Our second strip-stop for the night was the century theater.
This choice was made after we stopped off at a little neighborhood martini bar (for a few drops of liquid fortification) and had wailed our plight to another inebriated patron.

“Welllllllllllllll…..” he slurred. “You should head down thata way to the century. It’s cheap!”

That was all we needed to hear. What sort of fools would discard the advice of an old drunkard sipping a blueberry martini? Obviously, our course had been set.

The century theater was a step down from the O’ Ferrell theater. The façade on the outside was scuffed and dirty, the inside hallway was dark.
However, once we got all the way to the main dance area, we realized this was just what we wanted.

Pure, unbridled sleaze. Hurrah!

From the slightly depressed girls gyrating on the stage, to the porn films playing on the TV screens, it was guaranteed to terrify the poor groom-to-be into faithful monogamy.
Giddy as schoolgirls at their first gang bang, we virtually skipped to the V.I.P section and awaited the cascade of dance offers.

We didn’t have to wait long.

The first wave attacked us before we even had a chance to fully seat ourselves.
The groom was whisked off into the dark abyss, not to return for almost 20 minutes.
I was approached by a three-drinks-and-she-might-be-almost-attractive blonde and her homely friend. They both decided that the guy I was sitting next to would be a proper victim, and asked him for a dance.

He turned them down.

Calculating quickly, they decided to sweeten the deal.

“If you get a dance with one of us, we can do a double with HER” they declared, pointing at me.

“Wouldn’t you like to see her getting a dance, while you get one?”

“Why yes! YES HE WOULD.” I stated.

Damn it. I was intent on getting a lap dance. If I had to drag an innocent man into the jaws of death so I could achieve my goal, then so be it.
I and my poor, startled male compatriot were instantly hustled into the back room, and asked to pay.
Now, these “ladies” were crafty. They stood between us so we couldn’t see each other, but they could see the money exchange.

The sign at the entrance said lap dances were $20 each.

My poor fellow victim gave his dancer $40, to pay for both him and me.

I didn’t see him do this, but my dancer did.

Never the less, she then turned to me and said “a dance is $30”.
I paid, (not knowing she was blatantly ripping me off) but thinking “oh well, let’s see if this dance is worth it”.

It wasn’t.

to be continued…