Dr. Lovenstein steps out.
Hey sex gods and goddesses, it's your old buddy Doctor Lovenstein rapping at ya again.
Well, it seems Mrs. Lovenstein has left the ATL for a couple days, so while the wife's away, this cat will play!
The Good Doctor stays in the Chamblee slash Doraville area and has been prowling around the last couple nights. If you love the Nubian ladies, the Ivory goddesses, the Latin lovlies AND the pleasers from the East, this is the place to be.
Yesterday, that is, on Monday, yours truly decided to pay a visit to one of the favorite titty bars of the USASG crew. This place was pretty hopping for a Monday. When I got there, there was a funny looking brother in a hunting cap pushing money around like it was hurting him to have it. Most of the ladies had bodies in the 7-10 range, but the faces ranged from angels to Swamp Thing. If you want variety, this is the place to be: old MLK would heartily approve of little the little chocolate, carmel, and white girls shaking their booties side by side.
I bought dances from a few of the women there. Once they were done, I tried as politely as possible to tell them to be on their way, but that occasionally involved a little fibbing to try to smooth things over. I had a fairly in-depth conversation about the VIP room with one petite pale thing in particular. She let me know that there would be no knob slobbering, and no kielbasa hiding with her,"Nothing that my boyfriend of your husband (I'm just going to guess she meant to say 'wife') would be upset about." But she implied that there were others who would go further. The Doctor was too distracted to ask who these ladies were who might upset the Mrs. And I got no such offers from any of the ladies there, including the two-bagger with the body you could set your watch to.
There was this one other man there that I should mention; I don't know if the dude was famous but he sure ACTED famous, flashing a fat stack and buying dances for his whole (large) posse. Which included yet another lovely honey.
Eventually I got to my spending limit so I kicked back and watched the football game for a while. I expected more out of this battle after all the hype and run-up about playing outside in the cold in Minnesota. I mean, I was hoping at least to see somebody's head freeze solid and shatter like in Demolition Man (Free Wesley Snipes!).
Well, that was it for Monday, except to try to book an appointment with Hush agency (more about that later).
I'm also posting to Craigslist Casual Encounters, but apparently my ads are too sexy, too fresh, and too much competition for the moderators, as they're taking most of them down as soon as I post, without even a message telling me that I've been flagged.
Tuesday after work rolls around and I'm ready to see more. As I mentioned, it's been a while since the Doctor has had the time, motivation and cheddar to go hunting for the wet pink flesh, so I figured I'd try to scare up a little popsicle love from an Asian massage joint. Now I know that this scene just ain't what it used to be back in the day, so I wasn't expecting much.
First stop was B-Spa on Buford Highway, right near pretty much nothing, but south of the CDC and north of Follies. The little strip mall it's in had an honest to Dobbs GAMBLING joint running in it for quite a while, so I figure the landlord wouldn't be too picky about having a lady selling what's legal to give away for free.
As soon as I stepped in, I could tell that it was THAT kind of place. Small waiting room with a window, and a locked door. The lady at the window told me it would be $40 for a 30 minute massage. I told her I wanted to see the massage ladies first. She told me I wouldn't be disappointed, but she implied that she didn't want a "peek and dash": apparently some jackasses get off on taking a look at the ladies without ever intending to throw any money their way. I asked if I could would get the bills back if I didn't like what I saw, and she agreed. She gave off an easy vibe that told me I could trust her, so I agreed. She led me back down the hall to the massage room, and I waited with high hopes for the girl to show. Well, it was no girl, it was a woman maybe 50 years old, but with a decent body and a fairly sexy dress. Now, some of you might be into this, and surely it's worth it for you to check out, keeping in mind that Asian women age, in my opinion, very well. But I was in the mood for a young honey, so I told my would-be masseuse that she wasn't the lady for me tonight. I got my money back, as promised, and split.
Well, it was back on the road in the FeelMobile (a 2008 White Dodge Caravan pimped with a racing suspension and a Ferrari engine) and I headed north toward Bally Hot Stone.
I saw the new new Roosters Barnyard on the way there, so I figured I'd check out that scene and get a dance before moving on. I stepped in the door, and gave the guard a greeting. He gave me a quick look in my jacket and a fast patdown.
Now, not to get off track, but this was actually a patdown I didn't mind. You know, the bouncer was fucking SHOT to fucking death not too long ago at Shooter Alley just across the way. The TSA pretends like they're doing us a favor by peering up our asses, when everybody knows that they aren't really protecting us from shit. But I'd be totally OK with checking a pistol at the door at this location.
And is there now a worse name for a gentlemen's club than Shooter Alley? Who the fuck would want to think about being a duck at a shooting gallery while you're trying to enjoy a lap dance? Rename that place, for fuck's sake. Here's a suggestion, a Christmas present from Dr. Lovenstein: "T. T. Barre's Gentlemen's Emporium".
Back to Rooster's: the guard wanted $10 for me to get in. I told him I only brought $5 and just wanted a quick dance. He let me know that dances were the more standard $10. Now, my reading comprehension must be total shit, because the website for this place says that admission is free before 8 PM and dances are $5. I split for my original destination: Bally Hot Stone.
This house was right on top of one of my favorite sushi restaurants. (If you just want a quick sushi meal, though, take this inside tip from the Doctor: hit the food court at Super H-Mart). I get inside the place and it's got this waiting room that wants to be high class, but lacks the time or money. There's an exercise bike there. I ring the bell next to the window and wait. I ring the bell again, but still, there's no answer, so I guess they're too busy for my business.
I cruised on over to another place that I had seen before and had even gotten laid at when it was open under a different name: Royal Health at Shallowford and New Peachtree. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be there any more, though it's on Google Street view.
Well, my lower back and ass were mighty sore at this point from piloting the FeelMobile, so I came up with a new plan. I would check out a massage place I had peeped earlier in the evening. I forget the name exactly, but it's something like "My Minh", near Penang restaurant. I figured it most probably was a massage place with no junk touching, but I wanted a good massage anyway. It has red lanterns out front, so I figured that maybe there was a chance of something more, but had no expectations.
I walked in and the lady at the front counter, who spoke almost no English, told me that it would be $40 for a half hour massage, and that she would get a pretty young girl to massage me. Long story short: I did get a good massage, but there was no happy ending, and not from a pretty young girl. I paid $5 tip after the masseuse hassled me for it. Overall, not too bad. I did get to see one of the other masseuses and she was just OK, maybe 6/10. They also seem to offer table showers as well.
Well, that's the Doctor's week of freedom so far. I think Wednesday night will find me at amateur night at Strokers, unless I can find something better to do.
One more thing which I mentioned earlier. I want a sure thing that I know I'm going to look at and want to make sweet love to. So I contacted both JFL and Hush, but haven't heard back from either of them. I know they don't want to do business with just anyone, but it is it their usual practice to just go all quiet if they don't think you're on the level? Hit me up if you know how to get through to them.
Dr. Lovenstein steps out.
Hey sex gods and goddesses, it's your old buddy Doctor Lovenstein rapping at ya again.
Well, it seems Mrs. Lovenstein has left the ATL for a couple days, so while the wife's away, this cat will play!
The Good Doctor stays in the Chamblee slash Doraville area and has been prowling around the last couple nights. If you love the Nubian ladies, the Ivory goddesses, the Latin lovlies AND the pleasers from the East, this is the place to be.
Yesterday, that is, on Monday, yours truly decided to pay a visit to one of the favorite titty bars of the USASG crew. This place was pretty hopping for a Monday. When I got there, there was a funny looking brother in a hunting cap pushing money around like it was hurting him to have it. Most of the ladies had bodies in the 7-10 range, but the faces ranged from angels to Swamp Thing. If you want variety, this is the place to be: old MLK would heartily approve of little the little chocolate, carmel, and white girls shaking their booties side by side.
I bought dances from a few of the women there. Once they were done, I tried as politely as possible to tell them to be on their way, but that occasionally involved a little fibbing to try to smooth things over. I had a fairly in-depth conversation about the VIP room with one petite pale thing in particular. She let me know that there would be no knob slobbering, and no kielbasa hiding with her,"Nothing that my boyfriend of your husband (I'm just going to guess she meant to say 'wife') would be upset about." But she implied that there were others who would go further. The Doctor was too distracted to ask who these ladies were who might upset the Mrs. And I got no such offers from any of the ladies there, including the two-bagger with the body you could set your watch to.
There was this one other man there that I should mention; I don't know if the dude was famous but he sure ACTED famous, flashing a fat stack and buying dances for his whole (large) posse. Which included yet another lovely honey.
Eventually I got to my spending limit so I kicked back and watched the football game for a while. I expected more out of this battle after all the hype and run-up about playing outside in the cold in Minnesota. I mean, I was hoping at least to see somebody's head freeze solid and shatter like in Demolition Man (Free Wesley Snipes!).
Well, that was it for Monday, except to try to book an appointment with Hush agency (more about that later).
I'm also posting to Craigslist Casual Encounters, but apparently my ads are too sexy, too fresh, and too much competition for the moderators, as they're taking most of them down as soon as I post, without even a message telling me that I've been flagged.
Tuesday after work rolls around and I'm ready to see more. As I mentioned, it's been a while since the Doctor has had the time, motivation and cheddar to go hunting for the wet pink flesh, so I figured I'd try to scare up a little popsicle love from an Asian massage joint. Now I know that this scene just ain't what it used to be back in the day, so I wasn't expecting much.
First stop was B-Spa on Buford Highway, right near pretty much nothing, but south of the CDC and north of Follies. The little strip mall it's in had an honest to Dobbs GAMBLING joint running in it for quite a while, so I figure the landlord wouldn't be too picky about having a lady selling what's legal to give away for free.
As soon as I stepped in, I could tell that it was THAT kind of place. Small waiting room with a window, and a locked door. The lady at the window told me it would be $40 for a 30 minute massage. I told her I wanted to see the massage ladies first. She told me I wouldn't be disappointed, but she implied that she didn't want a "peek and dash": apparently some jackasses get off on taking a look at the ladies without ever intending to throw any money their way. I asked if I could would get the bills back if I didn't like what I saw, and she agreed. She gave off an easy vibe that told me I could trust her, so I agreed. She led me back down the hall to the massage room, and I waited with high hopes for the girl to show. Well, it was no girl, it was a woman maybe 50 years old, but with a decent body and a fairly sexy dress. Now, some of you might be into this, and surely it's worth it for you to check out, keeping in mind that Asian women age, in my opinion, very well. But I was in the mood for a young honey, so I told my would-be masseuse that she wasn't the lady for me tonight. I got my money back, as promised, and split.
Well, it was back on the road in the FeelMobile (a 2008 White Dodge Caravan pimped with a racing suspension and a Ferrari engine) and I headed north toward Bally Hot Stone.
I saw the new new Roosters Barnyard on the way there, so I figured I'd check out that scene and get a dance before moving on. I stepped in the door, and gave the guard a greeting. He gave me a quick look in my jacket and a fast patdown.
Now, not to get off track, but this was actually a patdown I didn't mind. You know, the bouncer was fucking SHOT to fucking death not too long ago at Shooter Alley just across the way. The TSA pretends like they're doing us a favor by peering up our asses, when everybody knows that they aren't really protecting us from shit. But I'd be totally OK with checking a pistol at the door at this location.
And is there now a worse name for a gentlemen's club than Shooter Alley? Who the fuck would want to think about being a duck at a shooting gallery while you're trying to enjoy a lap dance? Rename that place, for fuck's sake. Here's a suggestion, a Christmas present from Dr. Lovenstein: "T. T. Barre's Gentlemen's Emporium".
Back to Rooster's: the guard wanted $10 for me to get in. I told him I only brought $5 and just wanted a quick dance. He let me know that dances were the more standard $10. Now, my reading comprehension must be total shit, because the website for this place says that admission is free before 8 PM and dances are $5. I split for my original destination: Bally Hot Stone.
This house was right on top of one of my favorite sushi restaurants. (If you just want a quick sushi meal, though, take this inside tip from the Doctor: hit the food court at Super H-Mart). I get inside the place and it's got this waiting room that wants to be high class, but lacks the time or money. There's an exercise bike there. I ring the bell next to the window and wait. I ring the bell again, but still, there's no answer, so I guess they're too busy for my business.
I cruised on over to another place that I had seen before and had even gotten laid at when it was open under a different name: Royal Health at Shallowford and New Peachtree. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be there any more, though it's on Google Street view.
Well, my lower back and ass were mighty sore at this point from piloting the FeelMobile, so I came up with a new plan. I would check out a massage place I had peeped earlier in the evening. I forget the name exactly, but it's something like "My Minh", near Penang restaurant. I figured it most probably was a massage place with no junk touching, but I wanted a good massage anyway. It has red lanterns out front, so I figured that maybe there was a chance of something more, but had no expectations.
I walked in and the lady at the front counter, who spoke almost no English, told me that it would be $40 for a half hour massage, and that she would get a pretty young girl to massage me. Long story short: I did get a good massage, but there was no happy ending, and not from a pretty young girl. I paid $5 tip after the masseuse hassled me for it. Overall, not too bad. I did get to see one of the other masseuses and she was just OK, maybe 6/10. They also seem to offer table showers as well.
Well, that's the Doctor's week of freedom so far. I think Wednesday night will find me at amateur night at Strokers, unless I can find something better to do.
One more thing which I mentioned earlier. I want a sure thing that I know I'm going to look at and want to make sweet love to. So I contacted both JFL and Hush, but haven't heard back from either of them. I know they don't want to do business with just anyone, but it is it their usual practice to just go all quiet if they don't think you're on the level? Hit me up if you know how to get through to them.
