Silicon smoking room

The series was released in 2015 on the channel HBO, has already five seasons and tells about the difficult life of the inhabitants of a real-life Silicon Valley (or, as people say, Silicon Valley: it’s all about the similarity of the word silicon – silicon, a semiconductor material that is used to create various devices, and silicone – actually, silicone) – a place filled with companies creating modern devices related to electronics.

The TV project shows the difficulties that the main character has to face when creating his own company from scratch, based on his breakthrough technology. It is known that the creators consulted with real developers and people from successful startups. Moreover, their fictitious formula for data compression ratio was adopted by scientists.

The series is literally stuffed with various terms from the world of technology, but this does not prevent those who know nothing about it from watching it – fortunately, the humor is aimed at a wider audience. For example, in one of the episodes, the characters are seriously thinking about how to satisfy all the men sitting in the hall as quickly as possible and this helps to improve their project, and in another, tens of thousands of people watch a live broadcast of how a man cannot get out of a cave and is going to drink his urine, while the characters do their best to maintain the stability of the flow, for which they have to break through the wall.

P.S. I recommend watching it either in the original or in the voice-over from Cube in a cube (unfortunately, this studio can no longer translate the fifth season due to legal problems).

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I personally knew about the existence of such salons for a long time, and did not feel any interest in them, except for the kicking of the very legal loophole by which such services live – there is massage? Eat. No penetration? No. This means that everything else is just a bonus, and quite within the bounds of legality.
And so it all was, until back in 2017, I accidentally saw one magnificent, and now archived, thread on Dvach about these salons, authored by a stereotypical 30-year-old virgin who decided to improve his life, but was the first to go to a prostitute.

And yes, his story was really very attractive, just like Stig’s – but the key point for me personally was the assurance that salons are an intermediate element between prostitution as a carnal service, and normal relationships as a moral. Or rather, like a prostitute, according to the stories of the same dvachevans (I didn’t go myself) this is when a girl sets a timer, and within the framework of this timer, with absolute pocherism, she spreads her legs, waiting for the coveted beep. And if all conversations are conducted, it is only to delay the time of this very timer, and not to do what the money was paid for.
The “absence” of this is what captivated me as an idea, in fact. That there are establishments where intimacy is not about jerking off to a girl, but a place where you are treated trivially as a person, and you can simply relax surrounded by a nice woman who, of course, will just pretend that she is interested in you. To be honest, this is what I wanted, not to fuck. But, that’s how I forgot about it, in general, until one summer Saturday, when the absence of a female body nearby completely blew my mind. “We need to solve this urgently,” I thought, and at the same time I decided to check whether everything was so cloudless in these salons.

Googled the most sane according to reviews. Cool, almost in the center of Kyiv. Okay, let’s go. I arrived at the place… and wandered around for about 20 minutes. According to geolocation, the salon was in a residential building right next to the entrance, but there was nothing similar anywhere else. Well, you know, that’s all. Abandoning anonymity, I called from the main phone number from the website, and they told me how to get there. It turned out that there was one inconspicuous metal door on which an Asian girl was drawn in outline – no identification marks at all and no entrance as such. Okay. I rang the bell and the receptionist opened the door. We walked through a dark room with red neon lighting, during which time they asked me what time I came, and what set I would take.

And then the first thing happened, which is actually common to all of Kyiv – prices on the website are always lower than in reality. I don’t know what caused this, but it was written there that the minimum program costs 800 hryvnia, and then – in increasing order. The minimum, if anything, is when you can’t touch a girl in principle.
I sort of understood the pricing issues in advance, so I withdrew a thousand from the card… and it’s as if there wasn’t any more, if that’s the case. Only a thousand for everything about everything. And then the administrator tells me the following:

“Minimum program 900, mutual massage – 1200”. And I have a thousand. That is, so that you understand – I don’t know where I came and what will happen next, but I know for sure that a university scholarship in this country is equal to ±700 hryvnia, ordinary prostitution starts from 300, and here they ask me for 900 for 30 minutes of massage and 30 minutes of handjob, without the opportunity to touch the girl in any way. Well… oh well, it’s still worth a try. I took the minimum and moved on. They brought out three girls to choose from, and I immediately fell asleep like a nervous sucker who came for the first time, having wasted all efforts to express equanimity. Okay, let’s go. I chose the one that I liked at least somehow – a girl of good appearance, about 23-24 years old. Looks like one of those, you know, ones who run Instagram* with a couple of thousand subscribers – not my type at all, but the rest were even more dubious.

The chosen lady led https://casinonz.co.uk/login/ me into a very spacious room, with a low double bed and dim lighting. Paid immediately. He says, “Go take a shower, I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”. That’s it, give or take. No emotions, no conversation… we didn’t even say hello. It’s just as if they were punching my bread at the checkout, somehow it all happened at the same level. I felt kind of fucked up, but still started to undress. Where should we run now??
Undressed, got into the shower. I washed myself right before leaving the house, but since the guy from Dvacha said that I still need to wash, that means I need to wash. It’s cold, I’m completely lost, I don’t even see hot water. Oh, here you go. I went, great. Damn, you’re standing naked and washing yourself in a place that 15 minutes ago you didn’t even know about. There is no talk of relaxation. Bam, here comes the young lady, as soon as I got under the water – okay, let’s get out. By the way, she was already naked, and upon entering, she turned off the main lighting in the room – now only the red neon lamp remained. I crawl out sideways so as not to be physiologically burned by the fact that I’m shy (HAHA BITCH WELL YOU UNDERSTAND IT’S LIKE THE DICK IS SQUEEZED IN GENERAL))))))), and in the meantime she is laying an oilcloth on the bed.

Says: “Lie on your stomach, legs wide”. I lie down, and she… and she goes and turns on the music on the speaker on the coffee table. And then I went crazy. Not only was the music playing SOME LOUDER than a normal person needs to relax, but it wasn’t ambient… it was Russian rap. Loud Russian rap. The best thing is to get a buzz.
Okay, let’s move on. Here I feel a firm touch on my ankle with an oiled hand, which slowly began to rise a little higher to my calf and thighs. In general, yes, the girl clearly took massage courses, and it was very pleasant, I don’t even want to deny it.
Just don’t get me wrong, there was no excitement in this. You lie face down on the floor, something crushes you that you don’t even see, and only with your hands (at that moment I was waiting for them to lay their whole body on me, WELL, LIKE IN A PINK. I wouldn’t have come there if it weren’t for this in the program).

And at the same time, another mistake I made was that I went there tired. Although, as it were, such places are recommended to visit for those who want to “relax after a hard day of work,” but I did not understand this topic at all. I was tired that day, very tired, and with a very pleasant REGULAR massage I… simply wanted to fall asleep. Like this. Zero erection, zero thoughts on the matter – only the desire to fall asleep and forget about everything. And it’s strange. Well, there seems to be a beautiful naked girl nearby, but all you want to do is laugh, because anything can pop into your head, but not just what’s next to you. Like in memes. Well… well nothing! When she rubs her whole body against me, then I wake up in all parts of my body! It is necessary to fall current ©.
And I was waiting for it to be fun. But it didn’t become. And then she says: “Turn over”. Just one word. All these 30 minutes before were in pure silence, to the fucking howls of fucking Russian rap.

I roll over onto my back and immediately a loud “HOLY FUCK” flashes through my head. ». Well, hello Mr. sluggish, long time no see… actually never seen each other, and that embarrasses me even more. Yes, for a very long time and very much I was afraid of being in front of a girl with an erect penis. Welcome to the realization of another fear.
Yes guys, I already felt fucked. Lying like a whistle at the ceiling in front of a generally beautiful girl who tried REALLY hard to hide her disgust, but failed. Well yes, welcome, welcome. Okay, fuck it – now the fun part will begin, and then I’ll rehabilitate myself.

And then the second fuck happened – I felt that someone was touching my long-suffering penis. And how did I feel because of this?? Pain. Only pain. Yes guys, four surgeries went through, and by that time I was still in pain from touching my pussy. Just so you understand, before the fourth operation I was limping. Just fucking limping from pain when walking.
And this pain is the only thing I feel. If it weren’t for Russian rap, then the room was immersed in silence (after “Turn Over,” the girl didn’t utter a word!), would be filled with hissing sounds through the teeth, like those people make when they burn. But they just crushed my dick.
And yes, that’s all – there was nothing stupid besides this.

This is the main point. Here I am lying on my back, on an oilcloth, on a bed, in a dark room. A naked girl is sitting next to me… and she’s just doing something with my dick with her hands. Just like that. Due to the lack of lighting, even silhouettes cannot be clearly seen, not to mention nudity, the beauty of a face or figure. That is, how can I tell you… it’s just technically not exciting. In general, it doesn’t matter which girl you choose, YOU DON’T SEE HER in this environment. And you don’t even fucking feel it, because only her hands are in contact with you. This is the fucking level of that same “stranger” when you sit on your hand and then jerk it off, imagining that it’s someone else doing this to you. Here’s one to one, I’m not bullshitting.
Only it hurts me. And you know what’s funny – I spent a total of about four hours of my life in the same position on operating tables, in the gloomy walls of hospitals, under the gaze of inadequate doctors. The association from sensations is the same. I don’t feel calm. I’m lying there and waiting for the lidocaine bitch to work, otherwise it hurts guys.

-Okay, wait. – I stop.
-M?
-Listen, this won’t work. I can’t relax.
-Yes, that’s what I see)))
-“fucking cheered me up. “Listen, you’re… just continue like this, or you’ll lay your body on me?
-…Uh? Ah, ha, no! What are you? That’s the only way.
-..
-.
-..
-.
-Enough… it’s no use. Let me just lie on my stomach again and you continue with the regular massage, okay?
-OK.

And I turned over again. Yeah guys, this is complete bullshit. Whether you are yelling there or experiencing Spanish shame, but inside me at that moment something just up and died. Everything went as far as I had feared in my worst nightmares, as much as it could. I wanted to cry. Really curl up into a ball and cry. But there is nothing. I just lay face down on the bed while they continued to knead me, and I didn’t even blink the whole time. No thoughts or options on what to do next. I was just thinking what a fucking idiot I am. What a sucker, what a schmuck bitch, how did this happen, how I want to fall underground so that no one will ever see or hear. This is a fiasco.

The timer rang and she said that was it. I got out of bed and just watched as she, again without saying a single extra word, just picked it up and left the room. I felt bad at heart. I realized that that dvacher dude and I live in different worlds. His personal life began with such a campaign, and I lost all self-respect. He came across a girl who made him feel like someone, and I came across a factory worker who made me feel like nothing at all. I washed myself, got dressed, left the building with a gloomy face, barely squeezing out “Bye” at the entrance, and simply walked towards the center, bypassing the metro.

Conclusions? Well I made them. And, oddly enough, very positive and very useful in this case. I don’t know if anyone needs them, if the main story from which you’ll get something to screw with me for another six months has already been told, but if anyone is interested in why, after this day, on the contrary, I only became more confident – 10 pluses to this comment, and I’ll add a small DLC.
Now it’s just such a mess in my head that there’s no way.
In short, I’ll just say that I stopped at least somehow worrying about that situation after half an hour, although it was quite difficult to write this text now. Not so much because it’s like it’s personal, but because guys, I really had to remember what, in almost 20 years of my existence, became the most shitty and shameful incident in my intimate life. All this is complemented by just the icing on the cake – I also paid for all this.

* The activities of the parent organization “Meta” are recognized as extremist and prohibited on the territory of the Russian Federation

I don’t know why the hell you’re dragging me into your interethnic Eugopean love, what does it have to do with me, why should I even draw anything, but so be it..

Thank you very much to everyone for your understanding and support, although at the end I said that there was no negativity left from that situation by the end of the day. Now we still need to clarify.

Firstly, I have this idea about life – and, by the way, not least thanks to the SG Blogs and smoking rooms in particular – that everything that can be corrected purely technically is not considered a problem at all. If you can collect your thoughts, get your ass off the couch and solve the situation, then for me these are just temporary difficulties.
Paralytic disability, dementia, unexpected death – this is really scary, and even so people still manage to live and overcome. It’s not that you want to take a “thank you for at least not pissing” attitude, but, on the contrary, the more options there are to resolve the issue, and the less time it takes, the less you should be afraid of this thing. And there were enough options for the story described.

Secondly, in fact, “being afraid” is generally a dubious thing. You know, with many (and, unfortunately, not all) things that scared me, at one point I just had to take it and face it. And of those with which it worked, over the past five years, NOT ONE fear has been justified as truly worthy of bending before it. Seriously, absolutely every such episode, which I was afraid of like fire, after it happened, did not seem like something life-changing – on the contrary, the state of eternal fear of this fear has a much worse effect on the psyche than the fulfillment of this very fear.
That’s true. Of course, not everything can be just taken up and mastered right away, but if there is an option to overcome yourself and survive what you are afraid of, there is a VERY high chance that you will stop being afraid. At least verified by yourself.

And thirdly, from the words of other people, their stories usually seem much harsher than they actually see. Seriously, you tell me that my stories are cruel, but I myself still listen to people with a calm face telling things that make my heart sink. They survived it, it’s not scary for them, and damn it – maybe they’re just being dramatic. This all also needs to be taken into account and experienced. Look, Vika won’t let you lie that the term “psychopathic agitation” is strongly tied to this.

And these three points in total greatly influenced what happened next after the salon. I re-read what I wrote yesterday – I don’t want to hide it, I really know how to type words in such a way as to evoke a certain reaction in the reader. And yet, here I don’t seem to have gone too far with the dramatization regarding what really happened. But taking into account what was written above in the same message, you need to understand that this state lasted for me… about five minutes or so. Yes.
What really saved me was that by the time of the hike I had already had some experience with girls, which made it clear that what had happened— this is wrong. I don’t know how I would have reacted if I had never held a hand before, and in fact I don’t even want to imagine, but in reality it became crystal clear that EVERYTHING HAD TO BE WRONG.
And so, literally outside the salon door, a swarm of thoughts began, which, oddly enough, did not drive one into self-examination, but on the contrary gave more reasons to correct the situation.

“Hehey, you really just ended up with a shriveled pussy in front of a naked stranger girl who, for your money, gave you the crappiest handjob of all. Agree, in my head it all seemed much scarier.»

With this thought, I began to walk more and more confidently and purposefully, drawing conclusions from what happened.
“First of all, man, watch less porn. And then I jerked off, damn it. Secondly – bitch, now put it on your nose that if you have to have sex, then do it without any stress." – and a few of these insignificant things that, of course, tend to go wrong with:

But from the fact that I do not intend to violate, and the most important of all conclusions was that I will not give a single penny more for physical intimacy with women. Not a hryvnia. And it’s not even a question of redneckness, but of the understanding that… well, damn it, before I managed to some extent get from girls what I wanted for joy, and absolutely free. Actually, I have never in my memory invested money in “intimacy”, simply because for me it contradicts the very idea of ​​intimacy. And I received. "For this".
And then I paid a decent amount of money, and the fucking pig was in a poke. That is, hello, this is not even the product in the store that you paid for! I gave myself completely objective money, but in return they gave me game – and a ton of similar stories. Why even consider this as an option?? For what?

I just took it and threw out of my head this rudimentary element of life that had previously interested me. I used to be interested, but now I’m not interested at all. Seriously, it’s better than if I got into it and then went there with every paycheck, yeah. And yes, I said that it went away after half an hour – well, to the extent that in my desire to rehabilitate myself, half an hour after leaving the salon I walked and talked with a girl who was not much inferior in appearance to that masseuse. I just came up to meet you in the center and met. FOR FREE. Even though our acquaintance ended that evening (the girl, despite her beauty, turned out to be damn boring and uninteresting. Alas.), the very fact that I actually have enough skill for such things made it clear that there was no problem at all. Just tried something that didn’t work. Therefore everything is really good.

In general, thank you guys, of course, but just keep in mind that the cool stories that I tell you by themselves do not reflect my quality of life. What globally happens to her after moving to Kyiv is really a luxury that not every person her age can afford, and for this I am seriously grateful to anyone I can. The last six months have been the calmest and most pleasant of, perhaps, my entire teenage youth, and what is most pleasing is that this is all exactly as much a consequence of chance as the fruits of hard work, the compensation of which at one time I didn’t even believe in. This really works, people. You Plow -> You Receive. Life has not yet managed to dissuade me from the fact that each of us has enough strength and ability to make our life the way we would like, and therefore, if someone experiences discomfort in something, it’s time to try to get rid of it. It will work out, the market. love you

Thank you for your comment, Andrey and Strelka. Thank you all at once, because you can answer everything in one key, but I don’t want to stretch the traffic:

This was all a relatively long time ago (the beginning of summer), and there are no more unpleasant precipitations left. On the contrary, I say, even in the context of your wishes, my current situation is closer than that story above. However, I won’t say anything, I’ve already broken down on this occasion a bunch of times – and let your wine steep, it will only get better with time)

The same applies to the cube – I always thought that what fell out of the twenty-sided cube was rather a “lol”, because things that I regard as truly terrible have not happened to me for a very long time. Yes, it didn’t happen at all, if you look at it – it’s all more ironic and lulz than sad. And that’s why, perhaps, I share them, because despite the seemingly depressive touch, I wouldn’t tell any of my cool stories if I couldn’t profit from it myself. Everything’s fun. Hoy!