It’s 11 o’clock and I need some ice cream.
My hotel is across the street from a McDonald’s. I can lookout my window and see the glowing vanilla cone that marks the ice cream window. That’s right, there is an ice cream window.
All that’s between me and a vanilla cone of comfort is a bridge crossing the street, a few hundred feet, and four hookers.
They must have all attended the same “hooking” night class because their pitches are all exactly the same, “Massage? Sex? Two hundred Yuan.” (200 Yuan = $30)
Receiving propositions like this in places like Guangzhou and in cities all around the world is nothing new to me, but I’ve never received so many to and from an ice cream fix.
Four propositions on the way there, “Massage? Sex? Two hundred Yuan.” And four on the way back, “Massage? Sex? Two hundred Yuan.”
Ice cream is about as guilty as I like my pleasure. Besides it only costs two Yuan.