Brothel...

This hotel just went from a really sketchy to really brothel. I picked up the phone, expecting that my mom was calling me to say goodnight. To my surprise, there was a stranger on the line – some man who wanted to know if I had ordered something-or-other. He was speaking a southern dialect of Mandarin, and I didn’t quite catch what he thought that I’d ordered.

“What?” I asked, still a bit startled.

“A beautiful woman,” he replied, “to give you a massage.”

“Um, no.” (Literally, “I don’t want it/her.”)

And now he sounded surprised as he muttered, “Oh.” As if he expected me to seize the opportunity.

Earlier today, I had taken a picture of a multi-purpose document posted on the nightstand of each room. It is simultaneously a no smoking sign and an advertisement for the hotel’s massage services. The reason why I snapped a picture of it was that the ad was unexpectedly risqué, featuring a topless woman. I thought that the image depicted a client enjoying the spa’s services. But no. Now everything made sense. This person was actually the masseuse.
Someone in the hotel must have given out my room information, or perhaps the hotel’s concierge thought that he was doing an American a favor. But talk about invasion of privacy and lack of decency… I can’t wait to get out of this sketchtastical place tomorrow morning.