“What’s this?” the man inquired, “I thought we were going to a bedroom.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said as I pushed him into the booth. “You’re going to love it. This is a lot kinkier.”
“That’s right,” Sefra injected, “bedrooms are boring.”
The ugly man agreed. “By the way,” he said, “what did you girls do with my wife?”
I told him that she was in the bathroom freshening up. Sefra laughed.
“What was that red sticky stuff all over your doll, honey?” Sefra asked.
“She got a little too spunky for her own good. So, I had to show her who’s boss. It’s just a little blood from my hand,” the man insisted.
Sefra and I winced. Suddenly Adam tried to shove his hand down the front of Sefra’s bra. Sefra grabbed the man’s hand and pulled it away from her body. “We’ll get to that later. First we want you to tell us your deepest and darkest fantasies,” she crooned.
The man smirked. “You don’t even want to know what my fantasies are.”
Sefra pinched my arm. He continued to talk, “You two aren’t going to believe this, but I’m a fifty-one year old virgin. That’s why I came in here; it’s time for me to have sex with a real woman.”
“Really,” I said, “you’re so handsome I find that hard to believe.” Sefra and I laughed.
“What’s so funny?” the man asked.
“Nothing really,” I said, “I think my sexy roommate and I have had a little too much to drink.”
The stupid man believed me. The truth of the matter was that I didn’t drink, and Sefra was blown away on heroin. “I have a good idea,” Sefra said, “Why don’t we get your wife out of the bathroom and you can show us how you make love to her.”
“That’s not what I paid for,” the man protested. “We know that honey,” I said in an attempt to pacify him, “but it would really turn us on.”
“O.K., I’ll do it, but I just want you ladies to know that I’m through spending money tonight. I’ve reached my limit on my credit card,”
he insisted. In most cases, Sefra and I were usually able to coerce the men into spending more money on us in spite of their reservations. However, in this particular instance, we didn’t even try. I had a feeling that once he discovered that he wasn’t going to get anything for his money, he could become a problem. It was a gamble that wasn’t worth taking. Besides, there was a room full of other lucrative opportunities waiting for us.
Sefra and I spent another ten minutes with the man before we told him that his time with us was up. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t appear to be upset when we told him that the party was over. As a matter of fact, he thanked us for the “good time.” He remained in the club for several minutes after Sefra and I parted company with him, then the man quietly left. Later on in the evening, Sefra decided to run out to a twenty-four hour grocery store to buy some cigarettes. When she returned from her errand, she mentioned to me that she had seen a man lurking around the parking lot of the club. Sefra claimed that she couldn’t tell what the man looked like because it was too dark outside.
After work that night, Sefra and I decided to go out to breakfast together at a local after-hour restaurant. We left Sefra’s eleven-year-old car sitting in the parking lot of the club and took mine instead. A couple of hours later, I dropped Sefra back off at her car and proceeded to go home. By 6:00 in the morning, I was in bed and fast asleep. I was awakened by the sound of my doorbell at approximately 7:00 a.m. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have answered it, but I knew that my roommate had gone out for the evening and it was quite possible that she had locked herself out. I got out of bed and answered the door. I was surprised when I discovered that it was Sefra standing on my doorstep instead of my roommate.
“You’re not going to believe what just happened to me,” Sefra said breathlessly,
“that creep that we had last night that brought in that blow up doll was hiding in the trunk of my car, and came through the back seat while I was driving.” It took me a few minutes to absorb what she had just said. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I replied. Sefra proceeded to tell me the story. After I had dropped her off that morning at her car, she pulled out onto the dark stretch of highway that ran directly in front of the club. About ten minutes later, she heard a strange noise. It seemed to be coming from the backseat of her car. Sefra ignored the noise and continued to drive. Suddenly, she heard a loud clamor and the sound of a man’s voice. Before she knew it, she had been grabbed by the throat and had a gun pointed at the back of her head. The man instructed Sefra to pull over, but she refused to. She knew that if she did what the man said, he would have killed her.
Sefra was a very street-smart woman who had worked in strip clubs for over twenty-four years, so she knew how to handle unsavory characters. It was this knowledge that ultimately saved her life. Somehow she was able con the man to getting out of her car by promising to give him a bag of heroin that she had stashed in her glove compartment. She left her attacker on the side of a dark rural highway holding the bag of drugs. Sefra chose not to report the incident to the police, because she had been busted on drug charges in the past. The incident was soon forgotten and the customer was never seen in the club again.
A few years of my life had flown by. Although I owned my own home and had successfully completed two Associates degrees and a Bachelor in Human Services, I still felt chronically depressed and restless. A concerned friend of mine suggested that I have my physician prescribe an antidepressant for me to try. I didn’t particularly relish the idea of having to resort to taking psychotropic medication for relief, but I realized that I had to do something about my problem. I took my friends advice, and contacted a mental health clinic. I made an appointment to see a psychiatrist, and was immediately issued a prescription for Prozac. Four weeks later, I was feeling better and was able to function again.
Determined to make as much money as possible while we still could, Sefra and I relentlessly searched for another big spender. Our search led us to a mysterious individual by the name of Ken. He was just another customer, another mope, and another wallet. Ken was Sefra’s find, not mine. I will give credit where credit is due. Sefra was good at roping the guys in, because she came across as being unassuming. However, she wasn’t able to extract large amounts of money from the guys as easily as I could. Sefra couldn’t close the sale. This particular customer had a lot of money on him. Sefra had two choices. She could have kept him to herself, and spent more time with him. If she did that, she would make considerably less money. Her second choice would be to call me into the party and make a lot more money in less than half the time. Sefra was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. She brought me over to meet the man, and introduced me as her sexy roommate. My first impression of this person wasn’t a particularly good one. In fact, I got very bad vibes from him, but I ignored the unsettling feeling and proceeded to get on with the scam. Sefra wasn’t always the best judge of character, especially when she became desperate for money. Nevertheless, I threw caution to the wind. Ken was ready and willing to spend a lot of money on Sefra and me. In less than an hour, he had already spent close to $5,000 on us.
Ken was probably somewhere in his early to mid-forties and stood about 5 feet 10 inches. He was on the stocky side and had a build like a Marine Sergeant. He appeared to be very nervous. His large dark eyes continually darted around the interior of the club. It was almost as if he was expecting to see someone or something that he was trying to avoid. The man was a weirdo. There was no doubt about it, but as long as he was willing to spend the money, Sefra and I were willing to stay. The strange man ended up spending a couple of hours with us. During this time, we pretended to be mesmerized by his absurd stories. Ken claimed that he worked for a top-secret government agency that required him to travel outside the country on a moments notice. He also claimed that he lived with his aged father in Orland Park, Illinois. Ken expressed a profound interest in guns and boasted that he had quite an impressive gun arsenal at his home. Around 2:30 in the morning, he informed us that he had to get home, because he was anticipating an important phone call from a government co-worker. Sefra and I were relieved to learn that he was leaving. By now, we were both burned out on his crazy conversation. Immediately after Ken’s departure, we went into the lady’s room to count all the tips that he had given us behind the waitresses back. We counted close to $4,000 between the two of us.