An Institution

Made the trek down Route 130 from Central Jersey in a mix of anticipation and anxiety, per usual. Made the turn quickly into the parking lot of this pink establishment as some middle-aged lady was tailgaiting me as to avoid getting rear-ended. Parked. Gathered my currency into both pockets. Avoided eye contact with the other patron still sitting in his truck as I made my way to the door. Walked in, and immediately couldn't see much of anything. I was greeted in the dark immediately by a Brazilian dancer I've had dances with a half dozen times. Put a couple dollars in her lingerie and paid for my $10 water. I feel awkward about turning down a dancer I'm at all attracted to, so instead of scoping out the place and waiting to see who was there, elected to get dances with this first dancer who approached me. We made our way to one of the rooms, I set my water on the side, and she commenced to sit on me and provide a welcome and somewhat spirited grind for three songs. At some point a fountain erupted and the importunate need to be there subsided. I awkwardly made my way out, stepped into the sunlight reflecting on the reality of male heterosexual desire, tossed my untouched bottle of water in the back seat, turned onto Route 130, made an illegal u-turn to go north, and sped off to do errands for the day, including buying exquisite pizza for dinner.