not what I expected

My workplace is salubriously located a few doors down from a brothel. It’s mostly quite unassuming (except for the name of the establishment which is painted in large letters on the front window – thereby not really constituting what is usually thought of as ‘unassuming’ at all). By and large however, it’s pretty discreet. Its interior is normally left strictly to the imagination. Except for this morning. As I wandered by it was obvious that the front door had been kicked in (all that splintered wood on the pavement and the door lying on its side in the driveway was a sure sign). Trouble. But also an opportunity for a glimpse into the unknown. What lies within? Something gaudy? Something tawrdy? Spangles? Mirrors? Exotica? Erotica? What? What?
I looked. And I saw …. roomy, floral, comfy-looking couches. Like what your Nanna has in her loungeroom. Couches you could curl up and watch TV with a lovely cup of tea ‘n a biscuit on.
Tawdry? Ha! It looked cosy.
It was a bit disappointing really.