I have exactly TWO experiences with bath houses, the first one in 1984 at the Hollywood Spa in "downtown" Hollywood. 23 years old, in L.A. for the day by myself, and around 6pm thought I would check it out with expectations based on what I read in sex mags and the Advocate. I was a little disappointed to say the least. The place was cavernous, a maze of dark corridors that doubled back on themselves, taking you through locker rooms, and just these weird little anti-rooms with open bunks, bleacher-like seating to view porn on video monitors, loud club or K-ROQ type music blaring...the downstairs areas; jacuzzis and billiards tables were deserted and also dimly lit. The few guys that were there wandered around like zombies, clad only in a towel, not speaking a word to each other, just gave each other emotionless glares.... I mostly explored, after paying for a "room", which consisted of a wooden platform with a plastic mat on it for a bed, a video monitor with several channels of porn, a ceiling of chain link (as in fence) opened up to the rafters (as were many areas of the second floor).... the showers were filthy, the restrooms were creepy...the steamroom smelled of rancid piss, and the rest of the place just smelled... and cigarette smoke everywhere.
The crowd there that night was a little scary, too. Stalkers, people that would be standing outside the door to my room when I went in to get away from it, and still there when I came out.
The whole place was just very disconnecting from the interaction, sexual or otherwise, that one would go there to have. I didn't feel comfortable doing this, and left after a couple hours, feeling creeped out,
and never went back. I felt like I had experienced
Fellini Satyricon. :scared2: ...well, a dull version of it.
I just chalked it up to it being a personal problem...I was in the closet back then, but had been around enough to know what good sex was about, and this wasn't it. But I also knew I didn't function well in meeting places. Even bars. Rejection was everywhere, cliques that seemed impenetrable, and it was too much for a mousy, shy closeted kid from Orange County.
Fast forward 20 years, and all the life experience 20 years holds....birth and death of a LTR, starting of a business and career, finally stepping out of the closet to everyone, getting on the fast track and making up for lost time, my fair share of sex parties, getting too spun out, getting sober, and STAYING that way....and thanking my lucky stars that in all the wild times I DID manage to have, (as well as being grateful for the
wilder times I never
did) that I never got HIV (or HTLV-3 as it was called in the 80's)..... Anyways, fast forward to 2004 (a little ironic, dontcha thnk?) ...I am visiting a good friend for a few days, and he has business to attend to on Monday in North Hollywood, where he needs to visit a house he owns, and a client who has asked for a new heater to be installed in for the jacuzzi at... The North Hollywood Spa.
I went along to assist him, not really excited at going to the place...we went mid-afternoon, the job took a few hours to finish. The place was smaller, not a huge, dark and unwelcoming cavern. It was pretty well lit, and along with the usual posters of naked guys, the owner also had old-time movie posters and Route 66 memorabilia hanging up, the staff were friendly and talkative, everything was well lit, the video monitors in the main area were tuned in to regular tv (with the porn playing in the rooms and corridors upstairs), the bar was open and there were guys just sitting around chatting and joking. My friend Peter told me to go ahead and explore, but I stayed close by, as I noticed a sauna adjacent to the utility room we were in, and the glass door revealed anonymous sex taking place, the jucuzzi nearby (and not working) had a guy sitting in it, waiting for it to come back on, the open showers just beyond were clean and had a continuous stream of men; goodlooking ones being followed by ones less attractive, and the steamroom with its fogged up windows and blurred figures indicated the same thing happening there.
It all came back to me, the 1984 evening, but this time it wasn't dark and lurkish and menacing. Even so, I still found myself a little "shy" from it all (probably would have been more uninhibited when I wasn't sober back in the 90's), and after we finished, Peter gave me the tour of the place, including upstairs, and it seemed more sociable, probably in sync with what my expectations were back in 1984. There was even a fenced in roof patio, which I stepped out on, and then back indoors real quick when I saw some chaise lounge missionary sex going on in full sunlight, with a couple older guys standing over them watching. :boggled: (of course realizing that "giving them their privacy" was a moot point!) The owner was even around, a real talkative guy, very welcoming and had a friendly Golden Retreiver that ran all over the place, but had this strange habit of grabbing my leg and humping it furiously to the point that I was trying to get away from him and dragging my leg behind me with him still attached to it! :scared1:
So what have I learned from all of this? I know myself better now than I did then (naturally), and though I love getting my freak-on as much as anyone else, I'm just not into the sex-club or bath-house scene, and there's no reason I need to be. I'm not into the open sex party scene anymore either, and I may be a little reserved in my behaviour, but hey...if this is what others enjoy, go for it. At least I know I'm not repressed. :biggrin1:
Cheers!
B