A Waste

THE FIRE

 

The A.C. is on plus three ceiling fans set on high. They turn non-stop between 11 p.m. and midnite. Rough, vile language spills from the mouths of rough, vile men. The beautiful young bodies, about as naked as they can be, contort themselves, swing madly around the six chrome poles. One lady in particular, must still be a child, fourteen at most and I wonder if she fooled Johnny, the manager, or not. He has been known to be greedy, looking out for business.

 

My eyes are enchanted. Her youthful body doesn't have a mark on it, not even an appendix scar. Soft, pliable breasts that don't flop or sag, are topped with a red and tasty cherry. They belie her youth. That fantastic body is hot, hot in every respect. Beads of perspiration begin to trickle down her spine. Cat calls, whistles, dirty remarks, grabbing hands touching private places with fifty dollar bills stimulate me and disgust me.

 

Although I've occasionally been to booby traps like this, I begin to wish I hadn't come to this one. I couldn't turn down Lee's invitation to his bachelor party, could I? 'Hey, Lee,' I call over the cacophony of shouting and laughter. 'I'm going to move to Harold's table, mix with the guys.'

 

Who was I kidding? Lee's table is bulging with Lee's friends and strangers. It is only one foot away from the stage. Lots of action there. The young beauty I have been staring at stands in front of me, sits down on the edge of the stage and spreads her legs wide in my face. I know the routine, stuff a bill or two way up there, but I can't do it. The child is smart. She quickly moves to the next man without losing her timing. He grabs her leg and starts pulling her to his lap.

A hush comes over the table. Little Lady, Little Lady kicks him in his gonads with her high silver heels. His yelps rings from the ceiling. Johnny is there in a split second with two strong goons who just about lifts the customer and throws him out the door. The place settles down. The music, the humping and thumping grows rowdy again. I have a beer and another beer and that's enough. 'Hey, Lee. Good luck Sunday. I'll be sitting in the first pew on the left. Smile going down the aisle. It might be the last time you do.'  No sense saying so long to all the guys. It might break up the party so I leave while still able to walk and drive.  

 

Our automatic house lights are on. The garage door is closed. Nobody is home.  I must smell bad and foolishly take an invigorating shower, climb into bed. Still a little beer dizzy, I see the beautiful hot child dancing on my ceiling, take care of her and fall asleep.

 

Monday 6 a.m. news broadcast tells of a body found in the back of a bar on 12th St. I jump to a foolish and frightening conclusion. I turn the set on louder and learn that the body is female, young, fully clothed. Whew. That wouldn't be the one I watched, could it? The evening news tears me apart. A photograph is asking for a name. I don't need one. That she had used false papers to get a job in a bar, left Johnny pretty much in the clear.

 

For days and nights she stays alive. I dream about her but each night her hot body cools off a little more. I go to the police station to tell them about the over anxious patron who got his gonads disjointed, but they know that already.

 

The case goes cold and dies.