At the Club

Happy’s Bar was located in a former industrial area that had recently become the hot spot for loft apartments, art galleries, boutique shops, and the young and trendy. But since the area wasn’t completely gentrified, there was usually a mix of people; from construction worker’s to office clerks to hookers, to the nouveau rich.

Happy’s wasn’t the fanciest place in the area; there were some “high end” spots, with like $20 covers charges, just down the street. Happy’s was more like an up-scale, neighborhood bar, except huge. As a former bank building, the inside was cavernous. The teller counter along one wall was now a stand up bar, there were a few tables, designed to be reminiscent of the convenience counters of the old bank, with sleek, backless bar stools. A huge mirrored dance floor dominated the center of the room, and was surrounded by deep sofas and a few big, old style arm chairs. It looked very much like a gentleman’s club of the 20’s. It was all set-up for easy viewing of the show, which was the dance floor. In fact, there as a mezzanine level balcony that circled the entire dance floor. Up here were plush, 40’s styled circular booths with an imitation gas-light on the wall. Other than that, there was only theater lighting along the floor, and under the floor to ceiling glass wall along the balconies edge. The lights under the glass wall gave the entire upstairs area sort of a florescent blue-green glow.

As we stepped into the club, Christy immediately started to attract attention. Besides the sexy, revealing outfit she had on, I knew Christy’s pheromones were screaming “ready to fuck” to everyone within 20 feet. We made our way to the bar, ordered a couple of drinks turned around to watch the crowd.

And what a crowd it was. Because it wasn’t late yet, the office types hadn’t retreated for the evening, and the hardcore, late-night party crowd was just drifting in. Older guys in business suits rubbed shoulders with B-Boys from the hood, checking out everything from office secretaries to fly-girls. And Christy was attracting a lot of attention from all of ‘em.

I decided that leaving Christy at the bar for a few minutes would make things interesting, so I excused myself to the restroom. By the time I’d taken about 5 steps, I looked back just in time to see some guy pulling Christy to the dance floor. As I watched her shake her stuff, he skimpy little outfit left little to the imagination. These “wardrobe malfunctions” were giving onlookers quite a show.

I was enjoying watching guys (and some girls) lust after my girlfriend. “Damn! She’s hot!” I heard a guy say. I looked around and saw these 2 Black guys watching the Christy show. “Yeah, she is!” his buddy agreed.