8.15: What the Fu- Oh... well, it is Vegas.

NOTE: The Fu was the beginning of fudge. ;) Also, strippers so, um, yeah. If you're easily offended... you know the drill. (Drill = don't read)

   "Here we are: The Pharoh's Tomb Dance Club!" Harold, one of Walter Wallace's friends announced.
   "Why couldn't we have gone to Intergalactic Casino?" Morris, a forty-nine year old paprika and salt haired man, asked. "I'm ready for some gambling; not any of this dance and loud music, that's the scene me teenagers would prefer, but not me."
   "Because." Walter said, winking at Harold. "It's Harbor's scene. Also we went there the last three nights."
   "Scene? Um, not exactly..."I mumbled.
   "Kid." Morris whispered. "Just go with it- I am... in a way."
   "Sure." I said, feeling a little odd being called kid. Morris was fifteen years old than me, so I could have been his kid depending on how bad his choices were in high school, but still; I had my own children, I was not a child.
   "Okay, here's the plan." Harold said. "This place has strippers and all of our lovely, lovely wives agreed to a look but no touch- trust me if there's any touching they'll sue us to death and get everything in the divorce- policy, just for tonight. We'll watch a little, then, after an hour, give each stripper three hundred bucks so she can maybe try and do something that isn't taking off her clothes in front of horny old mean, next we'll go gambling." Three hundred?! I glanced at Walter who shrugged and mouthed "Don't worry- not you."
   "Sounds good." Walter and Morris said, Morris a little more reluctant than everyone else. We all began walking into the club.
   The lights and smoke hit me first; it was dark and noisy and smelled like vanilla, tequila, sweat, and something I couldn't recognize. The strobe lights and dance pop and flashing sign that said "WOMAN THIS WAY" with a neon pink, glittery arrow towards a door defiantly wasn't my scene.
   "Morris and I are going to go get some beer." Harold said, walking over to the bar.
   "Harbor, come over here!" Walter exclaimed, leading up up some stairs to a loft area.

   "What are we-" Suddenly, a stone wall began crumbling behind me and I jumped up, startled. "What the fu-?"
   "Oh... well, it is Vegas." He chuckled. "Come on." I followed him, curious about where he was leading us. The first glaring detail about the room was the apparent smokiness and orange gobo lights that flooded the room with a peculiar tint.
   "What is this I?"
   "You mean where, don't you?" He smirked, not unkindly, just all knowingly.
   "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, I'm thankful for the trip, but honestly we don't have to go anywhere just for me."
   "Harbor, the men and I have arranged a little, ehem, surprise for you."
   "Pardon?" I nervously asked, fear growing in the pit of my stomach.
   "You said you hadn't really had a relationship or anything vaguely date like since your ex." I nodded, glancing from his face to my shoe and back. What had they done? "We thought we'd remedy that situation."
   "Remedy, but- oh damn." Realization hit me; we were at a strip slash dance club and were in a private area with a sign that said 'EXCLUSIVE: PAY BY THE HOUR' pointing to a line of doors.
   "We're just to help you, Harbor."
   "I know, but... is that really right?"
   "The hour is already paid for... you might as well at leas go in- you don't have to do anything. Besides, she's a stripper, not a prostitute, there wouldn't be any sex anyway."

   "Can we not discuss potential coitus partners? Please?" Especially if we were going to bring up Maya; it had been a month since it happened and since then our relationship had gone back to normal, just a tad more civil.
   "I'll stop if you go in there."
   "Oh dear... what are we twelve?"
   "Do twelve years olds talk about sex? I sure didn't..."
   "I- never mind."
   "Harbor, man, c'mon. You said you didn't want to ruin anything and by not going, there's two hundred forty dollars down the metaphorical drain."
   "Two hundred forty?!"
   "Four dollars a minute." He shrugged.
   "Fine..." I sighed, sauntering off towards the room he pointed to.

   "So..." I mumbled to myself, glancing around the space that had a muted orange couch in the middle of it. The room was also a smoke filled, strobe and gobo lit space that made my eyes hurt- I was getting old.
   "Hey, lova boy." A silky voice murmered. I felt her long fingers pulling on my hand, leading me into the room so the curtain could fall, covering the archway.
   "I-I..." I felt her coming closer, the sweet scent of her perfume creeping into my nostrils.
   "You're strong, aren't you?" She pressed her hand against my chest, running it down. "I do want to see." She leaned forward, revealing her rather large- ehem, endowments.
   "You're very attractive."
   "Why thank you... but we're here for you, not me." She began weaving her hands around me, leaning forward, then she was kissing me and I willingly opened my mouth, hoping for more.

   "I do..." I whispered, when she pulled away. I moved my hand up from her lower back to her upper front and felt a bit; they were real.
   "Oh!" She exclaimed in pleasure. She began backing up, towards the wall, and I followed. I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist, her delicate fingers fiddling with the buttons on my shirt as we continued kissing. I felt some movement and blushed, as she wiggled an eyebrow.
   "You're excited so easily..." She set a foot down, then slide against the wall, down, licking my abs as she did. I felt my blush intensifying- did people do that; caress the abdominal muscles of men they just met with their mouth? She stopped when she was bent down to waist level. "Maybe we should skip the foreplay?" She glanced at the bulge and began unbuttoning my pants.
   "Wait!"
   "I'm sorry, honey." She smoothly replied. "Whatcha want?"
   "Can you stand up please?"
   "Sure..." She slowly replied.

   "I'm sorry... it's just... we just met and you look so young; you could be my daughter."
   "Oh, I doubt that, honey."
   "You're what, nineteen?"
   "You're never suppose to ask a lady her age." She smirked, leaning closer. "And I'm twenty-six..."
   "Really?"
   "Yes."
   "Still, you're parents.. even if the age gap is okay, what would your father think?"
   "Oh dear God!" She spat, "I am not a stripper because I'm desperate, also I don't give a damn what my parents think! I'm a stripper because I like showing off my body and my tattooes. I designed every single one my goddamn self and I'm sick of listening to strippers getting a bad rap and how the parents must have fudged up. I took a woman's suffrage and feminist class and learned that this career isn't degrading, it is people's opinions that make it so. Besides, I don't even have sew with anyone; all I do is get paid to get naked and maybe go to third base!
   I have a bachelor's in fine art with an emphasis on sculpting and a masters in education, so if you want to talk about what my parents think, I'll tell you what they think. They're proud that I'm supporting myself while job searching and have paid off all my college loans, even though I only graduated a year ago." She looked at my triumphantly, just before regret started pooling in her eyed. "Sugar; you're a client... dammit."
   "No, no... I'm sorry. I didn't mean, to, um, offend."
   "No, no, I'm sorry." She sighed, sitting down on the couch in the center of the room. "it has been a long, long day for me... I live in LA and drive here nights and weekends to strip and i haven't had any luck finding a job as a teacher, with the cruddy budgets and education standards... and I'm rambling again. Sorry."
   "No, no. It's fine, honestly." I smiled, sitting down next to her. "I'm Harbor."
   "Nice to meet you." She smiled. "I'm..." She paused, as if pondering whether or not she should tell me her real name. "I go by Violet Glitterbottom in Vegas." She shrugged. "We aren't suppose to clients our real name, because, you know."
   "May I buy you a drink, Violet?"
   "I..." She smirked once more, looking down at me seductively. "Don't you want what you paid for, first?"
   "I... paid for?"
   "We can't have sex, but there is a lot, lot, of naughty, naughty things we can do... if you'd like me to teach you, maybe I can...." And with that, she began pulling on her leotard's straps, biting her lips and sticking her bosom closer to my face.
   "What the hell." I muttered and with that I began kissing her and she began kissing me and soon our activities elevated to a level of sweaty, naughtiness usually reserved for  the soulmate you'd been with for forever.

Later...

   "Hehee bahtenda, notha roun-nd." I said, gesturing towards pretty purple haired girl... Violet.
   "I'm sorry, you're cut off."
   "Nah, nah, nah!" Violet sulked. "What ef-f I show ya meh boobies?"
   "I'm sorry." She said, wiping off the counter.
   "Fin-ne-e! Hahh-buh, we go to bubble bahhh! You eva tried water pipes?"
   "Nah, I hav-ve not."
   "Let's go try it-t! It is fun."
   "Allhh-r-right."

   "Heh... bubbles..."
   "Your heads big!"
   "You're cr-razz-y." I giggled. "But youuu have a bigger head and it dancing!" Suddenly, my little black box began ringing. "Magic box, magic box is singing to me, dude."
   "Nah, it ya phone. Answer, answer, answer."
   "Hellos?" I asked, stumbling up towards the door. "Who is thi-his?"
   "Harbor?! Are you drunk?"
   "Nah, I not-t drunk."
   "This is serious."
   "Sirius is with Harry, I Harbor."
   "Huh? What in- never mind. Harbor, are you sitting down?"
   "I Hahh-bor. Who you, magic box?"
   "What the hell? I'm Maya... Harbor, please tell me you're not intoxicated."
   "Nah, I okay."
   "Great. Don't panic, I don't want you to worry, but..."
   "I gots daughtass... they okays?"
   "Yes. Harbor, I'm-" And the magic box went dead.
   "Magic box! Live! Live! You have so much left to do, so much left... Bye, bye." I dropped my phone onto the ground. "I go find Wallie, he gimme phone to borrow."

   "WALLIE!" I screamed, stumbling over to him. "I needa call, Maya... can I uses your phon-ne?"
   "Sure, here. Hey, I think Harris and Morris are ready to head back to the hotel room, so..."
   "You go, go! I stay with Violet-t." I smiled, then dialed Maya's number.
   "Hello, Maya Bayonet speaking."
   "Hahhhh-buh'ss back, baby."
   "Harbor! What the hell?"
   "Ya know it."
   "That makes no sense. This is serious."
   "Sirius is with Harry."
   "That joke isn't any funnier the second time."
   "Ye-s-s it is. Ha, ha-a."
   "Harbor I'm pregnant."
   "Whhhuhh." And with that I hung up, looking at the shiny screen.

   "My friend has a tiny bab-b-by in her. I gots to go."
   "Harb-bor, look at me." Violet called out; she had fallen out of the contraption she'd managed to strap herself into.

   "Violet, mah friend gots tin-ny person in her. I gots to go."
   "No, no. I wanna stay-y you here."
   "Huh? Nah, it okay. I go home now."
   "What? But-t-t... Hehehe."
   "Hehe."
   "Hahaha. You funny."
   "Me is?"
   "Yes, ye-es-s. You ar-rre."
   "How-w? Haha."
   "You just is-s."
   "Take pictu-r-re with me, w show May-ya!"
   "My yay-yay? Who tha-at?"
   "Fr-riend with tiny-y person in her."
   "Hehe. Okays!" I pulled out the phone and, just as I pressed the captur eimage button, Violet leaned forward and kissed me.

   "Com-me on, now. We goe shave funs, th-then homes."
   "Yay, yay, my, my, may!" And with that, we sauntered, or stumbled, depending on who you asked, off, into Sin City, unaware of what the future held.