Took pappy here after he got outta the slammer last spring. Pappy had only practiced kissing with Big Lou the Violator the whole 14 years he was locked up - and, needless to say, pappy's eyes had that curious look of desire lots of women nowadays call the "male gaze." (Pappy is an ardent feminist and he wanted me to add this.)
Anyway, we found a girl called "Peaches." She was pretty. But pappy was skeptical. "What's your real name?" pappy inquired.
"Samantha" she replied.
(He he. Pappy is one sharp cookie! I never could tell how he comes to know the stuff he knows. I NEVER knew they (strippers) changed their names. Scouts honor! [I like pappy cause he teaches me things.])
What would follow would later be known as "the clinic" in my neighborhood bar. Don Juan type-shit. Real smooth. Pappy spoke like Cyrano de Bergerac on two hits of xtc and a very high dose of Cialis. Prison life will do that to you. You have nothing but time to prepare for a moment like this. (Pappy nearly didn't make parole.) All that plus the Drakkar was too much for the poor girl.
"You're a very appealing woman." (That's old school stylie, pappy!)
"Thank you" she replied, batting her eyelids.
Hell Yeah! She fell like a chopped Christmas tree! Ka-BOOOOOOM!
Girls are pretty here. Music is bumpin'. Tip the poor sap in the bathroom. Don't complain about the price of the drinks.
I've heard some call this place "the Mint," while others have dubbed it "the Rhino." But not pappy and me
We call it heaven. Real life angels wiggling for our pleasure!