My Mom Dropped Me off at the Brothel

My mom dropped me off at the brothel. I got out of the minivan, nervous. But if my mom thinks it’s okay, I should be fine right? And it’s regulated here, anyway.

I got to the back of the line and waited. The line was long enough that I was still outside. It was a cool day, but sunny. Maybe to the locals this would be considered a hot day.

When I got inside, they gave me a binder with two pages inside. The girls’ pictures were all obstructed in some way. The lighting was dark, or they had sunglasses on, or they were in group photos.

There were none I was sure about, but I eventually picked one with dark hair that had originally caught my eye.

I asked where the restroom was, and they pointed. I left my bag in the lobby, though I would soon start worrying about it.

I pulled open the glass sliding door and stepped onto the deck. The bathroom was one of those with a vacant/occupied status. It displayed vacant, but for some reason it was red, instead of green.

I opened the door, and to my surprise, it was a multi-person restroom with two stalls. Nevertheless, I turned around and clicked the button, locking the door and setting it to occupied.

I started walking to the stalls when I heard the toilet flush. A monkey, on its hind legs, came out and stared at me. I did a shooing motion, but it didn’t budge.

A second later, it walked away and entered the other stall.

Oh well. I figured it owned the land as much as I did.

I entered the now empty stall and started to pee.

Flush. Flush. The monkey was using the motion detector to flush the other toilet over and over again.

Flush.

Flush.

Fl—

Then I woke up.