BARRY'S BATHHOUSE
Jake looked up at the sign of the business in front of him, a nice wood carved one that hung on chains, “Barry’s Bathhouse” was painted in bronze over green. He looked at the reviews on his phone, smiled and walked in. The front had no windows, and a single door next to the enclosed front desk. The clerk was a man in his late 40’s, balding hair and a short black beard. The magazine in his hands looked small in his big hands. Jake’s eyes wandered over his body as he waited for the clerk to look up, a low cut shirt showed off thick chest hair, and the back of his hands we carpeted as well. From the look of it, Jake assumed most of his body was hairy. “I’m assuming you’re Barry?” “Don’t be a smart ass kid, why are you here?” The clerk grumbled, still not looking up from the magazine. “Well, I’m here to try out the bathhouse and saunas, obviously.” Jake grumbled about the kid comment. At 27 years old, he was a good 6 feet, built from the gym and a nice cropped scruff. Farm boy or ...