Amateur Night at the Bubblegum Kittikat by Victoria Fedden

Author:Victoria Fedden [Fedden, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Ellalelope Press
Published: 2013-06-09T04:00:00+00:00

35

I stopped by the club on the way home from the airport. I’d seen the spotlights sabering up into the sky from the plane; the Bubblegum Kittikat’s contribution to the light pollution that made it nearly impossible to see a star on a clear night from anywhere in Fort Lauderdale. I guess in South Florida our stars are all fallen anyway. Ten pm on a Sunday was quiet and most of the employees were milling around trying to watch a football game on the TVs by the service bar. Luz made me a grasshopper. I’d tried to refuse and asked for a Shirley Temple but she’d insisted, saying I looked like I needed a drink. Maybe I did. Coming through to scatter the bouncers, waitresses and barbacks away from the game and back to work, Brent noticed me.

“What the heck are you doing here, stranger?” he laughed, “You’re not due back ’til Amateur Night. You’ve got two more days left.”

“Couldn’t stay away I guess.”

“This place’ll do it to you. Trust me. I know. How was the ATL?” he asked.

I shrugged, “You know. Things change.”

“Good timing you’re here though. Just a heads up. I’ve got a new girl training with you Tuesday night on the door so don’t get your panties all in bunch when you come in and she’s at the register. I asked her to come in early and then she’ll shadow you for the night.”

“Ok, no big deal,” I said, “But what happened? I leave for a week and you replace me already?”

“Never!”

“You better not. So what’s the new girl’s story?”

“I don’t know. Just moved here for a guy or something. She’s hot. Used to be in the Coast Guard.”

“What’s her name?” I wanted to know, but before Brent could answer a fight broke out between two patrons at the main bar. It was over Destiny.

Destiny’s regular came in half-lit and sunburned. Dom had spent the afternoon at Shooters, a cheesy tourist trap on the Intracoastal with cheap drinks, outdoor seating and bad bar food. The place had a nice view and on Sunday afternoons, when all the strip clubs were closed (no weekend day shift, sorry guys), Shooters was the place to be for its late afternoon Hot Bod contest. A take on the classic wet tee shirt contest from days of Spring Break past, the Hot Bod attracted every skinny, slutty gold digger and aspiring lingerie model from Palm Beach to South Dade to compete. Like they did on Amateur Night, these girls, clad in string bikinis, would jiggle and jerk, booty shaking their way towards the prize money while a raucously bawdy crowd of inebriated football fans went wild, barking and howling like caged dogs at the ASPCA, at whatever whore with saline knockers and a twenty-two inch waist could mime the best blowjob on a Corona bottle.

You could generally count on a Sunday night brawl because our customers would stumble in straight from the Hot Bod contest already past the legal limit and jacked

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.