Worth the Wait

She was there, after all. And she was as pretty as I remembered. And she was worth the wait.

I knew which city I was going to land in. I knew which club that meant I would visit. And I knew which dancer that I wanted to see again.

I just wasn't totally sure that I was going to make it there. But, at the end of a seven hour white-knuckle drive through a pounding storm, I made it. A smart man would have turned in at the hotel after a ten o'clock check-in on a week night. But the club was calling. It took me another hour to settle in and freshen up before I entered the familiar doors of the club.

"Hi. Are you the "doorguy" who left a comment on my blog?"

"How's it going? Yeah, Dancer told me that you had mentioned your blog. Thanks for the nice comments about our club. ...She's in tonight."

I moved through the club to find an inconspicuous table and relax. I scanned the room as I walked, looking for Dancer. Not sure at all that I would recognize her again until she got onstage and I saw those great stage moves again. I could see the white board in the DJ booth from my table - could see her name on a list of eight or so dancers - but was not sure where we were in the rotation.

As soon as I settled in and took a long draw on an Amber Bock draft all of the tension from long stormy road drained out of me. It was all I could do to stay awake and enjoy my surroundings. I must have been giving off that vibe, because everyone pretty much left me alone to enjoy the stage show through my drowsiness.

As soon as DJ called up the next dancer, I figured out where we were. I had just missed Dancer and I would have to wait through the rotation. With everyone doing a long 3 song set, it was going to be a while. I was, in fact starting to worry that I had missed her as I watched a pretty girl cash out (tip out?) with the door guy in her civilian clothes. Was that her? I don't think so, but I wasn't trusting my memory in my tired state. Maybe I should just call it a night and crash.

And then, eventualy, the rotation returned to the top and I heard DJ call Dancer's name. And there she was, standing up from a table where she had been setting for a long time working a customer. She passed by me on the way to the stage, and it came immediately back to me. Watching her spritz and wipe the pole, oh yeah. And then the dance.

She is a stripper, true. But she is also a Dancer, and an excellent one at that. The first dance is for her. Graceful moves, checking herself out in the mirror opposite the stage. Turns. Kicks. Moves. It's a privilege to watch her own the stage and practice her craft.

I meet Dancer again at the tiprail. Up close and personal I definitely remember her. The habit at this particular club is to come down off of the stage and to straddle the customer's lap for an upclose and personal tip. We did this twice. First in her signature straddle with her back to me, pushing that perfectly shaped beautiful ass into my chest. Then again, facing me and greeting me with that luminous smile.

A movie star smile. A movie star look. A dead ringer in fact for one of my favorite starlets - Kate Beckinsale. Not the Kate Beckinsale look from "Underworld". And not quite the Kate Beckinsale look from "Pearl Harbor", although the coy and flirtatious 50's essence is there in it's most positive sense. Close, but a little more raw. I'm thinking the Kate Beckinsale from the movie "Laurel Canyon" (click here for pic). Really beautiful. Movie star beautiful.

"Would you find me for a dance after your set?", I asked.

Dancer came off the stage and extended her hand and off we went to the couches, where we jumped into a couch dance to Evanesence's "Wake me Up". Two terrific dances. Sensual more than sexual. I relaxed in my tiredness and just enjoyed her skill and her professionalism. The delicious feel of her on my lap. The tingle of her silky hair against my cheek. The heat of her breath on my neck. The radiance of her beautiful smile. Dancer was very skillful and very professional.

"I definitely remember you", was all I could think to say.

"Yeah", she said, "you're the blog guy. I still read it."

I'm honored.

I would have liked to have spent time talking with her at a table. Or to spend more time on the couch. But I hit the hotel and crashed into a deep, contented sleep.

Thank you Dancer, it was a pleasure.