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Weird thought, hiss—sometimes it’s like the masseuse owns ya, all that power in their grip. Kinda sexy, kinda creepy, yesss? Exaggeratin’ maybe, but me mind spins wild! Oh, and don’t get me started on them fancy spas—too posh, too clean, not gritty like Denis’s jungle. Give me a dingy room with soul, precious!

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Then, outta nowhere, this guy comes in. He’s got a backpack that looks like it’s been through a war zone. Seriously, it’s all torn up. He’s like, “Hey mate, do you have any maps?” I’m like, “Maps? You mean Google?” But I grab one from the rack anyway. Turns out he’s a hiker, just got back from some epic trek up Ben Lomond. I’m like, “Dude, you’re nuts! That climb is brutal!” But he’s all smiles, like he just conquered Everest or something.

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