I was idly watching a sci-fi marathon on TV when J's voice pierced through my half-dead state ,"I don't like strip clubs." That got my attention and disbelief. I focused my gaze on this shameless poseur expecting to see the sarcasm that was absent from his voice to be written all over his face when H's voice caught me off-guard and chimed in, "Yeah, me too."
I am going mad, I thought. "They are hot, sexy and beautiful...." J babbled on. Ahh, normalcy. "....but it just doesn't feel right." I am hearing things! "You see them there and you just tend to pity them somewhat. It seems desperate too," H contributed. I must be drunk out of my wits. But J had more on the subject, "It's not really pity. I took my cousin there just a few weeks ago since he was hankering to go like how most of them do on their first time here but after a few minutes I just couldn't stay inside. I had to go out."
J continued, "The women actually enjoy it more. At the club we went to, the women were hooting loudly and enthusiastically--one even got up on the stage and danced. Their boyfriends or partners or whatever were just looking on more reservedly and looked like they'd rather be somewhere else." I can get used to this. But H had ideas of his own, "Nah, the women don't enjoy it. But they'd want to look like they do so they won't seem like they are insecure."
Never thought whiskey can cause lucidity in men. I expected the hallucinations, though.
No comments:
Post a Comment