Whew! The heatwave continues in Pittsburgh. It’s another sunny day in Pittsburgh and the high will be 89! Spank my bare bottom and call me a nudist! I don’t think I’m going out until the sun starts to go down. It would be too embarrassing to fall out in the middle of Schenley Plaza. So, since I am retired I’ll just stay in and surf the web and when I get tired of surfing the web I’ll assume my favorite position which is flat on my back on the sofa with two pillows under my weary head and I’ll listen to classical music on the radio as I read the literary short stories of Tim Gautreaux that I checked out of the public library several days ago and the mystery novel Break In by Dick Francis that I checked out from the public library, too. Dick Francis is one of my all time favorite writers of mystery novels. I read all of his novels years ago and now I’m re-reading all of them. Tim Gautreaux is new to me. He’s excellent. He was suggested to me by Jean Michelle whose erotic flash fiction appeared for the first time in July here in the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette and I plan to publish another of her erotic flash fiction stories next month.
Anyway, since I’m probably not going to leave my shabby but comfortable apartment for a few more hours until the sun starts to go down I thought I would republish an old story of mine for your reading pleasure. This is Guy Hogan reporting for the Pittsburgh Flash Fiction Gazette, my blog of culture for adults only. On this blog you get Naked News videos and so much more. So, if you are not already a regular visitor to my blog why don’t you subscribe today! All photos of Mina Winkel were sampled from Egoallstars.
The Topless Dancer
One night in 1975 a young man in Pittsburgh walked into this small club and then he took a seat at the bar next to the dancer sitting on a high stool facing the small stage. The lights were low. It was a few minutes before show time. Only a few patrons, all men, sat at the bar or at the tables around the small stage. Four steps at the right lead up to the stage. Those patrons with a buddy or two talked softly. The loners waited. Some of the men ate slices of pizza a house specialty while they waited. Everyone drank from bottles of beer. The beer cost at least a dollar more than at non-topless bars.
The bartender, a young woman in a tank top, short-shorts and high heels asked the young man what he wanted. He asked for a bottle of Iron City Beer. When the bartender returned with his order the young dancer next to him said, “Tammy, put that on my tab.”
The young man knew the dancer wore only a G-string under the man’s dress shirt she had on.
He said, “I start in two weeks.”
“Eugene, I’m not quitting my job.”
“This isn’t a job. It’s a hustle.”
“This hustle pays my bills,” she said.
“It’s not a career.”
“Maybe I don’t want a career. Look, if you’re going to be unpleasant leave now. Tammy,” she called to the bartender. “What time is it?”
“It’s that time.”
“Cindy,” he said.
“I’m not quitting my job.”
Cindy got up and walked into the short hallway that lead to the dancers’ dressing room. In a moment music with a funky beat blared from the sound system. When Cindy came out she wore only red platform shoes and a black G-string. On the small stage she strutted to the music. The men watched. Eugene watched her and watched the men’s reactions to her. Most of the men simply stared and drank their beers. One man got up and approached the small stage. In the middle of the stage was a shiny, silver pole. Cindy was on the pole upside down, her arms wide open, her legs wrapped around the pole.
When she saw the man had a dollar in his hand she held onto the pole and flipped down onto her feet. She crawled on her hands and knees, sat in front of the man and opened wide and closed her legs several times. He reached with the dollar and she pulled out the waist elastic of her G-string and he put the dollar against her waist and she let the elastic snap back into place to pin the dollar against her skin and all the while her eyes never left the man’s face. He went back to his table.
A couple of men sitting at a table near the stage balled up their dollars and tossed them on the stage.
Eugene had not touched his beer. Now he chugged it down, got up off the high stool and walked to the door. He looked back. Cindy was on her hands and knees as she undulated her body to the music. When Cindy saw him coming she crawled to the very edge of the stage and sat up on her knees in front of him. He stood at the stage watching her, her eyes on his eyes. She shimmied. She cupped her breasts and squeezed them. She did a back flip into a split to come up with her eyes on his then she crawled back to him and sat to open her legs wide and close them several times. He reached in his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and took out a ten dollar bill for her G-string.
Then he walked out of her life forever.
Hail to Pitt!