Why was I in a strip club? I hate these places but some times, you have to help out a friend. My friend, Matt, was going through a particularly rough divorce. His wife cheated on him and moved her boyfriend into the house while Matt was out of town on business. He came back to changed locks and a garbage bag full of his clothes. When he called and asked me to meet him, I felt like I owed it to him to be there despite objecting with the venue.
The strip club was on the edge of a very trendy shopping area. It was tucked behind several shops. If Matt hadn't told me how to get there, I wouldn't have even known it was there. It was a new club called something like Mystique. The sign was neon and written in script so it was hard to read what exactly it said. I went inside and was led to a table where Matt was sitting. It was dark inside and lit with some blacklights.
"Dude, this place is great," Matt said. "I've been coming here for awhile now. They pick out the perfect girls for you and just bring them over. No badgering for money. No trying to sell you shots. It's great."
"Yeah, well it's still not my thing," I said. "We couldn't just have met at a regular bar?"
"I'm telling you, you're going to love this. Just let the floor manager come over and talk to you. She'll pick out a girl for you." Matt waved his hand at someone.
A tall, thin woman sauntered over to the table. She had red hair and ruby red lips.
"Hello. I'm the floor manager," she said holding out her hand. I shook her hand and she held it for a minute staring into my eyes. "Hmm.....a tricky one. I think I have just the right girl for you." She motioned for a girl to come over.