Girls, Girls, Girls

Girls, Girls, Girls

Some 18 years ago I was in the Army serving my country... by doing any drug that came before me.

I was stationed at Fort Hood, Texas, roughly 75 miles from Austin; quite the party town.

Any who, I was going to a local strip club just outside our base called The Doll House. I was just back from a 35 day extended stay in the field for maneuvers (this is when you go to the woods and play war). 

Needless to say I was ready to party. I stepped in to my shower and dropped three hits of Orange Sunshine (LSD), I only really needed one.

Scoring acid was never an easy task; you always had to hook up through some dude you didn't know who took you to this house that looked like everyone was 12 or 14 years old accept the dude who had the shit, he was like 35 or some thing.

Anyway I drop the shit and got all spiffed up for the night.

If you know anything about acid; it takes about 45 to 70 minutes to really start to kick in. So knowing that I needed at least $10.00 for the cab, and a 10 spot for the club cover, I put it in my left pocket as not to confuse myself when I reached the club.

I called for the cab and checked with my buddies that were meeting me there, all was set.

Shortly after I hung up with the cab I moved to the front of the barracks to wait for my carriage. Wouldn't you know it the Capitan and First Sergeant hadn't left for the day?

My Top (that's what we call the First Sergeant) sees me out his office window and decides he wants to engage me in conversation. Now, if you ever tripped before than you know that once it starts to kick and for about (depending on the type and dosage) 14- 24 hours after ,you have a perpetual smile and uncontrollable laughter will ensue; to the point where your jaw and face muscles hurts for the next two days.

Top is a rather large black man and has the humor of a fucking stick. He makes his way to the quad area and calls out "Rager".

"Yeah Top, what can I do for you?"

"What you up to this fine night that god had blessed us with?" Top turn a little religious after we got back from Desert Storm, not overtly, just in passing.

I told him, "Well I just dropped some acid and I plan to get my freak on at on of the local clubs, but not to worry I have a ride squared away"

With this he chuckled and looked in to my eyes, which by now were well on there way to full dilation. If you knew me and the lack of shit I gave, then this statement would not have surprised you.

"Have fun and stay safe Rager".

"Whooa Top".

With this my cab arrived and I did my best to walk a straight line to the vehicle, I climb in and directed the driver to my destination.

I sat quietly trying to hold back the aimless laughter about anything and everything as shortly we arrive at the club. I pay the man with the $10 and proceeded to get out when he asked if I wanted my change.

With this I started a laughing spree that clearly puzzled the hell out of him.

"The change is representative of the fact that I sat in the back of the cab when I clearly could have sat in the front with you. This I feel separates us in to two economically diverse categories, you as the employee and me as your employer, the change symbolizes your job well done in getting me to my destination safe and sound with such vim and vigor. You my friend are my cabby consort".

"What the fuck ever dude, it's $1.25".

I close the door to the cab and make my way to the entry of the club. I open the door and am approached by the bouncer; I call him meat neck because he's all shoulders and head forcing him to turn his whole upper body to see in various directions (he also looks like he has a pack of hot dogs on the back of his neck).

Of course his name is Tiny, because he's 400lbs+ and snores while awake. Tiny was kind of a dick and the only reason people hung out with him was more than likely the gravitational pull of his orbit. None the less he was cool with me.

I paid the cover and walked in; I remember "Let's Get Rocked" by Def Leppard was blaring while multi colored light swarmed the whole club.

I looked at the stage and saw this woman that must have been 30 or older dancing to the tune, the best thing about her was her rather large, yet firm, breasts. I made my way to the bar as the song was ending, the DJ beckoning all men to, "Treat them girls kindly".

I ordered three shots of Jack and a glass of coke then immediately pounded them.

Now acid (good acid) will almost never make you throw up, but you can still take enough of most anything to make you spew no matter how good. This shit I took was primo, no gritting teeth (at first anyway, you almost can't help that after awhile), no nausea; this was going to be a killer night; I was about 2 hours in and about 1 hour from peaksville.

Peaking, for those who don't know, is when you are in the max zone of what ever drug you might be on. It can last any duration of time depending on the drug; good acid can last up to a day in a half or more.

I drank my fill and ordered a big glass of orange juice with vodka just to nurse the rest of the time I was there. Why orange juice? I've just always heard that drinking OJ during your peak prolonged the effects; who knows if it's true but fuck it, it's worth a try right?

I walked as sexy as I could to a table near the stage, making eye contact with any of the ladies in my path; I more than likely look like some dude trippin his balls off  making weird faces at strange woman. I sat down and waited for the next dance to make her way to the stage.

The DJ came on and announced that, Toni would be up next and to remember to treat her kindly.

She stumbles up towards the stage and sets her drink on my table and gives me a little wink, the kind that a drunken uncle gives you just before he does something like attempt to jump the bonfire.

As she walks up the few steps to the stage in her 6 inch fuck me pumps, Welcome to the Jungle by G&R starts blare.

She grabs the brass pole and starts her routine, slowly swinging around as the song gets more intense, "Do you know where you are? You're in the jungle baby, and you're gonna die", Axle melodiously informs all of his tales of L.A.

However, I can't stop clocking this dancer, she was fucking searing. Five-two, 110 lbs., blond, great breasts and obviously liked to take her clothes off. She was defiantly trashed and spent most of the time on the floor of the stage, rolling around and spreading her... you get the picture.

I have a theory about the stripper pole:

It doesn't really do          anything for me to see a woman swing around a pole. I mean I get the          whole phallic nature of a shaft with a naked woman all over it but          if she's naked I don't really care what she's swinging around          on as long as it's not obstructing my view.

         The pole is there to keep          the drunk ass, coked out bitch from falling over.

I've seen some really good dancers work the shit out of a stripper pole, but lets face it I'd rather see her sit in front of me, show her smiling cookies, and pretend to love me. In short I want to see the holes not the poles.

I never sat at the stage,  I'm usually sitting a few tables away; I always felt like a perv if I was all up on the stage cause you should see some of the mother fuckers sitting there. If I liked a dancer I would walk up to the stage and they would do that slow crawl over and flash a little to get a little. Quid pro quo.

Alas, I digress.

A stripper will generally dance for three songs, losing more articles of clothing during each song; this is known as a "Set".

Generally, you can tell from a stripper's choice of songs as to what kind of person she is.  For example if she chooses fast rock songs, she likes the long haired types and will probably wont sleep with you on the first date, unless you have long hair, claim to be in a band and your name has to be either Cody, Tyler, Dillon, Blake, Blaine, Chad, Bret, Kip or Tristan. These rocker chicks are ok they have way too much hair and you could hide for weeks in their bangs. (Watch any 80's rock video and you'll share in my summation).

Then there's the chick that plays all slow, touchy feeling music and wants everyone to know that she is an artist because of her eloquent moves on the pole and about the stage. Listen babe, the person who wrote the song is the artist; you're just dancing naked to it. I love how strippers always say, "I'm a dancer." Bitch you're a stripper, you take your clothes off for money; nobody would come to see "Touchy-McDance- A-Lot" if you weren't taking your clothes. They go to the Ballet for that.

Touchy-McDance-A-Lot will sleep with you, you just have to get through all talking and the "Yeah, I know what you mean, and I feel that way too."  I never had the time or patience to deal with these chicks.

The most common personality you'll encounter is the "Chameleon". This bitch is everything to everyone and is always coked the fuck out. If you have the cash (to tip, not to dip) and the powder, this chick will be on you all night and well into the next morning. The problem is that she has a lot of friends and the word gets out quickly if you're in the club holding anything, especially coke, you'll become a very popular fellow.

I on the other hand had acid, and most strippers don't want acid while they're at work, it's a little to hard to take anything seriously while on LSD. I did have a little coke, but it was just for me and that special someone.

I had dropped acid so many times that I knew how and when it was going to hit me, I wasn't that guy all spaced out going "Wow, dude, look at those lights and shit." The first few times I reacted like that but then I realized that other people (if they're not trippin) just think you're peculiar and move away from you.

By this evening I had learned to ride the trip and even how to control it somewhat.

Visually, dropping acid is not like you might think; you don't see walls melt, shits not on fire (unless you set it on fire) and your brain does not create creatures that chase you. Hallucinations distort or transform shapes and movements, and they may give rise to a perception that time is moving very slowly or that the user's body is changing shape. On some trips, you might experience sensations that are enjoyable and mentally stimulating and that produce a sense of heightened understanding. I always felt like I was the shit while I was on acid; like everything I said and did made me the breeze, fluid; fuck you, I was a god, or at least an Arc Angel.

Again I digress.

Toni was a Chameleon; she was going to be what ever she needed to be to get the job done, and with Toni the job was getting fucked up.

She stripped for one reason only, money for drugs; it just happened to be incidental that she could pay her rent or car note as well. None of that mattered to me I just wanted to get to know her in a deep personal way.

Her set was a mix of rock and grunge. Whilst gyrating around on stage she's making eye contact with me the whole time. I move up to the stage to tip her a few dollars, she crawls towards me looking like she wanted to jump me right there. (They all do that, it's in the manual)

She rubs herself against me and gently moves her lips across the side of my face to my ear and whispers, "Please let me dance for you." I slipped a 10 spot in her garter (cause I'm all about droppin Hamilton's) and told her I'll be over there, motioning to the table I had been.

As I walked back to the table I could feel uncontrollable laughter coming upon me, no rhyme or reason to it, just the acid doing it's thing.

I sit at my table and another stripper, Dusty, comes over and straddles my lap.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"I'm just in a good mood, having a good time." The whole time I'm grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"I want whatever you're on."  I explained to her that I had some acid and she was welcome to partake.

"Do you have any coke?"

"Nope, not my bag" I lied, I did have a few grams but she was not coke worthy, not the love of my night.

"How bout a table dance?" At this time (the early 90's) they called it a table dance not a lap dance, even though it was the same.

I told her no and maybe later. With this she huffed and got off me and moved to the next table.

I was waiting for Toni (by the way strippers never use their real names when working, her real name was Paula) she was hot and I think she may be in to me?

Toni walked off stage and went to the dressing room. I'm sitting there looking at my drink and start thinking about I could woo her and make her mine.

The acid is in full swing and I'm peaking my nuts off; I know my pupils are so dilated you can't tell the color of my eyes. The lights are swirling and getting a little freaky (I did not need to take three of these).

I look at Tiny, the bouncer and he's eating some sort of beef jerky or something, he's just sitting there pulling this meat away from his mouth with a jerk. I think to myself that must be why they call it beef jerky. He's so huge; I think about starting some shit with him just to see if he really could fight or even just catch me? Why do bar owners make really large, fat dudes bouncers. I mean, I understand the theory behind it; big guys can be intimidating and even prevent fights and squabbles with their presence alone. But if you were quick enough you could start some shit and get away. 

I grabbed my drink and went over to the pool tables to shoot some stick while I waited for Toni. There's only one table and this dude is there just playing by himself. I stood there for a few minutes watching tracers of the balls bouncing around the table. (I loved playing pool on acid).

"You feeling alright man?" he asks me, but I could tell he was fucked up, drunk off his ass.

"I'm strait, table open?" I solicit the prospect of a game.

"Let's do it, money breaks (and we all know I'm so money)." He can barely stand, using his cue as a crutch of sorts.

I rack the balls and start to caulk my stick readying my break. I line up the cue ball and lean over to strike; he puts his stick in my face and declares that there's twenty dollars on the game.

"Fuck that dude, I ain't betting shit"! 

All of a sudden he flips out and starts swinging around his cue like he's mastered the art of poolstickery. 

The pool tables are in the back of the bar and all the staff was up front, so it's just me and this douche. He's doing all these moves with the stick; which was kinda cool, what with the trails and tracers flying around and he seemed to know what he was doing.  It feels like this goes on forever and I can't stop laughing and watching this dude. Every time I laugh harder he would jut the stick at my face, but he was standing like 10 feet from me so it just looked crazy.

I notice Toni come out from behind the stage look around for a moment and spot me in the back.

She motions for me to come out to the table; I allow the coercion. I throw the stick on to the table walk away from this fucking nut.

As I approach her I see my friends walk in and motion me over, I grab Toni around the waist and head towards them. They're only here to pick up the acid I had got for them and then go to a party.  I told them that I would decide before they got there whether I go or not.

"Well I guess you're not going with us." Johnson said gawking at Toni.

Johnson was a big, redheaded, corn fed mother fucker from Idaho, Iowa or some shit; wherever the corn side was crisper. I had affectionately dubbed him "Pound Puppy", cause the back of his head would wrinkle up and it looked like the little stuffed dogs.

Cookie was staring right in to my eyes, "Damn Rager, that's gotta be some killer shit, you are fucking gone man".

Cookie's name was really Michael Cook and he was a cook for the Army; he found little irony in this. Not the kind of guy you really wanted to piss off, even if you were his friend, he could be a huge cock, but the kind of guy you want next to you in a brawl.

All I had to do was smile and they both knew they were in for a wild evening.

"What's up fellows; this is Toni", I said (I think, I could have sang it for all I know).

They wanted the Sydney so I went to the restroom with them and did the deal; of course they dropped right there. I had gotten what's known as blotter acid. This is when they put the LSD on small piece of perforated cardboard type paper that breaks down in to smaller pieces called hits. They stayed for one drink and a left. I turned my attention to Toni.

"So you want to dance for me?" I could tell she was fucked up.

"Ok, let's go to the back." She slowly rose to her feet and reached for my hand.

There's something very hot about a woman leading you by the hand toward anything sexual; I think it's because I like a little domination at times.

We go to the other side of the bar, opposite the pool table and she sits me on a chair. She starts dance to a tune I guess she hears in her head cause there isn't music playing; whatever, she's got a slamming body and beautiful face, go on, do your thing girl. She sits backwards on my lap and starts to grind, looking back at me she tells me how cute I am; I think I thanked her.

Toni and I were in two different worlds that night; I was just trying to get them together. She asks me if I wanted to have a few drinks at her place, I, of course, said yes and with that she went to the back and gathered her belongings.

I went to the front to talk to Tiny while I waited. Not only was Tiny the bounce he was also a coke dealer; or he just always happened to have it?

"How's thing's Tiny?"

"Same ole shit, different night." He scratches his crotch and then I think he smelled his fingers, I'm not sure.

I tell him about the guy in the back that was swinging the pool stick around and that I told the guy that he'd better stop or Tiny was gonna come back there. I told him that the guy said, "Fuck that fat mother fucker, I'll kick his ass." With this Tiny looked to the pool table area and got up off his stool (which rarely happens); I just wanted to fuck with Tiny.

I watch as Tiny approaches the guy and the conversation looks heated. Tiny points to the guy and then motions to the exit. All of a sudden the guy starts with the swing of the pool stick, then "Whack", he smacks Tiny right on the side of the face; the pool cue breaks and Tiny goes down on one knee. I start busting out laughing and head towards them. Tiny get's up just as the guy starts to come down with the piece left in his hands. Tiny reaches up and catches it with his left hand and uppercuts the dude with his right nailing him right in the jaw sending him souring back in to the cue rack.

"Damn!" I yelled out. I'm laughing so hard now that my head is starting to hurt.

I stop short of going in to the pool area and put my hand on the wall to brace myself as I try to gain some composure.

This changed my whole concept of fat bouncers. Tiny was up on his feet in what seemed like a second and grabbed the guy around the neck and muscled him out of the bar.

Tiny walked over to me with this look on his face like he was gonna hit me. I notice he had a huge red strip across the left side of his face.

"Damn, you alright?" I asked.

"What the fuck are you laughing at, you think that shits funny?" He wasn't fucking around.

I immediately start playing to his ego as to defuse his anger towards me; I was in no condition to fight. "No, man you fucked him up; I think you broke his jaw. I didn't think you could move that quick Tiny."

I could see him wince from the smile that starts to grow on his face from my praise. I take this as my queue to go and as if like clock work Toni arrives from the back.

We go out to her Jeep and climb inside. With in moments we are at her place, which is a small one bedroom efficiency.

We walk in the door and her dog, a tan pug, starts yapping at jumping all over me. She yells for Cuddles to get down and beckons for him. I remember that it was a very cute little animal and I like small dogs. I start to befriend the lil guy by talking in a baby voice and petting it. This seems to calm Cuddles for the moment.

She locks the door as I sat on the couch then she makes her way over to me. I lean over and start kissing her (I remember she tasted a little like Tequila) this sends Cuddles in to frenzy. He's up on the couch in my face yapping and snipping at me. She yells for him to stop and to get down as she pushes him off of me.

She stands up, takes my hand (there that slight domination again) and leads me to the bed, which was just behind a half wall partition from the living room.

I allow her take me to the bed, where I fully intended to take lead. She lays down on the bed and lay on top of her and start to kiss her neck.

She says wait a minute and squirms out from under me. She goes in to the living room and comes back with her purse. I tell her that I have protection; I don't think she's listening to me. She reaches in to her bag, fishes around and pulls out one of the biggest bags of coke I've ever seen. Moving over to her dresser, she asks if I'd like to partake in some with her, I declined.

She does her thing, comes back over to the bed and assumes her former position under me.

Things get going; I'm not going in to specific details only that, I'm on top of her getting my grove on. When, all of a sudden, I feel this little pressure in the hind quarter, if ya know what I mean. I figure that this girls a freak and is in to that; no big deal, if it's your thing you can circle the airfield all you want, but you can never come in for a landing. This only goes on for a second and it just felt weird; I look down and Cuddles is staring back and me.

I hop off the bed and am trippin out, I grab all my clothes and got dressed. I'm like, I gotta go. I called a cab and wait outside for it to come.

I never saw Toni (or Cuddles) again and I never went back to the Doll House.