We are there,
smoke machines,
strobe lights,
and oh so much beer,
I am miles away in my head.
My wingman
has a girl on his lap and is
obviously distracted,
I am randomly spoken to
"Are you from here?"
"No I live in another strip club."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"What's with the overalls?"
"Because I saw myself wearing them in a dream!"
"What?"
"Nothing."
(the overalls bit is true)
Then the
I won't lie to you,
sliding of body against body,
hot breath in my ear,
my hands on skin.
I am only human,
More thoughts,
the table of random punks near us getting obviously wound up
on each other and shots,
if their chair hits me there will be trouble,
I'm irritated enough for some harsh language.
They look at me and my friend and quiet a bit,
we are of the large and menacing variety,
(thankfully, I hate confrontation)
More warm bodies and cold alcohol.
Then home,
quiet,
and all the illusions
go to bed.
Thankfully.
