property deeds and other documents, started dropping off quick,” she said. … to that office has remained pretty steady for real estate property tax payments, …

Have you ever thought you’d booked a normal massage but discovered during it that it came with cheeky ‘extras’? What did you do?

Before I answer this question, I must pre qualify that as a young doctor I was naive as hell!

I was raised on a farm and was given very little social education or advice. So, I wasn’t even aware of such a thing as massage parlors operating as prostitution rings.

My first practice was in a small town and I could see the Asian massage parlor from my office. The city’s mayor could be seen frequenting this “business” at the very least once per week.

I had just been open for about 6 months and had a lot of stress at the time. My muscles were tight and sore, and I really needed a good massage.

At my lunch break, I made my way across the street and proudly entered the front door of this fine establishment. I was greeted by a poorly lit bar/restaurant-looking area which was my first clue that something was not on the up and up because we were in a dry county.

But, I thought, there were no other massage businesses in town and since the mayor comes here every week, it must be ok.

I was met by a middle aged Japanese lady, not so attractive, but what stood out was her extremely large breasts stuffed into a tube top and resting on top of her hot-pink satin shorts like they used to wear back in the 70′s. Ok, now my radar is really going off, but dangit! I was really sore and needed a massage, so I went with her upstairs.

As we reached the top of the stairs I peered down a long, narrow hallway lined on both sides with curtains that covered the doorways to prison-cell sized chambers of extacy.

We entered a room and I was asked to completely disrobe. “Uh, no, thank you. I’ll leave my underwear on, I just need my shoulders, neck and upper back done today.” I said cautiously. “By the way, I am the new chiropractor in town, and if I feel you do a good job, we could work with each other.” I said hoping to establish that I was a professional looking for a proper massage.

She looked a bit confused, but agreed and asked me in very broken English to lay down and she would begin.

As she began, she started kneading the skin on my upper back like a light pastry dough. I told her to push harder and get to the rhomboids because that was where I was feeling the most pain. She then started tapping on my back with the tips of her fingers like she was playing the piano.

I stopped her and said “You really don’t know anything about massage, do you?” she shook her head and indicated with her fist toward her mouth that she would be happy to perform fellatio.

My face went immediately red as I realized how stupid and naive I must have looked at the moment. Then it hit me that I was going to have to get out of this establishment without being seen!

I was shown the back door, which, believe it or not, opened into the parking lot of the local police department and courthouse! I chose to leave the way I came in, but waited for the traffic to slow a bit first.

The next day I was in the practice and one of my patients, a little, sweet old lady, was getting on the adjusting bench and said, “Dr. Chillson, I’ll have what you had yesterday afternoon.”

Palm…face…the two met quite loudly that day!