Sharing my experience of encountering a license check while using acupressure to call a prostitute.
Table of contents
Chapter 1: A Terrifying Encounter Through the Door, Wrapped in a Towel, Handing Over an ID Card
I remember it vividly; the first time I encountered it, I was terrified. Just as we were getting into the swing of things, there was a sudden, urgent knocking on the door, accompanied by a low, authoritative shout: "Checking identification!" My soul nearly left my body. The woman in my arms reacted quickly, whispering urgently, "Quick! Wrap yourself in a towel and stand to the side!" I hurriedly grabbed a white towel and wrapped it around my lower body, cowering in the corner, barely daring to breathe. The woman cautiously opened the door just a tiny, almost imperceptible crack. A hand swiftly thrust a dark blue card through the crack—a police ID! The woman peered through the crack, squinted at it for a moment, then closed the door. The whole process took only a few seconds, silent yet breathtaking. The footsteps outside faded into the distance, and the two of us looked at each other, letting out a sigh of relief. My first experience: So checking identification could be this "civilized"—just a quick "verification" through a crack in the door and you're good to go. Then the person outside glanced at me twice and left. The woman and I looked at each other, and she smiled and said, "It's nothing, just a routine check." After that, everything went as usual, and the unfinished "program" continued.
Chapter Two: Pretending to be a Trapped Beast Upstairs, Waiting for the Storm
The second incident was arguably the most dramatic. Downstairs, there were "no vacancies" (implying there were no rooms available or there was unusual activity downstairs), so we were led to an upstairs unit. Just as things were getting intimate, we faintly heard unusual noises downstairs—heavy objects clattering, hurried footsteps, and indistinct voices. I knew something was wrong. Afterwards, my sister, her face grave, stopped me: "Don't leave the room! They're checking the license plates downstairs!" It turned out the noise was from the police knocking on doors and searching the rooms! During this time, the police did come up to our floor and pounded loudly on our tightly closed door; the "bang bang" was terrifying. My experienced sister gestured for us to hold our breath and remain silent, but they didn't budge, resolutely refusing to open the door, creating the illusion that the room was "vacant." After knocking for a while and seeing no response, the police seemed to move on. So, the two of us were trapped in the small room, barely daring to breathe, listening to the commotion outside, sometimes near, sometimes far. Time ticked by, feeling exceptionally long. During the wait, boredom set in, and as the adrenaline subsided, a ridiculous thought even crossed my mind: "Since I'm trapped anyway, why not...do some multi-Q?" Of course, in the tense atmosphere, this thought vanished in an instant. After nearly an hour of agonizing waiting, the noise downstairs gradually subsided. My sister cautiously peeked out, and only after confirming I was "unlocked" did she let me quietly leave. Lesson Four: When things get tense, even upstairs isn't absolutely safe; in case of danger, absolutely follow the instructions of the "locals" (such as not opening the door); patience is the only way out, and any improper thoughts (including "doing multi-Q") are both a luxury and dangerous.
Although there was no direct conversation with the police during this license check, the atmosphere was just as tense. The Miss Asia contestant and her friend handled the situation very professionally; they seemed to have mastered a complete "license avoidance" strategy. I reflected afterward that the survival rules in these places are truly different from our everyday world. They have to be prepared for unexpected situations at any time and remain calm, which is no easy feat.
Chapter Three: Letting the snakes into the urn, questioning them one by one, exchanging truth for freedom.
The third time was less fortunate; I ran into an undercover operation. I'd barely settled into my comfortable room when the door was flung open with a bang, and several plainclothes men rushed in, flashing their badges and shouting, "Police! Nobody move! ID cards!" The room, including my "fellow officers," was instantly like a caged turtle. The officers collected our badges one by one, questioning us in a chillingly detailed manner: "What's your name? What's your phone number? Where do you live?" I braced myself, clinging to a sliver of hope that "cooperating is better than being harassed," and gave them my real name, phone number, and address. When asked what would happen, the officer remained expressionless and said in a flat tone, "Don't worry, it's just a routine registration; they won't contact you." Despite these words, the wait felt like an eternity. In a small room, several naked or disheveled men filled the air with awkwardness and unease. After sitting there for almost an hour, I finally heard, "Okay, you can go." Just before leaving, a policeman gave me a "friendly reminder": "Hey, remember to give them their change! It's hard-earned money, they won't get cheated!" I was both amused and exasperated, and had no choice but to obediently hand over the money. Lesson Two: When you encounter an undercover operation, no matter how scared you are, you must cooperate and give the truth (at least superficially) to get things done quickly; but take the talk of "cheating" with a grain of salt. Looking back, this check was clearly an organized undercover operation, with the purpose of more than just checking IDs; there might be other "unspoken rules." I learned a lesson: In these kinds of places, never argue with anyone; discreet cooperation is the safest approach.
Chapter Four: Careless Mistakes Nearly Lead to Becoming a Witness
The fourth time, which could have been avoided, I carelessly fell into a trap. The target building had tight security, requiring a woman upstairs to open the gate. I had barely stepped through the gate when a "senior" slipped in right behind me. A thought crossed my mind: "Huh? That makes sense?" But I didn't investigate further, assuming he was just another customer. However, halfway through, a loud banging on the door rang out again—it was another snipe! The door opened, and several police officers rushed in, their target clear. What's even more troublesome is that one of the police officers pointed at two other people at the gate (including the one who followed me in) and sternly asked me, "Do you remember who greeted you when you came in? Was it him?" My mind raced: "If I say I remember, I'll have to be dragged back to the police station to give a statement, and I'll be a witness in court in no time. It's too much trouble!" So I said firmly, with a blank look on my face, "Sir, I really don't remember. Good heavens, how could I see that clearly?" The police officer stared at me for a few seconds, and seeing that my "statement" was consistent and "cooperative," he didn't ask any more questions. It was another long wait, checking the documents, and then letting me in. Lesson three: When entering the gate, be aware of your surroundings and be wary of strangers following you closely; if something goes wrong, "don't forget anything" is the golden rule, especially when it involves a "middleman." Having too good a memory will only cause trouble for yourself. The lesson learned is that in places like these, keen observation is crucial; a moment's inattention can lead to being caught off guard.
Summary and key takeaway: A low-key approach is key.
Having gone through four license checks, I've learned a lot. First, these "grey areas" in Hong Kong aren't actually illegal. As long as the woman has an ID card and is over 18, there's generally no major problem. However, never argue with the police or be sarcastic; creating trouble will only get you into trouble. Second, in these places, you need to "selectively forget" your memories. Don't remember too many details, especially who invited you in, or you might get dragged into trouble. Third, observation and vigilance are very important. If you see suspicious people or the environment seems off, turning around and leaving is the safest option.
Most importantly, you have to be low-key in these places and not think you're clever enough to outwit or outmaneuver others. Although the license checks are nerve-wracking, as long as you stay calm and don't reveal too much information, you can generally get through safely. These four experiences, while thrilling each time, are also quite funny in retrospect. Some experiences in life you really have to go through to understand their true meaning.
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