Power Exchange

Today I spent some time at the Stanford Cancer Center, where I have my stem cell transplant appointments (for the kidney bizness). It's a beautiful place, great art and design, way nicer than the rest of Stanford Hospital, but here's the rub: folks got cancer.

If I weren't the way I am, I'd be able to find it hopeful, but I can't help but find it scary and depressing. With that in mind, I witnessed a hired harpist playing in the halls and recognized the song as Bette Midler's "Wind Beneath my Wings." I didn't know whether to laugh or break down sobbing. I can hardly hear that song on the radio on my way to the beach without crying, let alone surrounded by bald people wearing gas masks on their way to chemo. WTF?! Just 'cause folks got cancer doesn't mean they want to hear the cancer theme song all time.

Speaking of depressing places, I was perusing the website of the Power Exchange, an epic sex club a block from my house. It's been on my mind lately because they just painted it bright yellow. As I expected, women get in free. Please enjoy the slideshow of brightly-lit rooms that look like they're part of a church-sponsored haunted house, complete with folding chairs.


Derek said...

Now you tell me!!? What was I doing?

P.S. Good luck with kidney stuff, sorry about the bummer.

ted d. said...

Um, what about the Men's level, there's a boxing ring but called out to the left "No Sports Wear, No Headbands" WTF?

Also, it seems to be the poorest and dirtiest level, I guess the mens don't mind they don't get hieroglyphics. They do get Asshole Alley though...

What if we combine the PE + Oncology Dept at Stanford?

ted d. said...

um, what if you opened "Fact or Friction: The Swingers Club for Readers"

Derek said...

Fact or Friction? Sign me up. Tht's the best thing ever.