Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Old School Writings

I have nothing on my mind, so it's time for some Old School Writings. This is a story I wrote back in 2005. I know my readers have short attention spans, so I'll do the first part today, and then I'll put up the second part later this week. I am not making editorial changes to these, even though I probably should so the writing may have some rough spots. This story is entitled Booyah.

Pete had waited for this day for a long time, and even though he had drank heavily before the big moment, he knew that no amount of alcohol in the world could make him forget this experience. He had heard all the stories, and couldn’t wait to finally encounter it first-hand. As his buddy Steve strolled into the parking lot, Pete could hear the beats of rap music nearly shaking the ground around him. He was overwhelmed with happiness as he got out of the car and walked towards the door with Steve and his other friend James. He was so close to everything that they had talked about, the sounds of the music he could already hear, the smells that were so beautiful they could make an angel quiver, the sights that he had spent many lonely nights contemplating and just thinking of the way it felt was almost more than he could bare. Here he was, he had finally made it to eighteen years old, and as excited as he was about being able to buy cans of Skoal on his own now, this experience was the epitome of what being eighteen years old was all about. As he walked towards the glass door, he saw the emblem and he knew that it was finally his time as it read: Booyah! A Gentleman’s Club. As Pete walked up to the bouncer and handed him his ID, he couldn’t help but peak in to see the three stages on three different levels to see three different naked women dancing around the three poles that glistened each stage. As the bouncer wished him a happy birthday and took his $20, giving him ten one-dollar bills in return, Pete could no longer hide his emotion. He grinned from ear to ear as he pushed the door open for this was the moment he believed he would journey into manhood.

Pete was the last one of his friends to turn eighteen. Pete had to stay at home as buddy after buddy became legal and went to Booyah, the biggest and best strip club in the area. He had heard stories of completely naked women dancing on guys for only one dollar. His friends had told him that there is no better smell than strippers. Pete could not imagine a girl smelling better than freshly cut grass in the summertime, but his friends assured him that the grass would never be able to compare to the smell of a stripper. He had heard of stories in Penthouse Forum about guys going to strip clubs and taking multiple strippers back for a night of wild orgies. Pete had total confidence in himself that he could be one of those guys. Nice people would refer to Pete as a dreamer, but people who knew him knew that he was far past being a dreamer and that he had managed to live his life with no real sense of reality. At school, Pete was a rather quiet kid, but out of school when alcohol was in his system, he became an absolute wild man. After drinking for hours at Steve’s house, he was more than ready to show his wild side.

Even though, it was on a Wednesday, he still found two of his best buddies willing to make the trip, including his best friend since grade school, Steve. Steve was the leader of the group, constantly pushing his friends to drink on nights they wanted to take it easy and always willing to take a chance. He played third base for the baseball team and wide receiver for the football team in high school. Most people didn’t think much of him when seeing him; he was 6’1”, but only around 160 pounds. He was a quick thinker so he had excellent wit and had the head to get him and his buddies out of bad situations.

As Pete walked in the door, he heard the song “Gimme The Light” by Sean Paul being blared on the speakers. His eyes lit up in the dark club as he saw the neon lights bouncing off each of the three stages as the beautiful, yet morally casual girls, each danced around their own six and a half foot pole. He tried to contain his emotions so he would not look desperate when he entered, but it was clear that hiding his joy would be a task he could not execute.

James followed them in, as he nervously looked around, first at the bouncers, and then at the girls. James was considered the dork of the group. He was 6’2” and weighed about a buck forty. Some people had more muscle in their jaw than he had in his entire body. His glasses were nearly as thick as coke bottles, and for most that would be their most embarrassing feature, but not for him. He was pale and his black hair was highlighted by the premature gray strands that protruded in every way. Nobody was real sure if the gray was caused by genetics or the stress caused by people constantly harassing him about anything they could. Despite being in things like drama club and show choir, he still hung out with the guys that were high on the social ladder. As much shit as he took throughout his days, he knew that if he got in any serious trouble, the guys that constantly pick on him would have his back. As they all walked in he said, “Hey guys, the line for the guys’ bathroom is so long, will one of you guys be the lookout so I can use the girls bathroom real quick?”

Steve said, “Yeah, I’ll look out for your queer ass so you don’t have to piss all over your K-Mart jeans.”

“Hey, these are American Eagle.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Pete said, “All right, while James lets his vagina drain, I am going to wait by the railing for him to get done.” As they walked away, Steve stayed by the bathroom to look our for James. A cute brunette with a denim jacket and breath that reeks of cheap vodka walks up to the bathroom and asks if she can use the bathroom.

Steve tells her, “Sorry, can’t use the bathroom.”

“Why not?” she asks.

Steve thinks as quick as he can and replies, “Well the toilet’s covered in shit. If you want to sit in that, go ahead, but I wouldn’t recommend even setting foot in there, it smells pretty awful.” After the girl quickly declines and ponders how she is going to deal with her situation, James walks out of the bathroom.

The girl yells, “HEY, what is a guy doing in the girls’ bathroom? There’s no shit in there at all.”

As James sees his opportunity to avoid this conflict before getting involved, he sneaks behind Steve to meet up with the other guys. Steve tells her, “Well that guy must have been the janitor, because that bathroom was filled with shit about ten minutes ago and if it’s clean now, that must have been his handy work.”

“That story is total bullshit, that guy was your friend.”

When Steve realizes that there is no way to keep this lie going, he asks the girl, “Do you really want to know the truth?”

“Yes, I would.”

“Well the truth is that’s my buddy James, and he’s a herm.”

“What? What’s a herm?”

“You know, a hermaphrodite, he’s got both tools down below.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why else he would he be in the girls’ bathroom?”

“Well, I don’t really know.”

It was then that Steve realized that this girl was even drunker than he first thought and realized that he was going to get away with this story. “But don’t say anything; he’s really embarrassed about it, for obvious reasons.”

“So why do guys like you hang out with a guy like that, you know that’s got both of those things down there.”

“Well, we usually don’t, but his family is really good friends with mine, so they made me take him along so he could hang out with some guys. He’s a nice guy, so I have no problems with him, and I figure the guy’s already had pretty shitty luck, since he kind of looks like a woman without anybody knowing that about him. But the guys I’m with don’t even know, so don’t say anything.”

“Wow, that’s really nice of you to be so nice to him.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, I’m a pretty good guy. My name’s Steve by the way.”

“I’m Samantha, but everybody calls me Sam.”

“So what is a girl like you doing at a strip club on a Wednesday night?”

“Actually, I have a friend who started working here tonight, and my friends and I decided that we had to support our girl.”

“Well, you should come down and hang out later if you want to have a good time. It’s my buddy’s birthday so things are going to get wild.”

“All right, we might head down that way.”

“Cool, hopefully I see you later.” And with that, Steve went to meet up with the rest of the guys who were still waiting by the railing overlooking the stages.

“Who was that girl you were talking to?” asked James.

“Just some broad desperate for the D,” Steve replied.

“She must be desperate if she’s talking to you.”

“Shit, when a girl sees a stud like me, she’s got to try as hard as she can. I’m quite the catch if you haven’t noticed.”

“Whatever fag, let’s go see some tits.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Pete chimed in.

Expect the exciting conclusion of this story tomorrow, but possibly Friday if I get caught up doing...something.


P.S. If you like the Chicago Bulls and the Ultimate Warrior, you will find this mildly entertaining:

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