Future

 Saturday night, I took a break from painting to meet up with Tinkerbell and Tech in Ferndale. Tinkerbell was meeting up with a female friend. Tech and I were meeting up with Teach.

I meet up with Tinkerbell and Tech in front of Comos. A restaurant that shows up a few times in my book. It was where Billie and I ate dinner on our first date. Ferndale was having a pride celebration. Tinkerbell and her friend went off to join the crowd. Tech, Teach, and I headed further north to have dinner in Royal Oak.

We ate at a seafood restaurant. I don't care for seafood, but I had a pesto chicken sandwich that I enjoyed. After dinner, we discussed where to head next. Several of the area strip clubs were discussed and rejected. We all agreed clubs on the east side of town would be disappointing. We went to Flight Club on the west side of the city in Inkster. Teach ends up there most weekends anyway. He is a regular there.

The club seemed slow. There were a few more pretty girls there than last time. I still don't feel like spending the money or time becoming a regular at a club. At about ten, a pretty blond girl sat next to me at the upstairs bar. She wore a bright blue thong bikini and white thigh-high socks with matching blue stripes. Teach mentioned her earlier when we were at dinner. He told us how another regular he hangs with always buys her dinner. 

The stripper, I'll call Future, had her right arm in a black sling. She was in a car accident back in 2019. The arm had nerve damage. She could not move it or her hand. I pulled her sad story out of her while she ordered dinner. Sure enough, the regular paid for her meal, and she went to sit next to him when it came. A steak dinner. He cut the meat up for her.

Before she left, she told me about the crash and how the driver, her boyfriend at the time, did not receive any injuries. He slowly ghosted her after the accident. Future spent two months in the hospital. She is twenty-four. Both of her parents are dead. Her mom died when she was eighteen, and her dad when she was twenty. Future has a younger sister who is an addict who recently started Suboxone.

Future isn't allowed to dance on stage because her arm is in a sling. That is where most strippers get exposure. Future must approach customers. A talent that most of these strippers don't have these days. Future had a nice butt, and my damsel-in-distress instincts made me decide to go back for dances with her.

"I'm not looking for any extras," I tell her. "Let's just go back and have a good time."

When we got to the backroom. She took her arm from the sling. It dangled limply at her side. Future tended to hide it. I didn't have her dance for me. Instead, I had her sit on my lap facing me, and we talked some more while my hands drifted over her belly and ass. I told her I had two hundred dollars, and we could hang out for as long as she wanted, but I warned her she should not try taking me for more. 

She was pleased to have someone who wasn't demanding. We started swapping more stories. She told me anecdotes from her days at Penthouse. I mentioned Billie. My thoughts drifted back to Future long after our time in the back ended. It has to be very hard for her to get through the day with only one working arm. We exchanged numbers before I left. I could see myself getting sucked in by that girl. Luckily, I accidentally deleted her number when I went to save it.