Wednesday, June 11, 2008

American story


International Writing Program in Iowa showed us America from many, unexpected angles. Like that advertisement in University newspaper for “Night Dancer Club” where beside of usual stable of fourteen strip dancers a new striptease star Candy Apples will feature her show called “The best chest in the west”. Well, if we regard it as our destiny to see the Pyramids or meet the Pope once in a lifetime, then the best chests seemed equally important. So I went for it with my colleagues.

In Europe, strip clubs are usually in the center of town, but this American one was located on the outskirts between what looked like two dilapidated storage buildings. From the outside, and for that matter from the inside, it didn't look very exclusive. Admission was cheap, and the drinks were no more expensive than in a regular bar. You could even play billiards, very cheaply, during the breaks between the dancers. And that was it. A few dim lights concealed how shabby the place really was. And, of course, there was the mega-decibel music.

The girls -- raison d’être of the place -- were an interesting mix of ages and body contours. They do five or ten minutes stints on the stage. Each brings her own music to the DJ to emphasize her charm and personality -- if she has any, which isn't always the case. A G-string covered the only thing left to the imagination by the end of each dance.

When a girl finishes her act, she can wander across the club to do table dancing, where steering and more extensive touching are allowed. She can also take customer to the chairs near the back-wall, where she reveals more or gives more caresses than elsewhere in the club.
Candy Apples, the star of the evening, wasn't tall, but she was perfectly built. And as the star, she had finer costume to take off. Although her dance routine was short, the stage was ringed with customers. Unlike the other girls, she didn't provide off-stage services. But she did something special. Instead of having a bill slipped under her G-string, she would take it in her hand, fold it, and place it on the customer's nose. Then she would lift it in her cleavage by squeezing her breasts together. Effective, elegant, and speedy. In a few minutes her garter belt was lined with dollar bills.

I must confess that I couldn’t resist the chance to have the most beautiful breasts in the west pry a dollar bill from my bulbous nose. It was really an experience of a lifetime -- like being cuddled by a mother, having something big, soft, and aromatic pressed against your eyes. You are poorer by a dollar bill but richer for the experience.

After her show Candy was selling her pictures and was prepared, for a fee, to sit half-naked on your lap, for a photograph. This could be useful for causing envy among your friends or giving your wife evidence in a divorce action. I wasn’t interested in this particular offer, but I did want to know more about her. A writer has to do research.

I introduced myself. Candy was quite friendly, but she looked suspiciously at my business card for a long time. Then, quite spontaneously, she exclaimed, “Slovakia! We're almost countrymen. My name is Halyna; I'm originally from Ukraine.”

Yes it's true, my friends. The best chest in the West is actually from the East.

Available in E-books: book/svetje-maly-the-world-is- small/id554103459?mt=11 book/le-monde-est-petit-world- is/id554104733?mt=11 book/the-world-is-small-svet- je-maly/id554101744?mt=11

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great Story! You delivered a wonderful punch line at the end :)