Cruisin' (Part 3)

Part 3

I'll skip all of the details regarding lap dances, seeing as how I didn't have any part in receiving one. "So, what DID I do on that evening?" you may ask yourself. Well, for the most part I walked around the "gentlemen's club" and when the mood struck me, I wrote. Judging by the reaction of the barely-dressed bartender, this was not a common occurance at that establishment.

"What are you writing? Someone's phone number?" she asked.

"No, just general observations and ideas for stories." I responded.

"Check out those FUN BAGS!!!!!" some random guy next to me.

Personally, I don't think that any night that begins and ends with a great deal of alcohol consumption is going to go well, on the whole, and so this night was destined for a bad end.

When we last left Don, he was attempting to raise funds to get Tony, and the rest of the 9 of us, a pair of lesbians to put on a "private show" in the limo. I hadn't seen Don for a while while I was sitting at the bar writing, so I thought that the idea had fizzled and we were just going to do the smart thing and get in the limo and fall asleep on the way home.

We all left the club and started to make our way for the limo. There were a few stragglers left behind in the club, so the driver brought us up to the front door so we could pick them up and head on our way. I had just gotten settled into my spot in the limo when Don popped into the car and said, "I NEED $300 for the hoochies."

For the guys in the car the line between prostitution and paying for exhibitionism must have been pretty grey because most of them opened their wallets right away.

"What happened to $200?" a few of the guys asked.

"They'll do ANYTHING that we want them to for $300," Don shot back.

A little red light started to flash in my head at this point. Something about the word "hoochies" just didn't make me feel like this was a solid plan that was going to go off without a hitch. Honestly, have you ever met an honest and truthful group of hoochies? I didn't think so.

So, the guys all proceeded to hand over $20 bills to Don until he had enough money. Seeing that I was one of the only semi-sober people in the group, I decided not to hand over any of my money for this investment. That little red light in my head just wouldn't go away... and I thought it was wise to pay attention to that warning light.

After about 5 minutes, Don came back to the limo with the two women of the evening. The little red light started to get much brighter and um... redder.

The limo, which according to the driver, could seat 10 men comfortably. The 10 men, that the driver spoke of, must have been much from a race of pygmies, because it was a pretty cramped ride all the way up to the club. Now when you added the two "lesbians", it really got full in a hurry. Adjustments had to be made to allow them the room to join our merry crew. Sadly, most of the beer had to be moved to the trunk in order to create enough room for them.

As soon as the two women got into the car, I could tell that these were the "classy" lesbians that you hear about on TV.

"Where's my beer?" was the first question asked as they entered the car.

Here's a friendly suggestion from Glen. If you're ever around drinking with friends and two women who claim to be lesbians show up, duck if they ask for beer.

I swore someone was going to lose an eye as all of the guys grabbed at the few available beers left in the limo and then lunged them at the women. I would have to say that this was an expected reaction, as the guys in the car wanted these two "women" to be as uninhibited as possible and if alcohol helped, that was going to be encouraged.

Remember that red flashing light in my head?

"So, where are we headed?" Don asked one of the women.

"We're staying at the campground across the highway."

From a flashing red light to something roughly like a red strobe light. It was nearly blinding when I closed my eyes.

Since the limo driver was just following orders, he proceeded to head to the campgrounds and drive down a dirt road towards our destination. I have to say that when I decided to go out with Tony for his bachelor party, I never thought that we would end up sitting in the back of a limo, driving down a dirt road, being directed by two strange women that we just met/paid, to a location that was totally unknown to us.

One of the women noticed the fact that I was doing a great bit of writing, and wasn't oggling her like the other guys were.

"What does my ass say to you?" she asked.

"You're ass isn't really conveying much to me."

At this point, the limo had been driving down the dirt road for a few minutes. One of the guys next to me looked over my shoulder and asked me what I needed to keep writing down.

"Because, when the lawyers ask us for evidence about what happened, this is all we've got. Hell, if we have to call the cops to come out here, we're going to have to direct them here by constellation."

Apparently, the beer that the first "lesbian" was drinking went right through her.

"I need to go to the bathroom, can we pull over?" she stated.

"I can't see any bathrooms around here," the driver replied.

"The world is my urinal," was her response.

Up until that moment, I thought that these two women were pretty classy individuals, but that line right there really clinched it for me.

We eventually stopped when the women said we were close enough to their campsite, and they both got out.

From the red strobe light in my head, to red police lights with klaxons sounding.

Seven of the guys got out to follow them to see what was going on.

At this point, the whole story becomes second hand for the following reasons. A. I really had no interest in what those women were or were not going to do to each other. B. There was no way that they were going to do anything worth seeing. C. Doing anything that could avoid jail time at this point, in my opinion, was a good idea.

Apparently, when the guys got to the women's campsite, they found out that they were not lesbians for hire at all. I know this is a shock to all of you reading. It was an utterly astounding turn of events, to be sure. I think we all thought we were going to witness the magical event that was to be two women kissing and groping each other in a limo filled with 10 men. If that doesn't get you hot.... well... it shouldn't.

After arriving at the campsite, the guys met another man. This pimp/boyfriend proceeded to pull out a knife.

So, our friends decided it was best to call it a night. They asked for their $300 back. The pimp said that $100 was all they were going to get.

Meanwhile, back at the limo, the three of us that didn't go along were just laughing at the whole evening. As for me, I had had an incredibly entertaining night, from losing money in a blink of an eye at the blackjack table, to confusing the bartender at the club, and this just topped it all off. After all, I had nothing to lose in this whole deal, as I hadn't put forth any money and hadn't done anything illegal... that I'm willing to comment on.

Eventually all of the guys came back to the limo and told us the "story" of what had happened over at the campsite. They even went so far as to say that they got back "all" of the money. Even with a slight buzz still in my head, I felt that this was total bullshit.

Here's the "Glen Cam" perspective on what I think happened at the campsite.

Guys follow women to campsite
Women meet pimp
Pimp takes money
Pimp gets out knife
Guys ask for money back
Pimp laughs
Pimp laughs some more
Pimp wipes his eyes and grabs his side
Pimp tells them that they'll be "lucky" to accept $100
Guys take $100 and leave

Looking back at the whole evening, there were a few lessons to be learned.

For me?
1. Don't play blackjack. Ever.
2. Always have a pen and paper handy when alcohol is involved.
3. If a guy at the bar says he's shipping off to Iraq in a few days. Buy him a shot. No questions asked. (He got some good Tequilla)
4. Never chip in for "Hoochies."

For everyone else?
See #'s 1 and 4.