A cold wind whipped down 32nd Street and whistled through the menus for the Korean barbecue places before wending its way to Herald Square. A sheaf of papers pulled by the passing breeze blew by my feet as I ambled eastward and, looking left, I saw the source. A bunch of cardboard boxes on the curb had blown open and the contents were swirling in little paper eddies in the sky. Protruding prominently from one box, I spotted a large hardcover volume and pulled it out for further inspection.
"Massage Parlor: An Owner's Manual" was the title, authored by Jack Uhoff and Mercy Rubintug. I opened it up and looked at the table of contents. The topics jumped out at me. "Ad Pics and Where to Find Them." "The Ancient Art of the Upsell." "Plumbing."
I flipped eagerly to the "Plumbing" section and found a series of table shower diagrams...not the sort of plumbing I had hoped to see, but I was intrigued. I stuck the tome under my arm and brought it home, and have periodically dragged it out as a point of reference.
Yesterday, I happened to be in Queens - naturally, as you might expect from a man of my royal stature, I spend more time in the county of Kings, but Queens has plenty to offer and I am game to dabble when I can. I decided to make a side trip to Wonder Girls, a popular place noted for relatively young women, cute denim shorts, and the presence of two table showers under one roof. If that's not a winning combination, I don't know what is. A place in Queens fit for a King? I was destined to judge for myself.
An excerpt from "Massage Parlor: An Owner's Manual":
When they put Wonder Girls together they got almost everything basically right. The entrance is pretty non-descript and the location is just far enough from significant foot traffic to be fairly discreet.
Clearly the presence of dual table showers demonstrates rock-solid thinking in anticipation of volume business and is absolutely a feather in their caps. The place is clean and the rooms have real walls and doors.
Here's the thing - I have no idea whether the space was built for "legit" massage or what, but the short walls are a little bit of an issue here only because the visual privacy is so complete, you can easily forget that it's all basically one big room and that everyone can hear you. So...the illusion of privacy seems to encourage talking at conversational volumes which in turn is a bit too loud for the reality of the situation. Yes, monger who arrived at 11:30 am Friday and had a 4 or 5 minute "outside voice" conversation about the difference between the half hour and hour house fees, I'm talking about you...and yes, 40 plus 40 does equal 80 but monger math is special.
Apart from that, this is a perfectly fine place. I'm not sure I can fully appreciate the comments about the music - when I was there it was inoffensive sort of light jazz that I would never choose personally but was a welcome change from faux-Eastern muzak, for my money.
Another excerpt from "Massage Parlor: An Owner's Manual":
I was greeted by Sara, a cute girl I would guess somewhere in her late 20's. She told me she was 25 - I don't usually ask, but for some reason she showed an interest in me and asked my age so I thought it was only fair to return the favor. She's got a good solid body - particularly her nice B cups and full bottom half. She was the only girl I saw, though I believe there were two others hanging around in the shadows. She was playful and professional by turns - I half expected an absence of warmth and abundance of upsell here based on what I've read, but I am pleased to say I encountered neither.
Don't get me wrong - this girl is young and attractive, she has a nice full body and expressive eyes. Would you give her a second look in the subway? I probably would, but I get pretty bored on the train. As a general matter, for me its as much about things like sense of humor, empathy, and courtesy than cup size. Sara was professional but sharp-witted and even let her guard down a little with me and some sweetness showed through.
Again, an excerpt from "Massage Parlor: An Owner's Manual":
The massage was a workmanlike, professional accupressure-style rub. Perfectly average, good enough to relax you a bit but if you need a real massage I'll give you some numbers to call.
A final excerpt from "Massage Parlor: An Owner's Manual":
The post-flip service here is standard, every day handjob. and I'll bet you a New Year's Eve dinner date with my Shame Sherpa (if you don't know, don't ask...) there's minimal variation in the routine. YMAGVVMAA - your mileage ain't gonna vary very much at all.
Sara licked her way up the back of each leg and then planted a kiss on my ass, which made me laugh. She licked her way up the front of each leg, and of course I paused...hoping for the obvious...and she...kissed...my belly.
She oiled my cock as I put my hand on her ass, which felt very nice and firm. As her hand got faster and faster, I ran my hand over her nice, small but full breasts. I slid my hand under her shirt and into her bra, where I felt her hard nipples. And...I felt her hard nipples...and I felt her hard nipples...this was taking a long time. She shifted arms, I could tell she was committed, though, and wasn't going to give up. She kept at it until finally I came.
All things considered, Sara did a nice buildup that promised the world...and delivered a chunk of the Northern Hemisphere which was perfectly fine but an hour later I was hungry again.
Which worked out fine, because it was lunchtime and I was headed back to Koreatown. Who knew what the afternoon might bring?
My cost was 60 house and 60 tip. Broadly speaking, this trip might have been a disaster for me if Sara hadn't been quite so cute and nice. Replace her with someone who was principally about the ancient art of upsell, and the house of cards would start to collapse. My guess is that the varying impressions of the place aren't really about mileage differences as much as they are about attitude differences. The feeling that you're a valuable client, and not someone who's just there to have your wallet picked clean makes all the difference in the world when you've got to choose between two places that deliver roughly the same service for approximately the same price.