To Leo, With Horror

Just into my third round checking out the facilities and my little brother had suffered its eighth pinch, sneakily and professionally administered at the right moment and angle, to maximize on the element of surprise, rendering the victim shocked and helpless, thus ensuring that a swift escape was possible. The culprits, as high in volume as they were persistent, matched the standard stereotypical descriptions of thinning hair, greasy face, triple chin and colossal gut, with room to spare for foul-smelling breath and rotten teeth. Revenge by mean of reciprocation, of course, would be God-sent for them. I had to suffer the inconvenience of walking around with completely cupped private parts.

Over at the little lounge, the owner, dressed in chequered skimpy hotpants (and nothing more), was dashing around silly putting up the finishing touches of some decorations for the Chap Goh Meh event on a tiny stage. Joining her on stage was one of her fellow sisters, just now in the middle of a karaoke performance. It was a song from the 70s era I believe. The establishment’s very effective in-house sound system ensured full, uninterrupted coverage (complete with the haunting falsettos, out-of-tempo and off-key effects) to every crook and corner of the sauna, dirty cracks of the toilets and cum-stained ply-wood partitioned walls of the dark rooms not excluding.

The hunks, all gathered at the darkened lounge at the entrance of the maze, seemed too disinterested to show any form of reaction. Their shadows were the only thing that were moving, thrown onto the walls by candle lights from aromatherapy burners. These crème de la crème, top of the crop, objects of desire didn’t have to lift an eyebrow to have their egos blown out of proportion here. Any remotest hint of interest would go against their principles and throw their holy images to dirt. So here they sat, since time immemorial, to glorious eternity.

I stood, for the longest of time too, in front of a cement structure carelessly pieced together to hold a pool of muddy water that was being piped in from a few hoses running over the edges. I think it resembled a Jacuzzi.

Roy said we should leave. I thought I would love to stay for the party, but that was before I stepped on something mushy in the showers. It felt like a soaked lump of tissue paper, but of course the unmistakable stinting smell was no mistake at all.

Time to head home.