The Good News Was
girls who danced in this cafe- grandfather placed everything in the trash can barrel
- “That could be anybody.”
- the fervency of a small child when he really, really wants something
- a metal chain, gold colored
Tune in next time part 182 Click Here for Earlier Installments
The good news was that I was finally leaving Valentine Village. Also, I would at last get to change out of my itchy, restrictive lace jumpsuit and borrowed underwear.
The rest of the news was bad. Mother had me trapped in the back of a windowless van, headed for the airport and a destination she wouldn’t reveal. Her comment about photographers felt like a hint, the kind of game she liked to play.
My new clothing was, dammit, another jumpsuit. But it was the proper size and made of black corduroy, and infinitely more comfortable than the previous one. Mother insisted I also wear a metal chain, gold colored, and saddle shoes. I protested with the fervency of a small child when he really, really wants something, or in this case really, really doesn’t want it, but she was implacable.
The van slowed as I tied my shoes. I heard a plane taking off. Mother’s flunky shut off the engine and came back to open the cargo doors, and I saw that we weren’t technically at the airport. We were at one of the seedy strip malls across the highway from it. Most of the storefronts were gentlemen’s clubs. Strip mall, indeed.
Mother tucked her hair up under a backwards ball cap, and put on dark glasses even though it was after sunset.
“Hey, ain’t that the president’s mom?” called a loud voice across the parking lot.
His companion shook his head, teetering drunkenly. “That could be anybody.”
I was ushered into the nearest club, a surprisingly wholesome establishment. It was what you’d get if you started with a regular strip club, but then your grandfather placed everything in the trash can barrel unless it was somehow breakfast-themed, and he kept doing that through seven renovations of your club. Even the girls who danced in this cafe were clean and bright as dawn’s first rays.
“Coffee?” asked a dancing waitress in a Gingham thong.
bonus points for using them in reverse order