taking $50 for the room. My two first mistakes: Paying more than a $40 room fee and not insisting on picking my attendant.
The place is nice enough with a shower in the room and it's clean and nicely decorated.
Soon, Mandy enters the room. She's a little plain and round on the edges but she's female and the beer goggles are on so fine. Besides, I can only put up so much of a fight when I'm naked in front of a strange women.
First words out of her mouth, after I agree to a NR - which was as far as the menu went - "nobody touches her pusssy" (and that it's not a matter of money honey, so don't ask) and that her breasts are very sensitive and can't be touched too much. Oh boy! This should be fun!
Crappy crap crap. What can I say. After a bad massage, a crappy reverse and ten minutes of her pounding my balls into the table trying to make me finish, I payed her $50 to leave me alone, showered and met my equally dissapointed buddy in the waiting room.
Apparently, he got pretty much the same treatment by a girl that probably should have been paying him. I saw her and I had to agree. While Mandy was passable, the girl he got probably shouldn't have been there at all.
I complained to the lady at the front and even offered to let her make good on it by comping the room fee on another session with girls that weren't so restrictive but she admitted that we probably wouldn't be much happier with anyone else she had.
After many apologies and promises to make it up to him next time, my buddy agreed to let me take him to SRM some time. We left, unsatisfied and out $100 each. Plus cab fare.
Repeat after me: "I will never visit a sub-standard spa again!"