Candee

They were cruising the street, hopping from bar to bar and generally making asses of themselves all in the name of Randall’s bachelor party. The troop of testosterone rank boys were now drunk enough to enter the Lusty Lass.

“Lap dances everybody! Lap dances!” Peter yelled in a ‘charge ho’ motion as he led the way down the street and into the flashing lights and neon of the strip bar.

The bass heavy bump and grind music was thunder in the ears. It was dark as a cave, hiding the faces of the lumps shambled over in chairs, except for the blinding, fierce spotlight examining the performer on stage.

The group of boys was immediately swarmed by a midget fleet of scantily clad ladies, fresh meat and money had been sniffed out. Peter whispered something into the ear of a buxom lass who laughed amicably and took a wad of cash from him.

“Lenny!” Peter called. “You get a lap dance!”

Lenny was nervous and was trying not to show it. He had never been in a strip bar before, and frankly all of this in your face sexuality made him feel off balance. He stood himself up straight and laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“I think I need another drink first,” he said in his best, deep, self-assured voice.

“Go with Candee and get you a lap dance!” Peter boomed.

Candee put her hand lightly on Lenny’s arm and led him back behind a velvet curtain.

Peter turned his attention to the show on the stage. It was amazing the sort of contortions this woman could put herself into. There were things being done with a stiletto heel shoe that just shouldn’t be done. Dollars were flying onto the stage like slow drifting flower petals, long and green. Peter stood mesmerized through one bad song and was beginning to sway to another when Lenny tapped him on the shoulder.

“How was it my man?” Peter asked with a lascivious smile.

“She’s very talented,” Lenny said, pulling an orange balloon animal from behind his back.

Peter stared with disbelief. “What the fuck is that?”

“I think it’s a giraffe.”