The first rule about Fuck Club.
Don’t talk about Fuck Club.
The bar was smoky and redolent with the smell of stale beer and fried onions. The poor lighting competed against the bluish haze of cigarettes and lost. Voices murmured and mixed with outdated tunes from an old Wurlitzer and coalesced into a din that provided a curious anonymity to the speakers.
I fingered the dying end of a Pall Mall and stared into a cheap glass of Bud draft. I was alone and in this dead end bar because of it. My girlfriend Andrea moved out a week ago and I was borderline suicidal. Her last words were burning in my ears.
“You’re not a man, you’re a pussy. You never stand up to anyone not even me. You have a shit job and you are going nowhere. AND… you suck in bed! All that sensitive shit, ‘oooo baby I love you!’ What crap! You fuck with no passion! Loser. I am out of here”
I was angry. At my emasculating job, my smug boss, my lack of money, and my self image as a man, “No passion.” Those words echoed in my skull and vibrated with such ferocity I thought my head would split open. I drained my beer and ordered another. The butt burned my fingers and I stubbed it out in the pile. My reflection in the mirror over the bar showed me my story – loser, limpdick.
Lost in my self-pity, I barely noticed that someone had slid up to the stool next to me. God I hope it’s not some nasty bar trash I thought. I caught a whiff of perfume. The perfume was too elegant for trash. Piqued, I strained with my peripheral vision to see who sat next to me... I looked down and saw a shapely ankle fitted into and expensive 3-inch blue suede pump. The ankle tapered into a shapely calf, which drew up to a lush muscular thigh covered by a white skirt. I looked away. She just wants a drink I thought. She wouldn’t be coming over here for me. I was interested to see what her face looked like but I couldn’t deal with some smug bitch’s pained “ I am out of your league” face.
“Hi there.” I heard. I turned and looked at my neighbor. She was about 30. Trim and compact with blonde hair cropped fashionably short. She had a severe beauty in her face with high cheekbones and cool cobalt eyes that stared at me with a combination of confidence and bemusement.
“Hi” I murmured back. Nothing more.
“Mmmm quiet type aren't you?”
“No,” I said, “Just tired, it has been a long day. I’m sorry.” I turned and offered my hand. “My name is Sean what’s yours?”
“Andrea.”
I gulped hard and felt the pain swell in the pit of my stomach. Christ the same fucking name. Fuck!
She noticed my pained expression. “Are you all right? Do you want me to go?”
“Naw. Its nothing you said. My ex’s name was Andrea so I just ….” My words trailed off.
“Ah… broke your heart?”
“You could say that.”
“Tell me about it. “
“No its bullshit and I am sure you got better things to do.”
Her cool eyes appraised me and with slight smile she said “Buy me a drink and I will be the judge of whether you are wasting my time or not.”
So I did and told her my story. About Andrea, my job, my love life. She listened intently breaking eyes contact only to take a pull from the neck of her beer bottle. I liked how she did that.
When I was done she looked down at the bar and took a deep breath.
“Well that girl really pulled a mind fuck on you. What a bitch. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re a good-looking guy. You should have no problem meeting someone else.”
“ I guess.”
“You guess – you don’t know?”
“Well I….”
“You just have a confidence problem with women and sex. I think I can fix that”
“Oh really – you’re going to help me?” I said with new interest. My luck might be changing.
“Not what you think lover.” she said her hand moving from my thigh. She reached into her purse and pulled out a card and handed it to me. It was an elegant card printed on heavy stock with raised lettering. It read
The Club
234 Van Damien Street
She flipped the card over and wrote “NMTRY – Andrea “
“Here go to this club tomorrow night at midnight.. Give this to the doorman.”
“What is this club?” I asked.
She put her finger over lips. “No – the first rule about the club is we don’t talk about it outside. Just go there and trust them. Ok?”
I wondered what I was getting myself into but her eyes cinched the deal.
“Ok.. Will I see you there?”
She smiled, “I got to go. Nice to meet you Sean.” With that she slid off the stool and headed for the door, I turned to watch her leave and got to see her lithe body as walked out, her ass swaying as she walked. I looked at he card and wondered what I would find at “The Club.”
At midnight the next night I found my self standing in front of a non descript warehouse in a shitty neighborhood. The outside of the building held no clue to what it contained. No sound, no light escaped. I waited ten minutes to see if anyone else entered but on one came. I took a deep breath and walked to the door. I knocked.
A slit opened in the door and a mean face peered through it.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Uh, Andrea asked me to come here.” I handed him my card.
The slit closed and after a minute the door opened.
“Come in Sean.” a female voice called.
I walked into brightly lit foyer. Mean face was standing off to the side impassively with as much interest in me as the dirt on the sole of his shoe. In front of me a brunette impressively filled out a yellow miniskirt. Holding my card she motioned me to follow her.
“Andrea told us to expect you.” She said looking over her shoulder seductively “ You need this place.”