Well, my two buddies and I were in the SC, and a lady offered to show us her country garden in an adjacent room. We asked if we could all go in together, so we could share the $20 entrance fee.
She declined -- but yes, we did ask.
I would expect she did decline... ya cheap bums...lol Guys get stupid when they drink eh.
Whaddya mean, cheap bums?
I remember the occasion very well.
There I was, sitting at our table with a couple of engineer buddies, swigging our beer, and talking about this and that -- How many lawyers it takes to change a light bulb -- that sort of thing.
One of the ladies sashayed over to our table.
“So how are you boys doing today? Can I interest you in a private dance?”
“Hey, we’ve heard about that. Why don’t you sit down and explain what it is.”
“Come on, what’s to explain? I do a dance, and its private.”
“Well, I dunno. Where would we go?”
“We go through into that area over there, and into one of the private cubicles.”
“How private is private?”
“Well, they’re all side by side, so you cant see into them unless you are walking right in front. Like being in prison.”
“How much does it cost?”
“It’s $20 per song.”
There were some sharp intakes of breath at this news. We had to turn away for a quiet conference. After a bit of head shaking, we asked her, “Can we all come in together for the same price?”
“No,” she said. “Ya cheap bums! It’s $20 each. And it’s one at a time.”
After a bit of chit-chat, we’d almost pinned her down to the three of us trying to guess her age, and she’d give a free dance to the one who was nearest.
But then she reneged on that idea. “I can’t believe you guys. Come on, $20 isn’t going to break you.”
“Maybe not, but that’s no reason not to be careful.”
“Besides, you should never ask a woman her age. I’m surprised your mother didn’t explain that to you.”
“My mother is a fine woman. You remind me of her.”
“Oh? Does she take her clothes off in strip-clubs?”
“Not any more. But she is persistent when she’s trying to persuade me do things.”
After a bit more chit-chat, “I’m beginning to wonder what you boys are doing here, if you’re not interested in seeing bare women.”
“Nah, we’re engineers. We’re only here for the beer.”
“Well, it is Double-D. By coincidence, that’s my bra cup size.”
We all had a pull at our beer.
“As a matter of fact, I did once have a private dance, in the backroom.”
“Well, tell me. Did you like it?”
“She was a very gracious lady. She was kind enough to show me her country garden.”
“Hey, baby! My hobby is gardening. And there’s always room for another. You’ll especially like me. Fine fellow like you.”
And so it went on.
“Didn’t you boys see me up on the stage? What did you think of my tits?”
She leaned forward, showing awesome cleavage. She swished her top down for a moment, giving us a quick glimpse of one superb breast.
“Like it? Why don’t you come on back with me, and I’ll show you the other one.”
“Aren’t they both the same?”
“You can compare them, then decide. And then you can make your report to these other gentlemen. In fact, why don’t you all three do that? You can compare notes about my tits, and you can see whether you can put your trust in each other’s technical judgement, for future reference. It’ll be like a research project.”
Uh-oh.
“Research project, eh? OK, I’ll do it.”
So she eventually coaxed several $20s out of us. Each. Separately.
Cheap Bums?!? Nah, just gotta knock on the right doors
