Chapter 11

His name was Ali, and he owned the place. He was so excited to have us. “Here! Into the facility with you! You will get naked, and we will bring you warm towels! Under the hand dryer you can warm your tentacles and dingydongs. Nobody likes to have a wet thingum.”

As Mike went ahead and stripped, I stood back, raising one eye brow, admiring of course, but then watching Ali, who was admiring very much. Too much. I did strip, though. I was cold and starting to shiver, and the warm hand dryers sounded wonderful. Two waiters peeked in and brought warm towels, small hand towels like you would expect to find in a restaurant kitchen, although, for some reason, I’d expected bath towels. I shook my head. Another waiter came in with a tray full of wine glasses and several bottles of white wine. Very good white wine.

Mike’s phone rang.