Sex Sells…..Sometimes
Penned By Anthony S. Darke
No reproduction or copying without permission from the author. All rights reserved.
This a story of fiction. Any possible relation to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
I’ll never forget that night. People might think running a massage parlor is easy, or fun. But I’m here to tell you that’s not true. Truthfully it’s a thankless, emotionally taxing job. The girls who work there are unreliable; many of them are drug addicts, alcoholics, unwed mothers, and so on. You never knew if they are going to show up or not. The cops are always looking for a freebie, or a payoff. Of course, the owners are no Prince Charmings either. They take a big cut of the profits and leave the girls with only enough to get by. But the worst, the absolute worst part of the business, are the customers. You never knew who is going to walk in that door. It could be somebody as gentle as a bunny rabbit, or it could be the wolf man.
But while I’m sitting here sipping vodka in a warm bath and having a drag of my cigarette, let me tell what occurred that strange night.
My name is Jenny. Not that it matters. I could be Suzie, April, Rita, whatever. The massage parlor business lends to all kinds of names for the girls. I was the night manger of the Blue Tail club on the outskirts of town. The only way to get to the place is by car or a bus. And since the buses stop running after midnight a car is the only way. The Tail, as most people refer to it, isn’t the worst of the massage parlors, but if you don’t mind spending fifty bucks an hour to get yourself pawed over by some girl who might have needle tracks on her arms, go for it.
I was working at the front desk; yeah, I greet you with a smile, bat my false eyelashes at you, and twirl my bleached blonde hair too if necessary, all while I ask you if this is going to be Cash, Credit, or Check.
And ,of course, you pay up front. You tell me which girl you want and, if she’s there and not busy, she takes you to one of the rooms where you strip down to your shorts, climb on a table and let her do her thing.
And just in case you think that some other activities go on, you know what I mean, let me tell you that’s not so. A massage is all you get for your money. No sex. And that, kiddies, is where all the trouble began.
It was about quarter after two in the morning. Bobbie was hanging out with me at the front desk. It was a slow night and we were the only two there. Bobbie’s one of the best. A hot looking brunette with killer boobs who knows how to schmooze the customers.
“I’m bushed,” she said.
“Why so tired?” I asked.
“I finally got rid of my deadbeat boyfriend. I got fed up with coming home after working all night and finding him passed out on the couch from too much beer and weed.”
“Good for you,” I said.
“Yeah, but he took his car so I lost my wheels. I had to take the bus tonight," she said, then smiled. “But I didn’t let him leave without getting something in return,” she added. “Remember how I told you he was a gun nut. Well, look what I got.”
She giggled, took her purse from under the counter and opened it.
“A gun!” I said.
“Yeah, I stole one of his guns, “ she said. “In case he comes back I’m ready for him.”
That girl was something. Just then the door opened. A familiar sight walked in.
“Herbie,” I said. “Nice to see you.”
Herbie was a bit of a pitiful creature. Divorced. Retired accountant. Lived alone. Short. Paunchy. Lonely. But he loved the Blue Tail. And he was perfectly harmless.
“The usual?” I said.
“Oh, yes,” he said, beaming at Bobbie like a lost sheep finding its shepard.
She smiled back. “I’ll go get things ready,” she said.
Herbie always paid with cash. Didn’t trust banks. Guess as an accountant he knew something about them we didn’t.
In a flash Bobbie was back. “Ready?” she said.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, and accepted Bobbie’s arm. The two of them sauntered off like they were going to the senior prom.
That gave me a chance to kick back for awhile and relax. I turned on the small television under the front desk hoping I could find an old black and white detective movie to watch. As I sat back I looked out the window and saw a big bright white full moon ruling a pitch black sky.
A little while later Bobbie led Herbie out of the massage room, a big smile plastered across his face.
“Next week, again?” Bobbie said.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” good ‘ol Herbie agreed.
It’s always nice to see customers satisfied. They come back. We waved to him as he left.
“Now back home to his parrot,” Bobbie said.
“Take a break,” I said.
“Yeah, I will,” she said.
She went to the employee’s lounge in the back, and I went back to my movie. But my cinema indulgence was not to last long. The front door opened and immediately I felt like somebody had thrown me into a straight jacket.
It was him again. The tall dude with the dumpster clothes and piercing eyes that made you feel like you were wearing nothing, or were laid out on a plate with an apple stuffed in your mouth. He didn’t come to the Tail often but when he did the whole place just seemed to go into freak out mode. Even the other customers remarked about what a total creep he was.
And now, at about three in the morning, here he was looking me over like a bull at a red flag.
“Yes, can I help you?” I said, hoping my voice wouldn’t crack.
“Bobbie,” was all he said. Yeah, he always wanted Bobbie. He had a thing for her. Lucky her. And lucky me, she was working tonight.
“For how long?” I asked.
“Hour,” he said, in some kind of weird accent.
“Credit? Check? Ca-“ I was saying when he plopped fifty bucks on the counter.
“Ok, I’ll call her up front,” I said, reaching for the money. And as I did he brushed his hand against mine and I thought I would jump right out of my chair. I had all to do to keep from crying out. And it was the first time I noticed just how large, thick, and hairy his hands were. And so damn ugly!
Bobbie came to the front and the moment she saw him I knew she wanted to run and hide. But a customer’s a customer and his money was good.
“Ok, this way” she said to him, and cast me a pleading look like ‘are you really gonna make me do this?’
As he walked past the desk I could’ve swore there was a dog in the room. And one that really needed a bath.
Back to my movie, I could only hope things were ok with Bobbie.
“You feel more relaxed now?” she said.
He kind of grunted.
She was glad it was over. The guys with all the hair over their bodies were not her cup of tea. And this guy was like a sheep dog.
“More, “ he mumbled.
“Next time,” she said. “I’m on break now.”
“No. Now,” he insisted.
“Look, you can schedule another massage with me up fr---“
“No. No massage. You.”
“What?”
She looked at him puzzledly. But the stare in his eyes suddenly told her everything.
“Hey, now look here. I don’t do anything like that. You better get out of here now before I call the-“
His face changed, transformed is the word, from human to well… wolf! Yeah. That’s what I said. Wolf!
He became a werewolf!
His disgustingly hairy body was now fully covered in thick coarse hair…or is that fur?
Whatever. He had fangs, claws, animal eyes, he growled, and then ….he howled!
I just ab
out fell out of my chair when I heard it, being nice and relaxed as I was and really into the movie I was watching.
Bobbie began screaming.
Then she came running out of the back room with a look of terror on her face I never thought it possible to see.
“What the hell happened!” I said.
“He..he…he. I…I.”
“That sounded like a wolf!” I said.
She nodded her head so hard I thought it was going to flip off.
“Yeah…wolf… wolf,” she said.
Banging noises came from the back.
“What happened?” I said.
“He…he just changed. He turned into a werewolf! Tried to attack me!”
As nutty unbelievable as it sounded I believed her. If there was anybody I’ve pegged as turning into werewolf it was that creepy eye guy.
“We gotta get out of here!” Bobbie said. “Like now!”
“I’ll call the cops!” I said.
But as I reached for the phone the banging noises got louder.
“What’s that?” I asked her.
“I locked him in the room. But it sounds like he’s getting out! Let’s go!”
“We’ll run to my car,” I said.
But then we heard the door breaking open. We both knew we’d never make it to the rear parking lot in time.
“We’ve got to hide!” Bobbie said.
“In the lounge,” I said.
“Ok,” Bobbie said, and we started off. Then she stopped.
“My purse!”
We ran to the back just as the wolfy guy was breaking through the door.
We slammed the lounge door behind us and locked it.
“Whew,” Bobbie said. “That was close. What are we going to do?”
“Damn!” I said. “My cell phone’s in the dressing room. “
Rule was, no cell phones at the front desk.