Well, I was enjoying one of the freedoms that the terrorists hate us for... you know, fighting terror by staying brave and all... at an exotic dance facility. It was only my second time, the first being an enjoyable enough experience to warrant returning. Unfortunately this night wasn't going as well.
The first, um, personal exotic dance rehersal that I received was good. Not great, but not good. The second sucked, because the rehersee seemed tired. Probably the end of her shift. We had a conversation about Nine Inch Nails brought on by my shirt, though.
The final performance promised to be good. She was a short, my-age-looking (that is to say, young) girl with a pleasant face. Seemed familiar somehow. I flagged her over, and she told me she told me that she would be back as soon as she was done on the stage. Sure enough, after two electronic music boogy-woogies, she came back and escorted me to a more comfortable seat.
Once seated, she looked at me for a moment. "You look familiar." I echoed the thought in my head.
"Ummm, I was here a couple nights ago."
"No... where do you live?"
I told her.
"No... did you used to go to church?"
Needless to say, we both had a chuckle. I had indeed gone to the same church she did. Her grandmother was a nice lady who gave me stale candy and constantly tried to set me up with her cute little granddaughter. I was almost as clueless about girls then as I am now, and being set up by one's grandmother is never really ideal, so nothing ever materialized. She did her dance, and it was good.
"That wasn't too weird, now was it?"
No, it wasn't. A little, definitely, but not too weird. I thanked her, smiled, and assured her we were both going to hell. She agreed.