(image via: Tom Richardson)
Naturally, a soapland of this size needed a lot of hot water and in what might seem like a recipe for disaster, the Queen Chateau’s boiler room was situated on the roof. If you know even a little about how rust and gravity work, then you don’t want to be anywhere in the building when those two physical processes combine to reach their inevitable conclusion. A tip of the hat to Flickr user Tom Richardson who captured the above image of the Queen Chateau soapland’s boiler room in late October of 2009.
No Deposit, No Return
The Queen Chateau must have been Party Central back in the day, and what’s a party without refreshing beverages? Judging from the thick layer of dust encrusting these bottles, “back in the day” was more accurately “back in the decade”. Since then, the Queen Chateau’s been dryer than certain counties in West Texas in the middle of an epic drought.
What’s a party without refreshing beverages AND a multimedia sound and light show? Nowheresville, man! It seems that each room of the Queen Chateau soapland (including the bar) was equipped to unleash a sound and light extravaganza that would make the wizards at Industrial Light & Magic blush. In this respect, soaplands like the Queen Chateau borrowed a page from their Love Hotel cousins and likely added significant profits to the Toshiba company’s bottom line.
Shoes Your Partner
(image via: Tokyo Times)
The 800lb gorilla in each of the Queen Chateau’s decrepit rooms is, of course, the sordid despondency which was the daily grind for the female service providers. In all likelihood, the staff were illegal foreign workers whose lives were under the strict control of the management from noon to midnight and back. It may be that overt or discrete pressure from the authorities on this issue led to the Queen Chateau soapland’s sudden closing and abandonment. The petite (UK size 3) pair of silver shoes shown above are a fragile yet powerful reminder that the business of pleasure is all too often only pleasurable for a few.