My Second Mistake

After leaving Scores, sometime after 3 in the morning, I set out on foot back to my hotel (yeah, probably not among the brightest of ideas). A driver from Scores had followed me down and was trying to talk me into accepting a ride from him, but I declined, which probably wasn't such a good idea on my part. (And, no, any decisions I made weren't influenced by alcohol. I don't drink. I'm just an idiot.) After several minutes of walking, I wandered onto my next mistake for the night: Diamond Cabaret.

I wasn't tired. I wasn't thirsty. I was just dumb with the thought of titties.

The doorman radioed in that a walk-up was there and opened the door for me. A little brunette who also acted as the server rang up my cover: $20. Hmm. Not bad.