Working the Electronic Corner

KUNMING, China - Prostitutes aren't stupid.

One rang me up at the Golden Bridge Hotel just a couple hours ago. "I heard you're staying until six this evening," a female voice said. "What are you doing? Do you want a massage?"

I declined, not wanting the elicit the services of anyone working at this dive-y hotel next to the railway station. The shower didn't work, the sink held several years worth of mildew and my pillow had a yellow stain on the right corner. I'll take my foot rubs somewhere else.

But how did the prostitute (Let me clarify something here: When a woman calls a hotel room in China soliciting massages, she's always a prostitute, or at least a madam.) know I'd decided to spend a couple extra hours at the Golden Bridge?

Her call came only ten minutes after a furious argument at the front desk. After arriving at one in the morning, Zack and I made it out of the room at 12:40, over half an hour after the official check out time. Now I'm not a morning person, and I frequently make it out just after the official leaving time. I've always been able to cajole my way out of paying the extra fee. Not here.

"Foreigners and Chinese are the same!" the fuyuan at the counter said. "Everyone pays the fee!"

"You're cheating me!" I howled back. "We stayed here not even 11 hours."

"It's the all the same!"

This went on for several minutes, until I was forced to make a tactical retreat. I accepted paying the half-day charge, but swore to be in my room until 6 p.m., the maximum time alloted. I would get my revenge my disrupting the routine of the cleaning woman. It's a petty move, but sometimes I'm petty.

And the hotel staff had their revenge. While I stormed back up to the fifth floor with my backpack, they placed a call to the hotel's massage liaison. There's a couple of waiguoren in Room 526 looking for some action.