The old guy in the corner

This particular variation on the theme is the stereotypical old worn out farmer. Wiry frame, leathery skin, grizzled face, stooped back, faded coveralls and worn out boots. This guy was a grandfather when God was a mewling baby, but still obviously healthy. A firm, steady handshake, clear eyes, and no shuffling or anything like that when he walks. I've seen him in here a few times, and the last couple he and I have exchanged nods.

On this occasion, he's been sitting there for about a half hour, with almost no action but an occasional hug from one the girls. All the girls, pretty much.

Until, one of the hottest dancers in the club (I've seen her working once in a while) comes in and before even getting (un)dressed for work, sees him, walks over, and with barely a word takes his hand, leads him over to the bar where he pulls out his money, and then takes him back to the VIP.

So I ask my ATF who he is. "He comes in about once a month and spends about $1,000 on [that girl], and some more on some others sometimes."

I made a smart ass comment about "hope he's getting his money's worth," to which she responded, "From what I hear, he does, two or three. And then he comes back out and goes back with somebody else for an encore. He bought me a dance once, but he likes a finger up his butt when he gets blown, and I don't do that."

I nearly dropped my glass when she said that.

I hope I'm *half* as capable when I'm *half* his age.