For Gentlemen Only

It is not unusual to see more than 200 cars in the Chaise parking lot on a Friday night. Also, it’s not unusual to see a couple of the Chaise girls having a nightcap at the Stagger, a sordid bar one step above a dive about half a mile down the road from the Chaise. Nor is it unusual to find automobiles of all classes at the Easy 8 Motel directly across the street from the Stagger that rented rooms by the hour. But it was unusual to see a pristine 1965 Ford Mustang pulling into the Chaise parking lot. Not that the car was so unusual, it was its driver, Johnny Bradford. Johnny found an open spot at the far end of the parking lot which possessed the only street lights in that industrial neighborhood. This was primarily for the girls’ protection. Discretion wasn’t really a consideration, nor was it a problem. The Chaise referred to itself as a gentlemen’s club, as if that would cover that fact that it was nothing more than a strip joint. Although the Chaise catered to the respectful businessman who could be seen wearing coat and tie while sipping on a Bombay Sapphire martini, there were also men of other class distinctions. This include the beer drinking, unshaven, crude language, dirty jeans and T-shirt men. The inside walls were garnished with imitation art of nudes. Micro-fiber couches, booths and chairs complemented the comfort and style of even the most discerning tastes. There was even valet parking for the more than 200 gentlemen who needed an atmosphere of discretion and relaxation. All of this for the small cover charge of $20.00. There were big screens televisions with sporting events mounted over the bar. On one of the walls adjacent to the stage, there were projected silhouettes of unrecognizable naked women dancing. This provided an addition appetite wetting for the patrons. Everything was above-board at the Chaise. Soliciting was not allowed, and some customers were actually removed from time to time for making such inquiries. There was talk that occasionally one of the Chaise girls might meet up with a patron at another location for a drink or two and go off together, though Chase management denied that sort of activity ever occurred. Girls who worked at the Chaise could make anywhere from a couple hundred to a thousand dollars a night. It was all about playing the right mark. There were regulars who had their special girls and thought nothing of dropping a couple hundred or more to be made to feel as if they were something special for 30 minutes to an hour. Gentlemen could get a lap dance at their seat for $20.00. There were also private booths behind the couch area adjacent to the stage for $30.00 a dance. The Chaise also offered private rooms, affectionately referred to as the “naughty rooms,” starting at $300.00 for 30 minutes, complete with a bottle of wine. There was also 15 minutes for $150.00 for those of lesser financial means. For those of much more discriminating taste, there was an hour in a private room, complete with a chilled bottle of Dom Pérignon and Beluga caviar. All for the very competitive price of $1500. As long as men have money and are willing to pay, they can enjoy their fantasies and the Chaise will continue to flourish. Access to the Chaise was monitored by a proud sentinel. He was a rather large man whose polo shirt sleeves hugged his barbed wired tattooed biceps as he folded his arms across his chest. The girls all referred to him as Sweets. He was not just the bouncer, he was also part owner and he loved being the enforcer when the situation called for such action. As Johnny walked through the entrance, a deep voice told him to put out his arms. Sweets’ bulky calloused hands patted Johnny down. A sudden sense of guilt came to him during this ritual. This was the sort of procedure he thought to be reserved for the criminal element of society, not upstanding citizens such as himself. Johnny reconciled his conscience with the fact that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, at least that was the justification that Ron argued. With his mind at ease, he handed the frisking monolith the pass Ron had given him and passed through the velvet portals leaving reality behind and unlocking the door to fantasy. Johnny’s pupils immediately dilated upon passing through the velvet curtains. He was in total darkness, or so it seemed. For a moment he thought he was blind. Within a few seconds he silently rejoiced as his eyesight was restored. He could now make out the stage with the spot lights rotating colors to the music. Johnny continued to search in vain through the crowded booths and tables for his friends. Johnny’s eyes were not alone in the disarray. His ears were victims as well. The only sound emanating was the booming bass of the DJ’s sound system setting the appropriate atmosphere for the dancers to entice their gentleman guests. If there truly was music being played, Johnny thought it undiscernible. Besides the decibel level, it was music that Johnny wasn’t the least bit familiar with or moved by. Johnny awkwardly made his way through the crowd trying not to accidentally bump a waitress who might be carrying a full tray of long necks. The club floor was overflowing with seductively dressed girls ranging in ages from 19 to 40. It was a difficult challenge to divert his attention away from them and remain focused on the problem at hand: finding a seat. He stopped before reaching the stage. He thought he heard his name being called but wasn’t sure due to the thundering sound that engulfed him. He turned to the left and saw Cord, Joe and Ron waving their arms. Joe hollered to Johnny in an unfamiliar vernacular. Johnny was not accustomed to hearing the men he worked with swear or curse since their business environment was professional and Johnny did little socializing with them outside of work. He was seeing a side of his co-workers he had never seen before and it made him uneasy. He thought it interesting that these men could change as though they had stepped through a portal to another universe that reconfigured their personalities. A portal that he himself had walked through which opened the door to his own future change. Johnny made his way through the patrons and stretched out his hand to Ron who pulled Johnny into the booth and hollered, “The place is pretty packed. I’m surprised you found a place to park! What are you drinking? Good grief man, what are you doing with your coat on? It’s still eighty degrees outside!” “I’ll have a beer. You know this is how I dress. Besides, I think it might cool down later. Anyway, I came here to relax, but with all this noise and so many people, I don’t know if I can. I had no idea this place was so huge!” “Don’t worry about it,” said Ron. “You will get used to it. Sit back, enjoy a cold one and let your eyes partake of paradise. At least my view of paradise!” Ron chuckled. Joe motioned to one of the waitresses and slurred out what sounded like, “Bring this man a beer. He is thirsty! And he is a hero!” The waitress nodded and went back to the bar.