Love in this Club [OPEN]

[Payton Marai Hart]

It smelt like sex. That been-locked-in-the-bedroom-all-day smell; the room was stuffy, heavy, ripe with sweat, cheap perfume and arousal. The lights were turned down low – to set the mood or to mask the faces and feelings of the patrons? The stage, front and center, and the bar on the other side of the room were the only two real sources of light. The rest came in the form of small candles set on each small table and corner booths. The tables up front were full of boisterous young men and women having a good time, a party of some sort, perhaps; busy coaxing and taunting the dancers with paper money, buying their entertainment. The tables more in the back, the dark ones, were occupied by single guests or pairs leaned in close discussing business or the likes. A lone booth sat vacant and Payton quickly moved to occupy it.

She felt cheap just being here; the atmosphere, the people, the cliché music that men and women took their clothes off too. It was cheap, but it was also one of the few places Payton felt she could escape to and not be judged as she downed drink after drink in solitude. It wasn’t as if this town was particularly known if it’s nightlife, after all, besides here her options were eating alone at Archie’s or the karaoke bar – not her cup of tea. She sat, resting her back against the cheap fabric of the booth, hailing a waitress.

“Whiskey on the rocks, please.”

[/b] Something strong, fast, and effective. It wasn’t normally her ideal drink, but her favorite cocktails, beers and martinis didn’t seem suitable for the occasion. She shrugged out of her parka as her scantily clad sever moved to the next customer. She set her jacket next to her and habitually tugged the sleeves of her sweater down over her wrists, brushed the length of her hair out of her face. A normal confident, social women found herself fumbling uncomfortably in her seat. She had been here before, seen all these…sights, but it never ceased to get any less awkward. Payton herself was numb to these types of things – a sexual being, yes, but experienced – or even aware of the behaviors that she’d seen here? No. Her eyes, dark in the dim candle light, looked anywhere but the stage.

A few minutes ticked by before the server girl slid a small glass towards Payton. “Just put it on my tab,” Payton said before she could be asked. The waitress nodded and once again left Payton to her own devices. She stretched back against her seat, arms extended and hands cupped over the little flame as her body warmed and relaxed. Outside a blizzard was idling down, and traffic was relatively low – even her sensitive ears couldn’t pick up any outside noises. It was cold, snowy, windy…all conditions that deterred most people from travel, especially this late at night. Payton guessed it was near eleven or so. She’d just gotten off work not too long ago herself and didn’t feel like making her way across town to the trailer park and her lowly, leaky drafty trailer. Okay, it wasn’t that bad. It was indeed ugly, leaky and drafty, but it was also comfortable, cozy, and home. She knew too that her dog, a great moose of a dog – Murdoch – would be waiting. She would at least wait until the roads were cleared though.

She let out a sigh and let her body relax as she reached for her drink. She was not particularly a fan of whiskey, but instead forced herself to endure it. In her own mind she was working her way up to expensive malt scotches – the rich man’s drink, as she saw it. Seemed classy, anyways. A faint smile pulled at her pouty lips as she lifted the glass and took a swig. Her body gave a shudder in response as she did her best to control her face as she felt it contort in a sour-disgusted sort of look. The taste didn’t seem to get any better but everyone assured her this was the way.

Feeling brave, she let her wander now, the first time since she’d first gotten here. It seemed to have filled in a little more in those short few minutes as peak hours began to near and the best dancers were promised. She was glad they didn’t discriminate here – both male and female dancers were present, though preference went to the females (and between you and her, Payton got the feeling that the male dancers were gay, anyways, and held no particular thrill for a girl like her). More men than women were also present amongst the guests – that got another smile. She placed her chin upon the palm of her hand as she surveyed the lot. There were normally never any bachelor parties here in small town South Dakota, so it was safe to assume single men, but hell, what did she know. Couples were in to these types of things, right?

Another swig of her drink. She felt a warmth burn down her throat as she held in another shudder. Finally, she allowed herself a peak at the main event. Decently attractive women marched fashionably onto stage. Their outfits racy and already revealing for people who were about to bare it all. She didn’t know how she felt about places like this but it didn’t matter – she had no one to answer to as far as morals went. ’Come on now, bring on the men.’ She found herself thinking. Innocent, maybe, but Payton was still a flirt with desires and fantasies and dreams, too. Give it a few more drinks and hey – the night was young – she could end up on stage herself tonight.
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