crickets.

it all started innocent enough. if you've been in this area...i'm sure curiosity got the better of you. don't lie to yourself...you've been there. i'm talkin' about "good time charlie's" on the outskirts of beautiful soldotna, alaska. we'd heard rumblings about its awesomeness and lack of a dental plan for its employees, but hey...we all have our weaknesses.
here's how it went down...
it was a wednesday night. granted probably not the preferred shift of the first team, but still. after stuffing down some taco bell in the lot next to a dusty limousine with a for sale sign in the dash, we walked in.
i'm pretty sure the music scratched to a stop. i think we heard crickets but i'm not sure since i was a little afraid, and, not to mention, it might be too cold here in alaska for crickets, but anyway.
during the week amit was here, we had been getting fairly accustom to this type of reaction walking in to any kind of local saloon. it was either because i usually was wearing flip flops or because amit had "jihad" written on his forehead. whatever.
amit ordered a couple ambers from the bar. i went to the restroom. pissed in the brown water toilet and then picked one of the three rusty sinks (one for each of the last three decades?) and washed my hands in the same said brown water.
we found a booth, which consisted of a card table and two of those plastic stackable lawn chairs they sell at fred meyer 4 for twenty bucks. the beer was cold, and we were happy to hear that no matter the health code violations the required over-the-top voiced dj still could get a job.
i think her name was sandy. she was voluptuous. and her outfit was sparkly. she had about ten older men at the stage. there were three or four other dancers sitting at a few other card tables. none should be working there.
sandy was dancing, lip syncing to something by britney spears or slayer, i'm not sure. the older men were into her. smiling. throwing dollar bills. she had her top off doing the things i've heard strippers do when they dance.
then...she leaned into one of the men, took not her breasts, but her belly, her gut...squeezed it together and made a second giant vagina and gave it to the man.
amit and i watched like seeing an withered old man naked in a YMCA locker room or a bloody car wreck on the side of the highway. we couldn't look away.
it was over quickly.
we each finished our beers on the next swig.
got up, walked out, started the car, and didn't say a word to each other the entire way home.

on a side note, if that limo is still for sale out front next year when i come back...i'm buying it. strip out those seats, throw on some mudders...that baby would be a sweet fish wagon.