Changing Seasons

Twenty-Three

****

At roughly midnight, Athena told Michael she wanted to go home, but he wanted to hit up the strip club first. They'd argued, but Michael ultimately got his way.

The club was located near the freeway in a plaza with Mexican food and an adult shop. It was an 18 and up "juice bar," so Krist could enter with Michael. Athena hadn't wanted to go. Michael handed her a few bills and told her to go pick out some shit for work at the adult shop.

Krist followed Michael inside. Entry was good for one drink. Michael had Mountain Dew, and Krist had water. It was a large club with deep red velvet decor and a small stage to the right of the "bar."

A few men were seated at tables or at the stage. The girl dancing wasn't particularly hot. She had an average body with small tits and a droopy ass. She moved without enthusiasm, going through the motions with little effort. A couple girls were walking around, stopping at tables for small talk, hoping to secure a private dance.

One approached Krist and Michael, sitting down at their table. She was definitely a tweaker, very thin but somehow flabby. She had decent-sized tits, but they had pick marks, as did her face and thighs, visible even in the dim light. Her hair was long blond, fried from bleach, and her pupils large.

"How are you guys doing tonight?" She smiled, teeth crooked.

Michael grinned flirtatiously, "I'm doing real good now."

"That's what I like to hear," she said, "What are your names?"

"I'm Michael, and this is Krist," Michael took a swig of his Mountain Dew.

"I'm Crystal," she extended her hand. Krist almost laughed. Of course, she fucking was.

"You guys want a private dance? I can do a two-for-one," she smiled. Crooked ass teeth.

"Hell yeah," Michael grinned.

"Naw, I'll pass," Krist said politely.

"Your loss," he told him as he stood. Michael followed Crystal into one of the private rooms for his dance.

Krist pulled out his phone to check his messages, and one of the security guys was right on him, "No phones, you need to put that away." Krist slid his phone into the pocket of his Dickie's, picking at the label of his water bottle.

He was joined a few minutes later by Athena, "Where did Michael go?" She wanted to know.

"He's over there," he said, nodding to the private dance rooms.

"Go fucking figure," she muttered, folding her skinny arms over her chest.

They sat silently, watching the unenthusiastic dancer gyrate to Ginuwine's Pony as depressed-looking middle-aged men sat dollars on the stage rails.

Krist had never been to a strip club before and certainly hadn't expected it to be a depressing experience.

"This place is whack as fuck," he told Athena as the first unenthusiastic dancer was replaced by a slightly more enthusiastic girl.

"You're telling me," she said, almost smiling, "The only reason anyone comes here is because it's eighteen and up and the girls will fuck you."

Krist gave her a half-cocked smile, "No way."

"Yup. My cousin Tina worked here. All the girls do."

"Damn, I didn't know they could."

"They're not supposed to. Other clubs don't allow it. If you get caught trying to provide in them, they'll kick you out, and you can't work there no more," she informed him.