Oasis on Northside. Yuck.
Confession: I'm a regular on another city's forum, but I'm in Atlanta a few times a year on business. I lurk here for tips when I'm in town, and I created this username just to report on my horrible experience at your OASIS SPA last week.
I was on Northside after leaving Atlantic Station when I saw the sign, and knew what kind of place it was. Just what I needed. About 2PM on a Thursday.
Korean woman met me at the door. Busted hag. Not fat, but very trail-weary, sad face, and 80's-style frizzy hair past her forehead and eyes. About 50. She wore the uniform: leopard-print tights and sandals. T-shirt.
Everything was as it should be. Twing-twang music was playing, dim lights. She took me to a room, back and to the left, with "VIP" on the door. Nicely decorated, with a hot tub in it. Big mirror on one wall."You want showah"? I gave her 60 bucks and let her see that I had plenty more in a money clip. This gal was no beauty, but I wasn't taking her to the prom. Shower time.
I knew something was wrong when she wouldn't wash my dong."You washy private". Uh-oh. She washed me the way she would scrub out a garbage can. Zero penisary contact.
Back to the room for what may be the clumsiest, most clueless attempt at a massage. Pressing with fingers up and down my back. She would stop occasionally, just to pinch my wrist for awhile. I nicely asked her what the hell she was doing, and she said,"You don't know massagy".
All the time she was fumbling, she was talking about how she needed a man, and how there's no good man in the world anymore. Yawn.
Well, I got sick of this, so flipped over and got myself ready for the main event. She said,"Why you do? Time almost up", and some other throat-cancer voice tapped on the door and barked something in Korean. I said,"Time almost up? We just got started".
She goes,"Massagy here is 45 minute. You take long time in showah".
I'm instantly pissed. I got ripped off.
I tell her to clean me off, I'm out of here. While she's hot-toweling me, I realize that the other woman in the place is at the door, watching. My hag splits, and the other hag is standing there impatient while I get dressed. I say something about 45 minutes going pretty fast, and she tells me with a humorless smile that the time starts when I pay. She's uglier and crabbier than my massage crone, and all I want to do is GTFO.
I'm back in the car smelling like flowery lotion. Blue balls. Angry. I did everything right. I'm not new at this.
This was my first AMP experience in downtown or midtown Atlanta. How is this joint still open?
I got acceptable service up on Buford Highway the next day, as expected. But Oasis on Northside was horrible.