Saturday, March 29

There must be an Anjel (sic)

Quickly transferred to my rightful place on the north side of the hotel overlooking those pesky fountains.

At breakfast I am reminded of my mother-in-law's wisest advice.

Hold onto your knife and fork at a buffet.

Gamble, cocktail, watch co-workers on roller-coaster, gamble, cocktail. What a day.

This afternoon I headed to the plush spa for a Herbal Fusion Detox. God bless Anjel for thinking I gave a shit as she ran through the Organic melange of twattery she was about to apply to my toxin riddled torso.

She gave me a minute to get under the sheet. I hung my robe on the back of the door. Kicked off my flip-flops by the bed, and last minute decided to go commando flinging the CKs on top of the flip-flops.

We chit-chatted through-out the procedure. Anjel is a portly happy woman of Asian origin who is impressed by Mr. Richard's commitment to relaxation.

Half-way through I look like a wall in Maze prison and it's time for a steam shower.

At this point Anjel applies the flip-flops to my feet and then says, "I'll put your underpants in your robe pocket."

Fuck! I can feel those toxins coming back!!

Believing Anjel will tell me when to stop showering I proceed to have a 20 minute shower until she asks when I'm coming out.

Back on the table she applies a tropical butter to my wrinkled skin.

Afterwards I head down to the shower room but notice they have a steam room.

Toweled up I open the door. It's so steamy I only notice 7 pairs of knees, but I can tell it's a 'Cocks out' type of vibe.

In case I knew any of the 7 guys in there. "Hello. Sorry I couldn't see your face."

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