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Mirrored Balls

May 4, 2011

Jake, the goombah, and I go dancing into this joint named “Star’s Bar”. Dark and cool and smells like smoke and beer and lipstick. There’s 4 mirrored balls on the ceiling, one in each corner of this not so big strip club. The habitues are in what are probably their regular chairs, strewn about the place and none sitting too close to one another. The girl on stage is writhing to old Led Zeppelin and I guessed that each girl got to choose whatever tunes they wanted, and this gal’s parents were hippies.  She is a very dark-skinned black girl with a stunner of a body and a set of teeth that belonged on a power saw. She’s givin’ it hell though and I had to stop and look for a bit. The lime green bikini she has on hides nothing.

Harvey patted my arm, “It gets better….much better” sez he. He steers me over to a booth close to the edge of the stage and we sit and wait to order, me all the while eyeing this fantastic body with the face to protect it. The girl sees me watchin’ and whips off the top of her bikini. Nipples like the erasers on a number 2 pencil and the tidiest little cupcake titties you ever saw. Now we’re gettin somewhere sez I.

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