Moment of Passion Comes to a Shocking End
“A Zimbabwean woman was electrocuted and her lover burnt on his hands while having sex in an electricity substation in Zimbabwe’s second city Bulawayo, the New Ziana news agency reported on Sunday. The woman ‘believed to be a prostitute, was electrocuted while being intimate with her boyfriend’, the news agency said, quoting a witness. Owen Phiri said he heard a loud bang coming from the substation around 7:30am and ‘rushed to investigate’. Screams were heard inside the substation and when Phiri opened a door, he discovered the badly burnt woman, still alive, with her partner. She died shortly afterwards. A 21-year-old man was slightly burnt on his hands and taken in for questioning by the police, while electricians from the Zimbabwe Electricity Supply Authority (ZESA) were checking for damage inside the substation which had been left unlocked.” —Independent Online (South Africa)
No matter where you live, you can find yourself amazed at the peculiar places that couples choose to indulge their amatory urges. If you live in the country, you can stumble on a humping pair in a grain silo. If you live in the city, you can find spontaneous outbreaks of passion in the local park or in poorly lit doorways. Here in New York, sometimes you even see an astonishing amount of lewd activity on the subway — though too often this lewd activity is committed by a smelly homeless man who decides somewhere between Penn Station and Times Square to touch himself. (And then the peculiar thing is how phlegmatic New Yorkers can be in the presence of a masturbating bum. You don’t know the true meaning of cynicism until you’ve seen somebody eat a bagel five feet from a vagrant beating his meat.)
Sometimes people are so desperate to find an impromptu love nest that they end up doing things that are not just exhibitionistic but stupid and even dangerous. Current exhibit: having sex in an electricity substation. Unless you’re an electrician or, for whatever reason, you really know what you’re doing in there, it’s plainly a bad idea. Suppose you’re in the grip of orgasm. You’re thrashing madly about. Without even realizing what you’re doing, you grip something nearby — and then zap! Buzz! Zap! Zzzzz! Suddenly that penis inside you feels like one of those wands that divers use to shock dangerous stingrays. And then you’re dead. What fun is that?
This is why “love hotels” exist here in Japan. Although I suppose some might like to burn their ass in flagarante (like the folks in this article) that is certainly not everyone’s kink, hence the love hotel phenomenon. For those who don’t know, a love hotel is, well, a hotel but one which couples go to spend a few minutes of intimacy together (and about 3,000 to 5,000 yen, or $25 – $45). The hotels range from the fairly seedy to quite lavish. In addition to a big bed, they often have video games, karaoke, huge bath tubs, etc., of course all in your private room. These days, sort of like the people in the quoted article, love hotels seem to be a place where pros bring their customers, but I am sure a healthy portion of the Tokyo love hotel’s clientel are still lovelorn couples in search of a place to shag. Because space is at such a premium here, and privacy hard to come by, the love hotel business still is doing fine.
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Hook-Ups