Vox Populi

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.'

" Good?"

" 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?"

" Yeah?"

"I ever see her up there I'll kill her."

" Really?"

" Yep. I'll be goddamned if my sister is gonna do that shit."

I cannot make this shit up.