Kelli keeps her from her "John."

Kelly is about to step into the idling Cadillac when the peepshow worker returns from searching her purse.

"Your friend's right, Kelly," the black-clad blonde says to her, wrapping her arm around your waist and giving you a squeeze of support with the long fingers of her left hand. "Don't get in the car with the old perv. I'll take you guys home!" Kelli informs the both of you, jangling a large set of keys with even larger fobs attached.

You both watch Kelly glance to the expectant face of the old man, then to the wad of bills in his hand, and finally back to the both of you.

"Okay," she utters with a sigh of relief, walking back over to the two of you.

"Son of a..." you hear the old man deep in the seat of the aging luxury vehicle exclaim as he watches the barely concealed ass of your childhood friend wriggle from his grasp. "Bitch!" he roars. "Fuck you!" he adds, red-faced, waving the middle finger of his right hand at her departing form as he guns the V8 of the Cadillac.

You are barely missed by the wave of water that splashes up over the street curb as the angered gent peels out of his parking space.

The three of you are huddled together again on the seedy downtown district's sidewalk.

"Okay," Kelli begins. "I couldn't find any tip money. . Manny's probably gonna withhold any now.. but, I'm parked right around the corner, why don't I just take you two home myself? I feel kinda responsible for all this anyhow."

You want to argue the point, put Kelli at ease, but after the night you and your friend have had, you just quietly agree, nodding in Kelli's direction. Your own arm now slides around Kelly's waist to comfort her after this trying night, your hand finding the minidress' cutout, the fingers feeling the bare skin's warmth.

The three of you begin walking together, Kelli taking the lead. The once bustling city is eerily quiet. Only the sound of the streetwashing truck's wooshing water in the distance and the sound of the sanitation workers beginning their rounds could be heard.

As you round the corner of the block, Kelli tries to apologize in advance for the condition of her vehicle.

"I was in a hurry, running late for my shift. . I managed to find a space up here. . the car is a real beater, but it goes!" Kelli states, pointing just ahead. The three of you determinedly walk in that direction.

You watch as Kelli stops and looks around, perplexed.

"What's wrong, Kelli?" asks your friend, rubbing her bare shoulder.

"I was sure I parked it here, near the opening to this alleyway," she answers, ruffling her long blonde hair through one hand in frustration.

"You mean near this sign post?" you ask, pointing to the placard above your heads.

NO PARKING -- TOW AWAY ZONE reads the white-backed message in bright red.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" curses the blonde stripper after she spies the sign for the first time, hitting the metal post, making the sign wobble, the noise reverberating in the early morning hour quiet.

After she calms, Kelli straightens her blouse sleeves, composing herself.

"Well, I guess I have a trip to the impound lot in store for me later today!" she manages to smile, though you can tell she is disgusted with herself. "But there still is the matter of getting you guys home!" The stripper looks around, then spies something and smiles.