"Are you a man or a mouse?"
Charlie was goading me, and I didn't like it. He thought he was being funny, but I could use my superior intelligence so that the joke was on him.
With a straight face, and in a formal tone, I said, "I'm definitely a member of the Homo sapiens family, and not Mus musculus."
That took the wind out of his sails, and he was now looking at Jim, hoping that he could explain what I'd just said. Jim was happy to enlighten him.
While smiling, he said, "Ed says that he's a man and not a mouse."
"Then why didn't he just say that? It would have been simpler."
I could hear the hurt in his voice. I'd gone too far, poking fun at his lack of knowledge. Charlie was a good friend, and I should make it up to him.
With my hand on his shoulder, and against my better judgment, I said, "OK, I'll go into the club."
His big smile told me that I was forgiven.
Today was Charlie's twenty first birthday, and we were out on the town celebrating it. We'd had a few drinks in an Irish bar, and we were now looking for somewhere to eat. A short walk from the bar was a place that my Father would describe as a Gentleman's Club. To me it was a Girly Bar, and it was somewhere that I didn't want to go into, but Charlie did.
When I'd said, "No way, Emma wouldn't like it. She says these places exploit women," that's when he'd asked me if I was a man or a mouse.
We had to pay a hefty price to get in, and because it was Charlie's birthday, we paid for him. When I'd been outside, my expectations of the club had been low. However, now that we were in, I was pleasantly surprised.
No expense had been spared with the fixtures and fittings. This could be a luxurious hotel rather than a Gentleman's Club. And if this was indeed such a club, then where were the scantily dressed women?
After a round of drinks, and some bar food, we found out more about the club from one of the members.
"If it's the ladies that you're interested in, then go to the second floor."
I was married to the delectable Emma, so I wasn't looking for some action, but Charlie and Jim being single, and currently unattached, were.
We were now seated at a table in the main room on the second floor. A waitress was taking our order. She was wearing a red bikini, so small, that if she was to make a sudden movement, then her ample breasts might spill out. And because she was standing next to Charlie, and he was seated, if that was to happen, then they would be in his face. He'd like that. When she walked away, to get our drinks, she wiggled her bottom in an exaggerated manner that was almost comical. Jim couldn't take his eyes off it.
Charlie asked, "So what do you think of this place?"
I said, "It's OK, if you like that sort of thing."
That got a laugh from Jim, and then he said, "Come on Ed. What's there not to like about it?"
Before answering him, I took another look at the room. All the waitresses were dressed in red bikinis, and all were at least as attractive as the one that had just taken our order. And in the middle of the room, on a small stage, were two exotic dancers. They were topless, dancing close together in an erotic way. It was something that Emma would disapprove of, and she might be right, but their gyrations were making me hard. I hadn't wanted to be here, but now that I was, I should lighten up and enjoy myself.
Turning to Jim, I said, "I'll tell you what I don't like about this place," and then, after briefly pausing, for dramatic effect, I declared, "The price of the drinks."
That made them laugh.
I'd joked about the cost of the drinks, but for me, and indeed all of us, money wasn't a problem. Charlie worked for his Father, a successful business man who owned a lot of properties. Jim, like me, was twenty seven. Together, we were partners in a biotech company that, because of its patents, was making us serious money.
We were now on shots, and we were all drunk. Not falling about drunk, but happy drunk. We were talking a bit too loud, and laughing at silly jokes. When a smartly dressed man came over to our table I thought that he was going to ask us to leave, and I was getting ready to apologize for our rowdiness.
In a voice that was both posh and charming, he quietly said, "Would you gentlemen prefer a private room?"
Then, before any of us could answer him, he was leading us towards the room.
"I'm sure that you will be more comfortable here. This is for our VIPs."
I flopped onto one of the leather chairs, and the other two sat on the large sofa that was opposite me.
"The waitress will be here shortly."
When he turned to leave, we all shouted out thanks, and that got, "You're welcome. Enjoy yourself," from him, as he was closing the door on us.
But after a while, we were still waiting to be served, and we were beginning to wonder if we would ever be.
"He's put us in here to get us out of the way. I bet the door is locked."
Charlie might be right.
Then Jim chipped in with, "I think any minute now some goons are going to burst through the door and kick the shit out of us."
That was dramatic, and even to my alcohol fuddled mind, something that I thought was never going to happen. However, like the other two, I was now staring at the door.
When it suddenly opened, it startled us, but there was nothing to worry about. In front of us was a waitress. She was gorgeous, Venus de Milo in a red bikini. And on one hand she was balancing a tray that contained an open bottle of champagne and three glasses.
While smiling radiantly, she said, "Compliments of the Management."
You'd think that pouring liquid from a bottle into a glass was a simple act, but from her it was artistic, and surprisingly, also erotic. It was done slowly, and as she poured the champagne, one of her hands caressed the neck of the bottle. That was very suggestive. Watching her do it, made my pulse race, and my cock hard.
For the first few seconds after waking up, I was disorientated, and then it all became clear. I was in the spare bedroom. I'd got back late, and despite being drunk, I'd had the good sense to sleep here so as not to disturb Emma.
