Back in the mid-1980's a group of men in my office made plans to visit a Gentlemen's Club (I don't think they called it that but I want to be politically correct) in downtown NYC. I figured I'd join them since I'd never been before and try anything once, right?
It was an extraordinary experience. After looking around to get acclimated I was having trouble dealing with what I was seeing from the women onstage. I found myself concentrating my infatuations on a cute bartender who studiously kept her clothes on. She was very pretty and seemed nice.
At one point I did tip one of the dancers onstage $5 and mere moments later she materialized next to me in all her glory to engage in coversation. "Humina humina humina" I said before she lost interest and retreated. Apparently $1 gets you a smile and $5 gets you a personal conversation (the higher levels of the reward program remain a mystery to me). Leaving the club that night I decided I could never go back because, quoting myself, "I liked it way.y.y too much."
Fast forward close to ten years. A bunch of "Gentlemen" in one of my largest accounts on Wall Street were making plans to attend a Gentlemen's Club and they accosted me and insisted I join them. Given how critical the sales revenue was from this particular account to my career I saw no realistic way to demur. Despite being a married man I bowed to peer pressure and agreed to go along.
We walked in the midtown club and, after drinks and gawks, the primary technical recommender, Alex, insisted on buying me a lap dance with a beautiful dancer who introduced herself as Candy.
We made our way to a semi-private area. With my theatrical background I recognized immediately the extraordinary workmanship of her costume. In the shape of a bathing suit it was built to withstand daily shows for years on end such was the quality of the material and stitching.
Her makeup was impeccable. Her hair was thick and luxurious. Her gaze was warm, open, direct and penetrating. My suddenly sharpened olfactory powers detected two, possibly three, different and delightful scents. And did I mention she was beautiful?
Candy turned her back to my sitting form and proceeded to "dance" for me making contact between her flawless derriere (through her costume and my suit) to my rather confused private parts. I remained still as a statue while she plied her trade. She "danced" for awhile then turned to face me, concerned. She asked, "Are you enjoying this?" I replied, "Oh, yes, very much!". Satisfied she turned back around and resumed her artistry.
Her work almost complete she turned to face me and looked at me long and a bit quizzically. She slowly leaned forward without taking her eyes from mine and gently touched her lips against mine - pausing for the merest of moments with the slightest pressure in an honest-to-gawrsh kiss - before pulling back. She met my helpless gaze with sparkling eyes and smiled a tiny smile before disappearing.
I tipped her $20 at some point in all this which seemed generous at the time but doesn't now. I wish I could remember whether she kissed me before, or after, I gave her the tip.
I never returned because I liked it way.y.y too much. Nonetheless I still think of Candy from time to time.
I wonder if she still thinks of me.
Candy . . .