I had always wondered, with a mixture of fascination and repulsion, what goes on in those places. So I have to admit that I was more than a little intrigued when I found out that you knew the answers to my questions. In great detail. Early in our relationship, you told me that visiting massage parlors was one of the ways you tried to meet your needs during your long, sexless marriage.
Now, I have to confess up front that I am not comfortable with the thought of paying for sex, of any variety, in an industry that is not regulated and has so much potential for exploitation. But before I get into those issues, maybe you can pull back the curtain and change my mind. Tell me everything. HER: Well, I guess my first question is why did you choose to go to a massage parlour in the first place?
Why not pick up a girl in a bar? HIM: I was definitely craving actual human contact, but real people come with certain challenges. First of all, I was afraid that picking up a woman in a bar that is, if I even had the skills and confidence to do it would inevitably lead to her appearing on my doorstep someday to have it out with my wife.
Secondly, I was afraid of contracting a sexually transmitted disease. The massage parlor solved both dilemmas for me β human contact without emotional entanglement, and without penetration. Now that I think about it, though, there was another factor.
I liked that if I found myself with an hour to spare I could make a reasonably satisfying sexual encounter happen with certainty. HER: Okay. HIM: They generally look like slightly weird professional offices. No one wants to risk bumping into their boss, or their brother-in-law, or anyone else who could cause embarrassment.
