"Doesn't this feel good?"
Now I was the one feeling nervous. "It's certainly warm."
"As I was saying the other night about Oscar Wilde...."
I just couldn't believe it. A minute into the spa and this little guy was already talking about literature in the most un-intellectual environment you could imagine.
Suddenly, I felt a foot on my calf. It moved up my leg slowly. Was it Barry? If it was it was a little forward of him, considering I didn't even know him. Glancing across the spa I noticed that 'croc-man' was looking directly at me with a lecherous smile. Realising that the owner of the foot was 'croc-man', I moved back an inch but came into contact with Barry. But Barry didn't seem to mind. He was still talking about Oscar Wide.
"...Wilde sacrificed everything for love.."
That annoying foot was back again, but this time I couldn't throw it off.
"Barry."
"Huh?" He said.
"I'm getting too hot and bothered for this."
"OK. Let's go somewhere else and talk."
Wrapping ourselves with towels we walked out of the spa. The lecherous 'croc-man' continued to stare at me and I felt quite uncomfortable. But at least I was out of the spa and away from his unwanted attention. As we left 'croc-man' sunk back into the spa with only his eyes looking out of the water - probably waiting for his next victim to appear.
Barry walked ahead of me into a long corridor with what looked like an endless series of booths. I watched as men wandered in and out of these rooms. I concluded that they must be for relaxing after dancing. But we still hadn't come across the dance floor and I had to wonder where it was in relation to a pool and a relaxation area. Barry opened the door to one of the cubicles and stepped in. I followed. He closed it and turned a latch. On the floor was a mat. He sat down on it and looked up at me. "Take a seat".
As he started to talk about Oscar Wilde again I realised I could hear the faint sound of groaning. But I just couldn't work it out. It could have been the sound of an animal caught in a trap for all I knew. But when someone let out a loud cry with the accompanying sound of wood creaking violently I knew it wasn't the four-legged variety.
"Is that what I think it is?" I said alarmed.
Barry looked totally unfazed. "Two men going for it, I guess."
I stood up and wrapped the towel around my waist a little tighter. "Let's go somewhere else where there aren�t such... distractions."
He looked up from the mat. "But we just got here."
"Well, I want a quieter place."
"OK," He shrugged.
This time Barry led me back down the corridor but we turned left and stopped at a glass door. He yanked it open. Steam poured out and I almost jumped back until I realised it was a steam room for relaxation. Inside, it was hard to see anything, but, once again, Barry seemed to know exactly where to go. He stopped at a row of stone benches, under what looked like an ornately carved series of columns. In between clouds of steam I could make out a variety of Greco-Roman statues in various poses positioned around the room.
Taking a seat next to him he resumed his conversation. "You could say that Wilde was love�s fool because it was his obsession with the search for love that destroyed him in the end��"
