California sheriff’s massage explanation has nice touch, as alibis go

This is a story without a happy ending, one that may be a little too touchy-feely for some readers.

I am, of course, talking about the recent news that San Mateo Sheriff Greg Munks was caught with his pants down, metaphorically speaking, in a multi-agency law enforcement raid while supposedly seeking a massage at a local illegal brothel.

Was the Californian trying to put the cop in copulation, or merely attempting to work out his kinks in Vegas?

To hear Munks tell it, he and Undersheriff Carlos Bolanos were victims of bad information. They were looking for a massage in all the wrong places, if you know what I mean.

Instead of ending up at a legitimate health spa, or at one of the endless licensed rub joints whose neon lights call out to tourists and locals 24 hours a day, they wound up in a private residence without so much as the glow of a red, 40-watt bulb on the front porch.

Speaking of things red, Munks' face managed to remain straight as he explained he was only seeking healing succor and not something more scintillating.

Munks and Bolanos were officially in Southern Nevada to participate in the annual Baker to Las Vegas Challenge Cup Rally when they wound up in the middle of the Operation Doll House prostitution raid. At least they didn't try to claim they were working undercover.

The fact they weren't arrested -- no johns, I mean customers, were -- surely gives little solace to all the poor slobs who get scooped up by Metro Vice while trying to commune with the midnight angels on the shadowed end of Fremont Street.

Is it too late for them to claim they were only seeking relief for their sore necks?

All Munks and Bolanos had to do was come up with a plausible explanation for their presence in a whorehouse.

Bolanos, at least, was still standing outside when the police arrived.

Munks, who took office in January after running unopposed, apologized for his "lack of judgment."

Something tells me the married Munks will be apologizing for a long time to come.

"I believed I was going to a legitimate business," he said in a brief yet remarkably comical statement. "It was not."

This raises the issue of whether Munks possesses the powers of discernment most people believe a sheriff ought to have to do the job. If you wind up at a private home seeking a massage from a girl who charges $300 a throw and you don't know where you are, Lt. Columbo you ain't.

Whenever I'm seeking a massage, I eschew the hotel directory, concierge, or in-house health club. Instead, I ask a limo driver.

Cabbies are good, too, because of their advanced knowledge of shiatsu.

If that fails, I try a bellhop. They're into the healing arts, and many have cell phones jammed with numbers of the best little masseuses money can buy by the hour.

If they're not available, I flag down the grinning guy with the gold tooth, feathered fedora, and lavender suit. He drives a pink Cadillac with custom wheels. He holds a veritable Ph.D. in advanced massage techniques. And Dr. Love even accepts MasterCard and Visa.

To add to the comedy lounge atmosphere of Munks' denial, a San Mateo County sheriff's office spokeswoman dutifully focused not on the obvious ethical and potential criminal implications, but on the fiscal ones.

"Each participant paid for their own prostitute," the spokeswoman might have said.

Actually, she said, "Each participant paid their own way for the trip."

Which is a good thing, because at an average of $300 per "massage," cash-strapped San Mateo County might feel the pinch.

Instead of apologizing and having the sense to shut up, Munks couldn't help himself. He added, "I would not, nor did I, break any laws. Neither did the undersheriff."

Actually, Kojak, while frequenting a whorehouse targeted in an international organized crime human trafficking investigation might not technically be illegal, the legality issue is nothing to start splitting hairs over.

Folks in the California community seem to agree.

A recent informal survey by the San Mateo County Times found that 83 percent of respondents believed Munks needed to immediately seek a new line of work.

I disagree. From the sounds of things, Sheriff Munks has a big future in politics.

He's already skilled at massaging reality.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.