Weird scenes inside the gold mine--The movie

...around the curve leaving Kearneysville, and saw a sign: "Exotic
Dancers...Nude".

^^Pan right to shot of a cheesy portable sign in front of a semi-broken
down strip mall^^

...her pussy was shaven, and she actually talked to me, a nobody geekoid

^^stock shot of blonde stripper...never seen again^^

It wasn't far, and I returned.

^^flash driving interior shot ::cue music::November Rain^^

And I returned. ^^flash driving interior shot "Mmm, baby, it's my
period.  Let me know if anything's showing."^^

And I returned.

^^flash driving interior shot ::cue music::Stranglehold^^

They remodeled.  So did I.  My hair grew, I lost a potbelly, bought a
tan. Other clubs—Fantasy, the Horseshoe.

^^shot down stairs into an extremely crowded club.  As customer walks up
stairs to the restroom, a newly augmented dancer leaps into his arms.
"Baby, I've missed you so much," she hisses, as her tongue works into
his ear and her hand reaches for his crotch.^^

...a tiger tattoo over her heart...

^^::cue music::Thunderstruck^^

and she disappeared.  But there were more:

^^shot of tall brunette busily grinding her postage stamp sized lycra
g-string on my nose, her juices running down my cheeks; shot of
augmented blonde lying back in front seat, grabbing her tits under the
mercury light, pulling my mouth harder against her clit^^

And another club...Sugarfoot's:

^^shot down stairs, and inside.  It is a small place with a stage on the
right, a bar in back, and what was once another bar dividing the room.^^

I saw her tattoo again, and again.  One night, she appeared as
platinum—cuffs, collar, eyebrows.  It was the night of tequila and
blood.

^^shot of dancer on lap, customer and dancer w/ shot glasses in
hand...they lick salt off of one another, shoot the booze, push the
limes into each other's mouths with their tongues.  As she bites, he
stabs his tongue into her mouth. As the blood surges from his mouth, so
does the semen from his cock.^^

But it ended, and I think we both got what we deserved.  She was fired
and I still returned to the Foot.  On my birthday.

^^Earlier shot at the Huddle:"Open your mouth and close your eyes.  Ok,
you're dosed" ::cue Amboy Dukes:: Journey to the Center of the Mind^^

Cars loomed ever larger on my drive.  Like cats with headlights for
eyes.  I entered the club.  A wonderful slut set with me.

^^shot of another dancer straddling right leg, sitting on customer's
hand.  He rubs her, feeling her wetness soak first his fingers, then his
palm.  She works his groin—first with her knee, then her hand.  Her
fingers find his zipper. "You've got to get it out...I have to have it
in me *now*."  His cock springs forth, and her wet mouth moves
down—licking, sucking, swallowing.  "Dammit, fuck me now," she cries.
He looks over the back bar, and sees the DJ watching.  "No. Just swallow
what you’ve got.  I need to go home."  Six months later, he reciprocates
her favor in the front seat of her Cherokee in a Denny's parking lot.^^

Dancers migrate..  Old friends leave. New ones appear.  Her name is
Floe.

^^shot of the Huddle/fast cuts of dancers’
faces-tits-legs-pussies-faces-asses-faces.  STOP and HOLD on freckled
blonde. Then slow resume^^

Two dancer friends and I drive to Florida, and do Disney for a week.
Floe’s disappeared from the Huddle.  I find her about a month later at
the Golden Horseshoe.

^^shot of cavernous brick-front Butler building, with bi-level stage.
Old friend dancers...and Floe on stage.^^

It is the height of ASSC...sex, philosophy, and flameage in a heady
proportion. In the midst of this, I answer a challenge to come to San
Francisco.

^^cut to shot of Chez Paree interior and the flash of faces begins:
Bubba, ALS, DougLee, Laar, IRL, Vi$$i, Fingers, Dave's Friend, CPOne.  A
hug of welcome. Dinner with soya.  Walking with a vampire prince, and
seeing his violation with something very large and very black.  Edie.
And a ride in what will pass as a Batmobile.^^

CPOne and Ginger arrive in Baltimore by limo.  Floe and I tour with
them.

^^shot inside the Wagon Wheel—see several Franklins walk out the door
when management won't let dancers lap our ladies^^

By November, we're married.  But her days of idyl come crashing to an
end in a searing bout of dancer politics.  We search for other clubs.
But dancing  isn’t what it was.  Floe retires to social work.

^^fast cut DC clubs//end with Mitzi's...shots of moving households,
etc.^^

A NEW JOB.  In St. Louis.  One quick tour of the old clubs in WV... but
it's not the same.  It's definitely time to move on...

An email from CMG : "Meet me at Dollie's.  I'll show you around East St.
Louis." And over the next month I discover that, up until that time, I
had been playing in the minor leagues.

It wasn't far, and I returned.

^^shot of people squirming on couches in lap lounge, sixty nine abounds.
Dancer climbs down from stage into lap, her hand snakes up a customer's
shorts.  "Oh, get him hard for me."^^

And I returned.

^^shot of a dark corner, a dancer riding one man's lap reaches over to
another dancer, pinches her nipple, and then reaches down to unzip the
second dancer's customer's shorts.  She puts her hand behind the second
dancer's head, and pushes her down to the man’s turgid groin.  "Suck,"
she commands.  "Suck his cock."  The second dancer does—and is soon
rewarded with an outpouring of cream. The customer is rewarded with the
sight of them trading his essence in a kiss that goes on, and on, and
on...^^

And I returned.

^^shot of a giant parking lot, as the sun rises over an aging chemical
plant, a man stands talking to an obviously intoxicated Jamaican dancer,
then stalks away, disgusted with her, and to some degree, himself.^^

But it wasn’t the same.  Or, incredibly, I wasn't the same.  And so the
trips became more and more irregular, and I found that I was no longer a
citizen of this odd nation of madmen and women, but rather only a
greying visitor to the agora.

Looking back from the edge of the millenium, I wouldn't trade a minute
of it.

SteveDrD AFTSD IV 02December99