Honeymoon Rebound by Eddie Cleveland

Author:Eddie Cleveland [Cleveland, Eddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-05T18:00:00+00:00

18

Finn

“Five minute warning!” Alani bellows into our hut. It might look like a traditional Hawaiian house from old times on the outside, but in here it’s a circus of men getting ready for the show. I secure my malo, a traditional skirt for men, around my waist and grab some eyeliner, quickly dragging pitch-black lines around my eyes. Normally, I’m not a “maybe he’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline” kind of guy, but this is show biz. And I’m in the business of putting on a fucking good show.

A couple guys are doing some push-ups to get pumped before we head out. I jump up and down, slapping my arms and chest, I’m ready for whatever tonight brings. The thing is, you never know what’s waiting out there for you. Some nights, when we dance for the luau, it’s packed to the brim with international tourists who record every second of the show. They ooh and ahh over every jump, every chant, every time we swing our torches, taming the wild flames into soft circles in the night.

Other nights the chairs are full of drunk sailors who often come into port here and decide to blow off some steam at our show. They’re usually pretty rowdy, but harmless. They call out to the girls, saying things like, “Hey, if you put those flowers around my neck, did I get lei’d? Heh, heh.”

Like I said, harmless.

The audience who has the most fun are the older ladies who show up on cruise ships. They usually start out innocent enough, but a few drinks in they let their inner cougars roam free. I’ve never been a stripper, but I’m pretty sure I know what they feel like. I’ve had ladies who were old enough to be my nana trying to slip bills into my waistband or sneak a peek under my skirt. Now that I think of it, it’s almost always the ones who are my grandmother’s age who get the craziest.

The same music that always introduces us blasts out in the night and we scurry out of the hut in a line. The ladies in the show gather in front of us, walking out from their own changing room hut on the other side. We stand like statues behind them as they sway the soft curves of their hips, sending their grass skirts flicking all around. A couple of dudes in the back of the audience whistle loudly, but the girls ignore them.

It’s hard to see too many rows back, with the lights aimed at us, it’s only the first row of chairs you can really make out. My gaze travels the faces and stops on someone I did not expect to see. Sitting in the front row with an empty seat beside her is Joss. I don’t think she’s seen me yet. To her, I’m probably hard to pick out. All of us guys are around the same height and carry the same bulk. Many of us have long hair. There are only two of us also sporting beards though.

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