It's all about timing

It was all about timing. I knew better. Dayshift ended sharply at 7pm, and no earlier than 9:30 did any of the night entertainers start sprawling in. I stayed, anyway, and left happy without spending an arm and a leg.

I knew there was no cover charge before 7pm. I opted for the $7 valet (ended up paying $10, including tip). Mandatory coat check was $2 ($3 with tip). And happy hour was still going on (ended at 7 as well): two-for-one you-call-its, $15 domestic buckets, and $20 import buckets. Since happy hour was almost over, I asked the waitress what the strongest drink she could make was. She handed me two DUI's*. I didn't normally drink fru fru cocktails, but they tasted exactly what I imagine Hawaii is like this time of year. That, and I wasn't leaving anytime soon.

Around tthe same time my drinks arrived, one of the girls approached the bar—not great looking, but doable. She sat next to me, introducing herself with the Washington Park handshake. “This one spoke my language,” I said to myself. She told me she gets off in 20 minutes. Then, she starts giving me a handy right in the middle of the club. She whispered in my ear: $60 for a blowy, $100 for the kitty; as she pulled her thong down, I got a slight whiff of her foul-smelling nether regions. Whoa. Wasn't touching that.