Yeah, I knew that would catch your attention! I am not going to talk about vegetables today, I promise, so read on.
On our way to Malaga, where the nearest IKEA is located , we pass a very interesting building. You see these all over Spain. They are usually pretty basic concrete-block things, with a garish neon sign. They may just be called “Club” or “Party” or something similar, but don’t be fooled into thinking you might just stop for a nice drink with the family.
These are brothels, Spanish style. They are legal, inspected places, so quite safe. They are all along the big motorways, and even along some of the smaller highways, like the one we passed today. You can, indeed, just get a drink there, but usually you are in the mood for something more, and you are definitely not there with the family!
Funnily enough, the Spanish are quite open about brothels, and prostitution in general. Maybe because people marry quite late in life here, and tend to live with their parents until they marry, men frequently ‘attend’ prostitutes. The claim is that there are very few Spanish women who are prostitutes, however, they are mostly foreigners. I wonder, does every nationality think their own women are too ‘good’ to be prostitutes? I’m sure someone has done a study on that!
On our way back from IKEA today, it was about 2:30. Lunchtime in Andalucia. The car park of the brothel was pretty full (natch – what else do you do on your lunch hour, right?).
The funniest thing was, there was a ‘honey wagon’ parked there. That is the charming English term for
a wagon or truck for collecting and carrying excrement, usually from a septic tank
Now think about the implications. That is smelly work, as you might imagine. Isn’t it a bit above and beyond to be the woman who has to ‘tend’ to that gentleman?
Answers on a postcard.