I am a horny, young black male whose Saturday night drive in search of a bar or club to visit has led me to Southeast San Antonio's Sugar Time Lounge on Bill Miller Lane, the birthplace of the local Bill Miller "barbecue" restaurant chain and where the first Bill Miller restaurant still exists. Barbecue
aficionados
dislike it, and rightly so. It is a faux barbecue chain with a cafeteria set up and whose fare is mainly reheated, pre-grilled meats, fried chicken, chicken tenders and over-priced tacos.
In my infrequent visits to any Bill Miller site, it is for the fried chicken; sweet, iced tea; or, sometimes, the over-priced tacos (breakfast and other). Sometimes, I also get one of the desserts. However, I must say the city has far better choices for all of these.
The name of the bar beside that Bill Miller restaurant, the "Sugartime Lounge" (now the Sugartime Shot Bar), suggests the place might be a gentleman's club. I would later learn that it had been at some time. The following happened one Saturday night in summer 1998, in my first visit to the bar in a mostly Latino section of town.
Sugartime is having a slow night with just a handful of patrons, some playing pool. I take a seat at the bar. Later, a pretty Latina with black, curly, shoulder-length hair and in a short, black skirt and high heels enters and sits at a table diagonally behind me.
I glance toward the woman. Her attire and body language signal that she like me is seeking action. I decide to approach the woman's table and ask her permission to join her because I'm polite like that. She grants permission.
Extending my hand, I say "Hi. My name is 'Eddie.' What's your name?" ("Eddie" is not my real name, but I'm not given our actual names here.)
The woman smilingly responds as we shake hands, "Elena." (That was not the actual name given. I'm giving her this name rather than referring to her as "the woman.")
During the familiar small talk, I learn that Elena like me is in her first visit to the bar. She says, "I was in the neighborhood visiting a friend. I couldn't sleep." She informs that she actually lives near the airport--an area I would move to three years later.
During our chatter Elena eventually pauses and asks, "Can I be blunt?" I tell her she can. She then asks, "Why did you sit with me?"
I tell Elena "It's because I think you're attractive."
Elena asks, "Do you think I'm attractive because I'm wearing a short skirt?"
"No," I reply. "I think you're really beautiful."
Elena pauses with a wicked grin and then asks. "So, would you like to go outside with me and fuck me?" I reply that I would.
As Elena and I rise from the table, she says, "I'm ready when you are." As we walk to the exit another pool-playing patron remarks, "THAT was easy."
Elena and I walk to a dark corner of the bar exterior in the parking lot. We are concealed from anyone on Bill Miller Lane, which is adjacent to the other side of the bar exterior. However, anyone driving or walking around our side of the bar exterior or peering through the wooden fence on one side of us would have gotten an eyeful.
I nervously ask Elena, "Don't you want to go somewhere more private?"