I was listening to the radio this morning and heard the most horrific piece of news since Kris and Bruce’s separation. Brace yourselves. There are places that exist to provide snuggles at a per-hour rate. SNUGGLES. I can’t even begin to explain my feelings toward this. No wait, yes I can.
I’m not a snuggler. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again if that’s what it takes to keep people from spooning me. There are very few situations that I feel warrant full body-to-body contact and those situations usually end in a walk of shame. If we’re going to “hook up”, as the youths say, then fine. Let’s get to it. I don’t need you to embrace me tenderly for half an hour. That’s only going to make my mind wander to terribly unsexy things like how often you wash your hair or whether or not you’ve ever shaved your arms. If we’re done getting sexy and it’s time to sleep, then great. Let’s sleep. On our respective sides of the bed without touching any parts of our bodies. Even in the dead of winter, it’s too hot to smush your skin up against another person all night. Especially when that person sweats like it’s their job to re-hydrate the bed, the planet and all the people on it. Ick.
I understand that there are people who really like to snuggle. Watching a movie? Snuggle. Reading the Hunger Games? Canoodle time. Sleepover? Spoon-city. Most of these people in question are women, admittedly. It must be that intimacy thing in which I’m forever lacking understanding. The entire Lesbian Legion holds snuggling in such high esteem that they’re genuinely horrified to learn that I’d rather not be touched. Platonically. I’m someone who really enjoys my personal bubble and only a select few people are allowed inside it. The bubble, that is. Of course, those rules all go out the window if I’ve been drinking. If I’ve had a few, I’m up for hugs, swing dancing, couples-skating…whatever you want. As long as I’m good and socially lubricated. Otherwise there’s all that awkward friction.
Since I have such a lack of understanding of the allure of snuggling, you can imagine my confusion at the need for a place of business that provides snuggling for a fee. It stands to reason that the people paying for an hour of snuggling with a stranger can’t stand living in a spoon-free world and simply must get some platonic body-to-body contact. In my world, these people are all women. I can not for the life of me think of a man who will spend $60 to go embrace a pajama-clad woman for an hour and not then touch her naughty bits. It seems to me like this man in question would just spend the $60 on a street corner instead. Or Craigslist…wherever it is prostitutes hang out these days. It sure beats the shame of letting the credit card company see a charge for “Snuggle House” on your statement and knowing they all spent a full hour laughing at you and pontificating about your sad existence. Yes, I said that visiting a prostitute for sex beats the shame of going to a “Snuggle House” and paying to lay next to a woman. I said it.
It would make more sense to me if this place was staffed only by slightly chubby, hilarious men with great facial hair. Those guys are just asking for a good, hard snuggle and since women typically like snuggling more…wouldn’t it make sense to cater to their sad, pathetic needs? I don’t understand the idea behind having only young women (and apparently one long-haired man who looks a lot like Michael Bolton) on the snuggle-staff. Are there criteria for patrons? Can they turn someone away if they have excessive body odor, a scratchy beard or an erection? I mean, really?! I need to know everything about these so called “Snuggle Houses” and I’d really like to get a look at that business plan. What did the loan officer say when the idea of a brothel for cuddling came up? Did they even need a small business loan? So many unanswered questions!
In closing, I’m really skeeved out by the idea of a place where people pay a stranger $60 an hour to embrace them intimately in a publicly shared bed. But if you’re in the market for some crippling shame or perhaps a bout of scabies, there’s evidently a “Snuggle House” in Madison, Wisconsin.