ReRun: Floor Show

==originally published 8/27/11 ==

It's three thirty in the morning, which has become mid-afternoon for me these days, and I'm doing it again.  People watching, that is.  It costs more now than it used to back when a cup of coffee was just a quarter, now it's two bucks.  But I'm not complaining about inflation, that's about the furthest thing from my mind.  No, I'm not really complaining at all, just sort of chuckling at myself for returning to resample, or maybe it's relive, the kind of roots that really don't have a garden to call their own.



She was hot, in that way a woman who isn't horny at all can be when she wants to play the game just for bragging rights, and she had a fine audience to play for: three college boys hanging ten toes over the edge of manhood in with a group of mixed couples, and in another booth two lasses, one a bit drunker than she'd intended to be (giving herself covert permission to let it all hang out for tonight, by tomorrow a bit red faced to remember what she did), and her much closer to sober friend who soon enough was clearly worried about managing the situation to a safe and sane ending.  And me of course, the resident martian geezer who'd been sitting adjacent to their region well before they made it in from the bar.

Now the lass who was a bit looser than she'd intended, let's call her Lucy just for convenience, was a bit plumper than the other players and she had her cap set for one of the three gents. By the time I picked up full on the situation she'd almost convinced her friend, let's call her Minerva (just because she exactly matched Heinleins description of the lady who at one time had been Lazarus Long's ships computer before she chose to incarnate into human form), that it wouldn't be so very bad to take up company with another of the set.  It took them a bit but soon enough they'd agreed that what the hell, at three thirty in the morning it was worth a try.  So Lucy, very full of dutch courage, opened the campaign to pry their favored picks away from the group in question.

It started out softly, the mating call of sorority sisters everywhere, perfectly pitched to carry just far enough to reach the intended target but not much further: "I'm so drunk..."   Lucy delivered it perfectly, complete with a little giggle and wiggle, hit her target perfectly and the game was full on.  In a few minutes it was loud, and bawdy, and yup, just as intended the couples finished their meal and left for wherever leaving the three lads firmly in play. 

Now the hot lass, let's call her Ariel, was in the company of two other girls who were totally ignoring the whole exchange as was she, as well they might, to my read they were dancers from the one and only titty bar in town just off work and catching breakfast on their way home to bed.  It wasn't until the prime target began using the word "love" like a cudgel on Lucy that the situation went from common to interesting.

At that point two faces changed: Minerva suddenly aghast that her friend seemed to be responding to the blatant bs, and Ariel who for just a moment showed a flash of genuine anger (I think she may have known him from her club).  When he'd swung the word four or five times, each time driving Lucy to show her desperation a bit more clearly Ariel had had enough and went full active.  Yea, full active, like strike wing of Tornado with orders to clear the field so the real infighting could proceed.  Ariel was pissed, but of course I was the only one who saw that, it only lasted a moment.

Letting her wrap that I'd taken for a loose fit summer dress fall to the booth where she'd been sitting she stood up: all five foot ten of her (well, five seven and three inch dancer's heels, two miles of sculpted leg muscle ending in a pair of denim hot pants I'll bet she got into with the help of some baby powder and a tiny little tie-top that was legal but didn't do anything at all for modesty, in fact it was rather the opposite) aimed her rump at the cad like a rifle and fired off three rounds of a dancer's flex (the one that emulates what happens to a woman's back and bottom and legs when she just got hers and isn't really sure if she wants to try and stand up just yet).  She didn't quite break his neck yanking his head around, but she came close.  Lucy saw him for what he was and blushed, Minerva heaved a sigh of relief, and I bit my tongue to keep from laughing right out loud.

But like I said, Ariel was pissed.  She had it in her head to do more than just save Lucy from a bad fuck, she was out for justice.  One of Ariels companions, who hadn't looked drunk at all when she walked in, was suddenly falling over in her seat, giving Ariel and the third girl perfect cover to do half their routine while getting her out and up and headed for the door.  Funny, how they turned the corner out of the cad's sight she was instantly steady on her feet at the register paying them out.  With the innocents secured Ariel went to work on the cad in earnest, playing not to him nor even to the secondary target Lucy had intended for Minerva, but for the third of the boys who all this while had been sitting quietly sipping his coffee and letting the beer bubble out his ears as the sobriety climbed back into his eyes.  It didn't take her long, maybe forty five seconds, but then again when a pro takes on a rank amature like the cad it usually doesn't.  He was totally suffering before she was done.

She caught the quiet one's eye on the way back to the booth to claim her wrap and purse, gave him a smile and a show just for him that by rights should have been worth at least a ten tucked into the waistband of her hotpants, everything to warm his blood, but not beyond dignity, everything to warm his hopes but not to the point of cruelty, everything to say to him "you're my kind of man sweetheart, you just might be worth my time if you were sober."   Reversing course on her way to the door she acknowledged his confused amazement that she'd intended all of that for him with a warm smile, then having pitched a wink to the waitress and I looked the cad in the eye and snickered  as her nose climbed into the air.  She'd worked a full shift, but she still had plenty left... she strutted out of the joint with every eye in the house on the rolling sine wave of her backside.  I'll not be a hypocrite here, it was well worth watching her leave.

Like I said in the beginning, she was hot.  And more than just hot, what she did is proof all the goodness isn't gone from the world, not yet.  So even if the twenty five cent circus now costs two bucks it's still the best floor show going.  I'm gonna have to be careful and not let it become to much of a habit.