"Jesus, it's a bit seedy round here, isn't it?" I said to my wife as we walked out of the movie theatre and headed towards a row of cabs at the end of the street. I hadn't noticed when we entered the theatre early in the evening, but now that it was dark things seemed very different.
"Yeah, I guess so," my wife replied. "It's always had a bit of a reputation, this place."
Across the street from us there were two young black women standing at the corner. They wore very short skirts, stockings and high heels. They were obviously prostitutes. A few yards in front of us another girl dressed the same way was leaning into the window of a car that had just stopped by the side of the road. Seconds later she was inside and I expected to see the car drive off so they could find somewhere deserted to conduct business. As my wife and I walked past I glanced inside the car to see the girl's hand reach for the driver's lap. She unzipped his cock and bent over him, enveloping it in her mouth. I turned rapidly away only to find my wife had stopped walking with me. She was stood beside the car, brazenly staring at what was going on inside. I grabbed her arm, and pulled her alongside me.
"Sally. What do you think you're doing?" I asked her.
"Did you see that? Oh my God," she began to laugh, holding her hands over her face.
"I think we'd better get out of here."
"How about we go for a drink?" she asked.
"Okay," I said. "Let's get a cab somewhere,"
"What's wrong with somewhere around here?" she asked.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," I said. Apart from the hookers, there was also what looked like a gang of drug dealers hanging around at the end of the street.
"Oh, come on Tom. Where's your sense of adventure? Let's go somewhere with a bit of life for a change."
This wasn't the first time that my wife had commented on my lack of spontaneity and the fact that we always went to the same places all the time. I had even argued about us coming to the cinema here tonight, instead of our usual multiplex, but Sally had insisted, saying she was bored and wanted to try somewhere different. My wife telling me that she was bored was becoming a frequent topic of conversation lately. I am almost ten years older than Sally and there were times when the age difference became all too apparent.
"Where do you suggest?"
"Um, I don't know. How about over there," she said, pointing to a shady lounge bar across the street, with a bright neon sign displaying the words "Jake's Bar". There was loud music blaring from inside. My first instinct was to laugh and say no chance, but I could see that Sally expected me to do that. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing me too well, and anyway we wouldn't have to stay too long if it was really bad.
"Okay," I said. "Let's go."
She looked a little surprised that I didn't argue about it, but she said nothing and took my arm as we crossed the street. As we entered the bar, everybody inside stopped talking and turned to look at us. We looked really out of place there, just as I knew we would. All the other patrons were black apart from two young white girls standing by the bar, who were both dressed in a mini skirt and boob tube combination. It made me feel really uncomfortable, especially as the people didn't look to be too welcoming of strangers. I was about to tell Sally that we should leave, but she held my arm and dragged me towards the bar.
As soon as we had ordered a couple of beers from the bartender, the raucous laughter and loud conversation started up again. Sally and I took our bottles and sat down in one of the empty booths at the back of the bar.
"So you like it here, huh?" I asked.
"It's okay. At least the people are having a good time," she said. But I noticed that she seemed to be on edge, and kept looking around her nervously.
I followed her eyes. There was no-one sitting near us and the only people visible were the ones standing near the bar. A large bearded black man was trying to get one of the girls in mini skirts to dance with him, but she just pushed him away and began laughing hysterically with her friend.
"Excuse me," I said standing up from the booth.
"Where are you going?"
"To the rest room. I won't be a minute."
It was the filthiest toilet I'd ever seen in my life. The floor was all wet, there was tissue paper everywhere, and the washbasins had what looked like bloodstains all over them. I tiptoed over the wet patches on the floor and positioned myself in front of the urinal. When I had finished I tiptoed back to the washbasin and turned the tap on with one finger, avoiding the bloodstains at the edge. After washing my hands I walked over to the electric dryer and pressed the button. The hot air lasted for about two seconds before switching off again. I pressed it again and the same thing happened. In the end it must have taken me about five minutes to get my hands dry.
As I walked out of the toilet I decided that we'd have the one drink and then go. I didn't fancy having to use the facilities here again. As I approached the booth I suddenly stopped dead in my tracks. There were two men sitting with my wife. One had pulled up a chair, while the other was actually in the booth with her. I could see one of them peeking down Sally's low cut dress and staring at her cleavage while he talked to her. I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked to me like the other man had his hand on her thigh. To my surprise, instead of looking distressed, my wife was actually giggling and smiling at them.
I quickly rushed over and stood in front of them. As I did so I saw the one in the booth place his hands on the table. I was pretty sure he had been touching Sally's legs until he saw me coming.
"What's going on?" I asked giving a piercing look to both guys.
"Oh Tom, this is Mike and Eddie. They thought they knew me from here before."
"Before?" I asked.
"Yeah," the one named Mike said. "Anyway, it was good to see you again Sally."
As they walked away I sat back in the booth.
"Come on, let's get out of this dump," I said.
"What for? What's the problem?"
"Jesus, you'd think they'd come up with a better routine than that. As if you used to be a drinking buddy in the good old days or something. I saw that guy pawing you, while his friend stared at your tits. Why didn't you tell them to get lost?"
"Hey, first of all no-one was pawing me at all. That must be your imagination. Secondly, I can't help it if someone looks at my tits. Hell, it happens every day. When I'm at work, when I'm out shopping. That's just what you men are like."
"Well, you didn't have to encourage them like that, laughing and smiling at them."
"Why not? They were pretty funny. It was just a laugh. Come on, you remember what that's like, surely."
Something in her tone made me back off slightly. I didn't want to turn this into another generation gap argument. I guess she was right, they were just having a bit of fun. I used to do the same sort of thing when I was their age, so what was the problem? They probably didn't know she was married and they did leave quietly when I came along. When I first saw them there I thought I might have had to get physical with them.
"Okay. Fair enough. But I still think that if someone's trying to chat you up they could have come up with a better line than the old 'haven't I seen you somewhere before' routine."
"Well, actually I think they had. They might have done, anyway."
"What? Where?"
"Here, a few years ago."
"Here? What were you doing here?" I couldn't believe my wife had ever been in a sleazy dive like this place before, especially as she didn't have any black friends that I knew of.
"It was years ago, before we were married. I only came in once or twice."
"Yes, but why?"
"It was when I was in college, I came with Tina. You remember Tina."
I remembered Tina all right. I was so pleased when she moved out of town shortly after we were married. I knew right away that she was a very bad influence. I never once saw her when she wasn't wasted on drink and drugs, and she always seemed to have a new boyfriend every week. It was as if she just chewed them up and spit them away.
