Marvelous Marvin

I spent the next few days after the trip to the topless bar hanging around the office, taking care of adminstrative issues required to establish my undercover identity. I now had to create mutiple personalities and learn to keep them separate. I would learn to leave "Tony" at the office and return to being "Me" when I got home. Regardless of what exciting "NEW" things I acquired and experienced, GETTING HOME was, and still is, the best part of every day.

I was on my computer navigating through the expense tracking program, learning how to categorize expenses, linking them to evidence and investigations. JR walked in and asked, "You got another shirt with you?" "Naw - do I need one?" I asked, wondering what was wrong with my "Soldier of Fortune" t-shirt. "You have to have a collared shirt on to get into The Orchid. Run home and get one real quick... bring two, you can leave one here." The Orchid was a topless bar, a "Cabaret," as the upscale titty bars preferred to be called. "A rose by any other name..." I hurried home and grabbed a couple of my least favorite Polo shirts. The afternoon with Poison and Goliath had left my shirt smudged with make-up, wreaking of Poison's perfume and the stale odor of beer and cigarette smoke; it was still stuffed behind the driver's seat of my Vette.

JR and I rode in JR's Mustang. We would be joined later by LT and Thunder. The first and only other time I had been to "The Orchid" was for a bachelor party a couple of years ago. I was working this time... and had a better budget to work with.

Clarence, the doorman and limo driver, met us at the door and sent us upstairs to the VIP lounge. "Membership has it's privelages, Precious." JR chuckled, as we walked up the stairs. I was already impressed, and the only thing I could see was JR's big ass on the steps above me. JR and I sat at a table and surveyed the scenery below. We ordered drinks and watched the hardbodies going through their choreographed routines. EVERYTHING in this place was upscale; dancers, waitresses, sound system, lighting, decor... EVERYTHING. Our drinks came, followed by a couple of idle dancers. Each girl sat in her own chair and we began the mundane task of lying to each other... Qualifying who we were and what we "did." "I'm working my way through college" seemed to be the excuse of choice when the dancers explained why they took their clothes off for a living. At least one of the girls was being honest; JR had seen her at one of his son's college baseball games. JR promptly informed me that she was off-limits. Several dancers stopped to visit. Some of them talked only to the girls sitting with us. Some stayed longer than others, some stayed as long as we bought their drinks. ALL of them asked each other the same questions; "Have you seen Marvin?" "Have you called Marvin?" "Is Marvin comin' today?"

"Marvin?" Who the hell is Marvin?

LT and Thunder arrived about an hour later. Our group was growing, tables were moved closer together as more girls arrived and there was always at least one lap dance in progress. I was closely examining "Desire's" perfectly flat stomach as she danced when... "Sorry! I'll be right back!" she said, as she bolted from the table and headed for the stairs. "She gotta go shit?," asked Thunder, in his usual crude, Southern drawl. We were all amazed at Desire' leaving in the middle of a $20 lap dance. Three other dancers left just as quick. "Is there a fire I don't know about?" asked JR, adding, "Thunder, you passing gas again?" Why the mass exodus? I looked to the floor below and spotted our girls flocking around an overweight, long haired, beer bellied, 6 foot - 280 pound SLOB. M-A-R-V-I-N. "So THAT's fuckin' Marvin."

To be continued...