CONFESSIONS

Story 6: MALE STRIPPER

The sky is overcast and the ground wet from an overnight rain.

My favorite jazz duo is Dave Brubeck on piano and Paul Desmond on alto sax. But it can include vocals. On the way to pick up Linda Kraft at the Children's Rehabilitation Center I amuse myself: Tap my fingers on the steering wheel; beat my left foot on the floor to the rhythm of Lady Day singing 'What A Little Moonlight Can Do'; love the runs of the sax solo and know my wife would appreciate the piano work.

Linda is waiting outside the rehab Center when I arrive. You can't miss her: a tall, slender blonde with an infectious smile that lights up a chiseled face. She climbs into the front seat, focuses with her big blue eyes.

"The shuttle guy," she says demurely.

"I'm your shuttle guy, am I?" I retort, enjoy the attention she gives me; consider her fiancé, Brody Todd a lucky man. Formerly a male stripper, he parlayed his money into The Dark Side express tanning-salons.

"Why yes," she responds, her eyes dancing. She reaches over, strokes my head.

"Are you rubbing my bald spot?" I say, smile; wonder if she has any pangs of conscience about her flirting.

She winks. "Hair on the head is overrated... Brody is as bald as a billiard ball."

I laugh, and head north-east to pick up another client, Mr. Ritchie The Piano Man, but continue the conversation. "Brody has done a great job of renovating the front of his tanning place at Huron," I offer.

"Yes, isn't it nice? I don't like him putting so much money into them, but he does it anyway. He did the same thing to the one downtown."

"Do you help him with the business?"

"Oh no, it's his baby. He'd like me to, but I like what I'm doing."

"So, you like kids."

"Oh yes, big time. That's my interest. Boring, I guess. I don't have any hobbies, although I did buy one of those keyboards that light up the notes."

"And...?"

"It's not as easy as they make it seem."

"Piano music's my wife's interest. She bought a Casio and uses my jazz CDs for a guide. She found she could play by ear, but she did take piano lessons as a teenager."

"Well, that's just it. I probably need some lessons."

"It would probably help—boring but useful."

"Yes, I really think I should do that."

I pause before asking, "So... when is the big date...?"

"We don't have a date set. It'll happen sometime but we don't know when. He's got his horses and his business."

"He owns horses?"

"Oh yeah... He barrel-races."

"Barrel races...?"

"Honestly, if he could make a living at it, that's all he'd do."

"How about you, are you interested in horses?"

"I took lessons. Since it was a big interest of his, I thought I should get into it as well. After a while though, I realized I really didn't have an interest, and told him so."

"My sister has a son who became a cowboy... down in Arizona. He, uh..."

Mary, the other shuttle driver calls on the mic, asks where I am.

"I'm on Huron Line... close to the fitness club... Why?" I reply.

"Oh, it's okay," she replies. She had a pickup and wondered if I was closer.

Anyway, Linda gets to meet Mr. Ritchie at the next stop and he gives her some piano pointers. But in case I see a chipmunk with a blue tail and a red nose climbing up the clothes pole, the next story will be about my big test and the ugly use of the race card.