Living Next To A ‘Massage Parlour’

Every day for the last nine months I’ve noticed a poster for ‘Brighton-Belles’ in the window of my down-the-road neighbours flat.

Every day I have thought to myself, “Wow I wonder if that’s some sort of show – I’ll have to Google it”.

Every day I forgot the moment I got home.

Until yesterday.

I suppose you could say it’s a ‘show’ of sorts, but definitely not the type I expected. Instead, it turns out that I have been living a few doors down from a “personal massage parlour” all this time.

Disclaimer: I am by NO means suggesting that ‘Brighton Belles’ is a brothel.

Or has anything to do with a brothel.

Or sex.

In any fashion.

However, here are a few things I have learnt from the website of this particular “massage parlour”.

  • You can have your pick of scantily clad masseuses, provided they’re not already booked
  • There are some excellent deals if you’re in the market for a ‘massage’ from two girls
  • For just a small extra fee you can take full advantage of the ‘swing room’…

Unfortunately this new revelation has come at the worst possible time. I’m moving out in 2 days and haven’t started packing yet… becuase that would make my life a lot easier. But now, instead of being productive I’ve been averaging an hour a day staring out the window hoping to catch someone I know on their way to sort their ‘back problems’.

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