Research is Hell

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you may be swept off to."
Bilbo Baggins

Research is Hell

posted 07/30/04
I’ve been wanting to do a story about Highway 99 for some months now. If Route 66 is what John Steinbeck called the "Mother Road" then surely Highway 99 is her ugly stepsister. It’s a gritty, fascinating path that spans the US from Canada to Mexico. Much of its original path has been lost to other, newer roads but sections are still intact.

In Portland Oregon the section in the city is called Interstate Avenue. And in Seattle it’s Aurora Avenue. Everything you could possibly want can be found there. Need a used car? A part for your plumbing? A store that sells wild game meat? A date? It can all be found on Aurora.

Of course a good story requires research and finding myself in Seattle on a Tuesday evening with nothing planned, I decided to do some of that research. I headed out to the Club Hollywood to get a few pictures of the glitzy neon front that lit up the night. Across the street, I framed some snapshots and as I turned around I realized that I was in front of Sugar’s. No windows, a blank façade, I figured that it was a strip joint and that while I was taking pictures of the glitz, I should also explore the tawdry. Strictly in the interest of literary research you understand.

I found the door around the side, paid the cover, and was invited in by a young woman who didn’t look old enough to have valid ID much less check mine. She was friendly though and called a waitress over to give me a personal escort to a table. She was very nice and gave me lots of attention and arm-in-arm guiding through the dimly lit seating area. I was impressed with the attention and a bit flattered too. The waitress sat me right in the first row, center of the stage. I tried not to look the out-of-towner so I casually ordered a margarita.

"Sorry," She said. "We’re a non-alcoholic establishment sir. All we have a are soft drinks and bottled water." Oops, missed that on the sign out front.

I ordered a coke, laid a ten on the table and she returned a five! Yikes! This was worse than Safeco field! Well, I kept telling myself that it’s all literary research and I hoped that it would be deductible. So far though, I was out a total of $15 and all I had in front of me was an empty stage and a coke that was mostly ice. Well, no one was dancing just then so I looked around to check out the décor for its…atmosphere?

Dim lights? Yup. Red wallpaper? Sure. Mirrors on the walls? Check. Brass pole on the stage! How old fashioned. Then the show began with a flourish of music and patter from the DJ to "welcome one of Sugar’s finest dancers, Miss Candy!" Candy was a tall, slender, small breasted, brunette with a tattoo that would normally be covered by the skimpiest bikini. Absolutely none of this was speculation by the end of her dance. She also looked so young that I assumed that she took this job to work her way through High School.

After her number, she walked over to where I was seated, smiled a 500-watt smile, and sat down next to me. Then she threw her leg over my leg and grabbed my other thigh with her near hand and asked me if I wanted a dance! I felt like Tom Cruise at a college mixer and again, not wanting to appear an out-of-towner I gave Candy my best blank stare and stuttered "Huhuhunh?"

"You know, a dance, a lap dance. $20." She said. She then explained that she received only a small wage for dancing on the stage but that her real money was made in lap dancing.

"Hunh?" I repeated.

"Look behind you," she said and I turned.

When had I walked in, a portion of my mind had registered that there were lots of couples in the audience. I remembered thinking how unusual this was as every other club of this type I had ever seen the audience had been almost exclusively men. I thought that it was odd to bring a date to a strip joint but times change. Now as I looked more carefully, I realized that the female half of all the couples were all "dancers" from the club!

Meanwhile, Candy is leaning closer and closer and even though I really want to escape, I feel a tingling below my belt.

"My God" I thought. "This girl must be turning me on!" I really was tingling. Actually, I was vibrating! Then I remembered that as I came into the bar, I had turned my cell phone to its silent mode and what I was feeling was the vibration of an incoming call. With some relief I pulled my phone out and without looking at the incoming call number I answered it…

Now let me say this unequivocally: there is nothing, absolutely nothing, more disconcerting than to have your wife’s voice in one ear while a strange woman has a firm grasp of your thigh. I repeat, nothing!

"Hi honey. I hear music. Where are you?"

"Um, I’m in a bar."

"I hear Jimi Hendrix, so it’s not live?"

I reach for Candy’s hand and try to pry it off my leg."Ah, no. Not all of it."

"You mean some of it is?"

"I mean no, it’s all DJ’ed."

I’m finally able to get Candy’s hand off but I think that she knows who’s calling because her professional face has been replaced by a wicked grin. She’s enjoying being a tease and she’s clamped her leg down hard on my thigh. Reception is bad enough so that I can truly say "You’re breaking up. I’ll call you back."

And I did call her back, and we have a good laugh over my predicament. She chuckled at my humorous description of the bar and my misunderstanding of its nature.

The next day though when I arrived home, I was surprised to see that she had been target practicing. On the man sized silhouette target too. She’d shot a very tight group though it was extremely low!

Later, she helped me unpack and even assisted as I counted out the receipts and the remaining money. Looking for a missing $20 I presume. Thank goodness the finances reconciled. Not that I’d ever worry about a divorce. She’s too good a shot for that!

- The Old Squid

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