I went to the River Market for lunch. I sat next to a couple of construction workers who were eating there. The conversation that bled over to me concerned the retaliative merits (I use that phrase a lot. I know. I'm a lawyer. I can't help it.) of a couple of the local strip joints.
" I went to Visions the other night."
" What you think?"
" It was alright. Had to kind of work at it to get a look at some titties. "
" Yeah. I'm from New York. It's a lot easier there. Here, I mean..Jesus...."
" Had to buy a damn drink. Had to pay the damn cover charge. Had to pay the only good looking one to pay attention to me."
"How's your lunch?"
" Spaghetti fills you up in a hurry.'
" Yeah it's good."
" So...you been to Peaches out over by..."
" The Air Base? Yeah. Once. And it was OK."
" Just OK?"
" Well...there was a girl up there that couldn't have been much older than my sister."
" Well, some of 'em look pretty young."
" No. She couldn't have been over 17."
" I mean, c'mooooonnnnnn. It's a titty bar. These girls...it's a job. You got to play the game. Some of 'em look young b/c all of them are on crack or something. I mean get real."
" My sister?"
"I ever see her up there I'll kill her."
" Yep. I'll be goddamned if my sister is gonna do that shit."
I cannot make this shit up.