One Hot Summer

So it was snowing and icing and the temperature was plummeting. I’d just finished up with my work visit to Lumbus and I had my usual late flight. I stumbled in around 4 (almost literally as the parking lot was unsalted glare ice). No cover charge. Behind the counter were two bartenders. 3 PL’s were scattered around the club. Three dancers were intermittently present in the large empty room. An empty bit bright stage beckoned apparently no one while classic rock played.

The bartender took a drink order. Happy hour beers were one for $4 or four for $10. (!!!!). Hoping to be able to walk straight back to my car later, I went for the less impressive deal.

As my coat hanging to the chair fell to the floor, the clicking of stilettos followed. A lovely blonde spinner materialized, offering my hat and scarf to me, sitting down in the empty seat at the bar as I rehung my coat. Her name is Summer, and her voice was one of Appalachia. A veteran of the club who is still in her 20s, with blue eyes, stylish tats and a round soft but lumber body, she seemed somewhat reserved but we began friendly and relaxed conversation about travel, clubs around the country, and Columbus. The bartender offered girl-drinks a few minutes later.