New readers refer back to “Dr. Frankenfurter and The Real Rocky Horror”
The nightlife strip club scene is very transient. A man may come and see you for a month straight and then all of a sudden disappear. He may have gone to another club and found a different girl, or found himself a girlfriend and does not feel the need to come to the club any more. Whatever the case may be, losing a regular in such an unpredictable, inconsistent money environment sucks. Needless to say when Doc’s wife found the Polaroid pictures of him dressed up in stilettos as a woman with a gag ball in his mouth his strip club and “special show” days were pretty much over for a while. Here’s the tea….
As I said before, Doc and I had a mutually beneficial friendship he would give me a set amount of money and I would bring friends, co workers, basically anyone who was open minded enough to watch a seemingly normal looking man parade around in a room with stilettos and lingerie on.
He was entertaining and my friends loved it. “When is the next Doc show?!” they would often ask me. I even had girls pulling me aside at work that wanted to go see what it was all about.
At the shows the girl’s would take pictures of him and he would always collect them after. He kept count of them, marking each photo with a sharpie. After all, he had a great job and did not want to be blackmailed. I always wondered what he did with the photos and how no one ever found anything. I assumed he kept all that stuff at his office under lock and key.
One day I got a phone call from Doc. He sounded upset. He asked me to meet him for dinner. I was just getting off at the club, so I told him I would meet him somewhere near by.
“The show is cancelled for Thursday.” he said. “Why?!” I said worried. He never canceled, in fact sometimes he would want to do two shows in one week if he was feeling motivated.
“My wife found the photos in the attic.”
I almost spit out my drink. “NOOOOOO!!” I screamed.
I did not even care about the money I was losing right away, but more so how embarrassing that must’ve been for him. I was trying to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t help but envision a woman looking through an attic, only to find a picture of her husband in a dress and stilettos. My mind starting playing back all the poses and photos we had taken of him in the past.
Well, he’s fucked… I thought to myself. I really don’t even know how one could explain something like that.
Half of me was trying not to laugh, and the other half was truly concerned. I asked if he was okay and he did not really say much. I could just tell that he was very ashamed and worried about what was to come for him regarding his marriage.
I gave him his space to do what he needed to do for himself. I stopped calling and texting for about a year. He was so upset. I did not want to make things worse for the guy.
It was a busy weekend night at a club near where I grew up called Crazy Rock. It was kind of a dive, but if I did not feel like driving to the city it was convenient for me. Crazy Rock was a no nudity establishment, so the girls had to wear pasties. For what it was the quality of girls was actually pretty good, so there was decent clientele. It was a nice change from the city clubs, but only for a night or two.
They used to do one thing that pissed me off though. They would make you pick a customer and slow dance with them. I used to complain constantly about it. It was the dumbest thing I ever had to do at a club. Why couldn’t we just sell shirts or hats like a normal strip club?
“WHY THE FUCK WOULD I SLOW DANCE WITH SOMEONE FOR FREE WHEN I CAN GIVE A LAP DANCE UPSTAIRS FOR MONEY. THIS CUTS 30 MINUTES OUT OF MY NIGHT. THAT’S POTENTIALLY A HUNDRED DOLLARS!” I screamed at the manager after she fined me for hiding in the bathroom during the junior high slow dance session portion of the night.
“Fuck this place!”I said as I walked out of the bathroom. I swung the door open to see a bunch of people slow dancing during prime money making hours on a Friday night.
Annoyed, I turned towards the bar looking for some partner less shmuck to dance with. The bar was packed, everyone had their backs to me waiting for a drink except one person.
IT WAS DOC!
I ran over to him literally shoving old men and their dancing partners out of my way. What great timing!
“I’VE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU!!” he said. I was so surprised to see him I gave him a big hug. (Those of you that know Kash know Kash is not a hugger…)
“It’s me, here I am!!” he said, as if he had changed into someone else over the course of the year. He looked the same and I was so happy to see him!
“I lost all my numbers I had to get rid of that phone,” he said.
We were talking at the bar when the same pain in the ass manager came up and tapped me on the shoulder to start slow dancing.
There were no rules in this club! No structure what so ever, but if you tried to skip out on that slow dance they were on your ass like flies on shit. I never understood it. I shooed her away and flipped her off as she turned her back to me.
I turned back towards Doc. “That’s my girl!” he said. He always encouraged my behavior. That’s probably why I liked him so much.
“What the hell are you doing in this shit hole barn?” he asked. “This is the last place I would have ever looked for you.,” he said. “It’s not so bad minus this weird slow dance shit.” I replied.
“Well, whataya say, kid… Can the show still go on?” he asked as that sadistic smile creeped back across his face. He flashed a new burner cell phone. Doc was back! #nowthatsthefuckingtea