Extract:
You take straight to the stage and begin to gyrate around to the music. I lose count of how many man and women push notes into your g string. You have clearly made a lot of money tonight. Your strip may be amateurish but it's what the audience want and I can see them queuing up for a lap dance. As you are led off the back rooms by a sweaty middle-aged fat man, I excuse myself for a while and go for dinner at an Italian restaurant over the road.
The meal is delicious and I take my time, flirting with the waitresses. There are two English-Italian girls in their early twenties who seem to spend far more time at my table than was strictly necessary. Perhaps they are drawn by my sexuality possibly, you were! Likely they are more interested in my potential to tip. Either way, I push my business card under a fifty pound note when I leave.
It is almost midnight when I return to the club and there is no sign of you in the main stage area. Catching my eye as I walk in, Candy was clearly waiting for me and seems excited.
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