One evening last week, I promised to buy Mr. Happy a treat as a reward for being unusually well-behaved. I offered him a choice between the new Barenaked Ladies CD and a real barenaked lady, at a local MP. Being the rascal that he is, Mr. H. chose the latter.
The two of us ended up traipsing all around Edmonton, trying to find an SP who measured up to Mr. Happy's impossibly high standards. I figured we had settled on a brunette from Penthouse when we stopped in at Sinderellas. We were greeted by Haley in a cowboy hat and teeny string bikini. Mr. Happy promptly informed me in no uncertain terms that he had made his selection.
I wished Mr. H. well as I watched Haley lead him into a room. For the next 30 minutes, I waited in the lobby, leafing through a copy of Canadian Grocer magazine.
When at last the pair emerged, I was surprised to see that Mr. Happy wasn't living up to his name. Usually after an encounter with an SP, he exits grinning from ear to ear. In the car, I asked what was wrong.
Mr. Happy proceeded to tell me that despite the recommendations of Haley from other Mr. Happies, his particular session had been a disaster.
"First of all, she sucked the romance out of the session by discussing prices right away. I felt like a contestant on Let's Make a Deal. Second, she rushed through the massage, with no teasing at all. I LOVE being teased, so you can imagine how crestfallen I was. Third, she seemed more interested in getting herself off than in giving me any sort of attention or TLC. And straddling the hips right above me does nothing to put me in a romantic mood. I almost passed out from the lack of blood flow."
"But she was the one you wanted." I reminded Mr. H. "You insisted."
"I know. My character judgment stinks." he agreed.
"Well, what do we do now?"
"Take me back to Penthouse." Mr. Happy implored. "Let's find Monique. She's the only one who can cheer me up right now."
I turned the car toward Penthouse.
The two of us ended up traipsing all around Edmonton, trying to find an SP who measured up to Mr. Happy's impossibly high standards. I figured we had settled on a brunette from Penthouse when we stopped in at Sinderellas. We were greeted by Haley in a cowboy hat and teeny string bikini. Mr. Happy promptly informed me in no uncertain terms that he had made his selection.
I wished Mr. H. well as I watched Haley lead him into a room. For the next 30 minutes, I waited in the lobby, leafing through a copy of Canadian Grocer magazine.
When at last the pair emerged, I was surprised to see that Mr. Happy wasn't living up to his name. Usually after an encounter with an SP, he exits grinning from ear to ear. In the car, I asked what was wrong.
Mr. Happy proceeded to tell me that despite the recommendations of Haley from other Mr. Happies, his particular session had been a disaster.
"First of all, she sucked the romance out of the session by discussing prices right away. I felt like a contestant on Let's Make a Deal. Second, she rushed through the massage, with no teasing at all. I LOVE being teased, so you can imagine how crestfallen I was. Third, she seemed more interested in getting herself off than in giving me any sort of attention or TLC. And straddling the hips right above me does nothing to put me in a romantic mood. I almost passed out from the lack of blood flow."
"But she was the one you wanted." I reminded Mr. H. "You insisted."
"I know. My character judgment stinks." he agreed.
"Well, what do we do now?"
"Take me back to Penthouse." Mr. Happy implored. "Let's find Monique. She's the only one who can cheer me up right now."
I turned the car toward Penthouse.
