Recently I haven't dared go out for massages because of the pandemic, but today I went to a spa in Ximen. At the entrance they sprayed alcohol disinfectant and took my forehead temperature, which made me feel a bit relieved — at least they were screening out people with fevers. I happily went into the room, but then I was floored... The therapist sprayed alcohol on his body to show me — the only thing missing was a pool of alcohol to soak in. It felt like he was making a point that he was practically wearing alcohol as clothing. He even rubbed and wiped off the excess with toilet paper, so clean that I really didn't have to worry about coronavirus lingering on him. During the massage it felt like being in a sterile negative-pressure room; the therapist was massaging seriously, and to my surprise I started to enjoy it. While I was enjoying it and occasionally opened my eyes to peek at him, little white dots floated around in the dim room and I wondered why there were fireflies inside. When I tried to look more closely I realized it was a piece of toilet paper stuck to the therapist's butt (it must have had some fluorescent agent). It instantly became a disaster — should I reach back to peel it off for him or just tell him? All I could think of was Faye Wong's song title "Goodbye Fireflies." I can only say: the cleaning was extremely thorough and the pressure was deep, but they missed a small detail. Alcohol disinfection — OK. Toilet paper stuck to the butt — not OK.