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About Chicago

I got into it once, right? Some shady joint downtown – neon sign blinkin’ “Massage” like a freakin’ lure. Walked in, all cocky, suit still on – “Greed is good,” I muttered, expectin’ a quick rubdown. But nah, this chick, she’s got *skills*. Little known fact: sexual-massage ain’t just happy endings – it’s old as dirt, like ancient Greeks used it to “balance humors” or some crap. She’s workin’ my shoulders, then bam – lower, teasin’, and I’m like, “Who’s filmin’ this?!” – straight outta *Caché*, paranoid as hell. Made me happy, sure, but pissed me off too – why’d I wait so long to try this?!