It’s Flash Fiction Friday time! Click over to Advizor54’s hot blog to see what he and a gaggle of other bloggers wrote about this photo given these guidelines:
- Required Phrase –advertisement and/or flyer
- Word length – 320 (3 songs for $20)
- Forbidden words -Stripper, bastard, appetizer
- Bonus Points – reflect the viewpoint of both women
- Extra Credit words – Tell us worst experience with a stripper or at a strip club (50 words) and/or, your best (25 words)
=====================
A rainy Friday afternoon. I didn’t want to go home. I knew what would be happening. My husband will be in his daughter’s room… staring out the window, tear tracks down his face. It might be worse – it was five years ago today. The anniversaries were rough. I begged him to go to the lake, but he wouldn’t. He said all he’d do was cry, remembering the sunny afternoons before she disappeared… a waste of gas money. And what if she came home while they were gone?
When I pulled into the garage, there were amazing smells. He was busy in the kitchen, with pots on the stove and a chocolate cake in the oven! He ran over to kiss me as I stood dumbfounded in the doorway. I wrapped my arms around him and reveled in the physical contact we hadn’t exchanged in years. I squeezed his ass as he sucked on my tongue, rubbing back and forth over his hardening cock… I remember exactly how to set him off! I didn’t speak… didn’t want to break the spell. He finally let me breathe and pointed to the table.
“Bodacious Babes Tour! One night only!” caught my eye. What the….? There was a badly copied purple flyer and a grainy photo, but I could see right away why he was excited. It was definitely our daughter, the tallest of three women posed seductively around a stripper’s pole. Longer hair and a thinner face, but her, no question! A bunch of emotions poured through me – surprise, anger, relief, confusion and excitement! I had so many questions and hope for the first time in five years of getting answers!
“Bring her home,” I requested.
“No way… you’re coming with me!” he replied.
“I can’t go in there!” I protested.
“We’ll go,” he insisted. “We’ve been through every moment of this nightmare together – that’s how it’s going to end!”
===================
“You used to live here?” Savannah asked as we took the exit for the club. She stared out the window at the huge homes and manicured lawns we passed before crossing over to the seedier side of town.
“Yeah… back there,” I pointed, “about half a mile down the boulevard with all the trees.” Savannah whistled in response, awed at the fancy surroundings.
“You’re not worried about running into them?” she asked.
“Not a chance,” I replied. “They never go to this side of the tracks.” I mused on the prospect of my dad in a strip club and chuckled. It was too ridiculous to imagine! He was a big old teddy bear, always smiling with hard candies in his coat pocket for a little girl to reach in and… maybe she should call? Nah…
“Hey! Watch where you’re driving! You almost ran down that delivery man!” Savannah nudged me.
“Why did you leave? Someone molesting you?” Savannah asked. A lot of our compatriots had escaped just such a situation.
“Nah… I dunno,” I cut her off. There has been many reasons… or none. I couldn’t remember now what set me off that day five years ago. I was a stupid teenager with nutty ideas about how fun it would be to leave home. Funny that the boss had picked this weekend to send us here.
I pulled in behind the club and we dragged our duffels in through the back door to the tiny dressing room. Sappho was already there – she gets to ride with the boss. I started on my stage make-up. I was dressed and ready when Savannah came rushing in.
“Scarlett! There a woman in the audience!” she announced. “With a big bear of a guy.” I wondered if we had another pair of lost tourists in the wrong place again. Then another thought occurred to me and I ducked out for a peek.
=================
Extra Credit – I’ve never been to a strip club. Years ago there was a gorgeous young accounting temp at my very stuffy office. He appeared every day in a dark gray three-piece pinstriped suit. After a while, he admitted he was an “exotic dancer” weekends at the local strip club! My secretary and I thought he was kidding. He brought in a VHS tape as proof! We watched it in a conference room. It was ridiculous to see our buttoned-down co-worker shimmying and stripping… we laughed! He was offended we weren’t turned on, but glad we were good-natured about it.
