28 July 2004 14:08L

Ok, if you're reading this blog for the first time the story starts in the previous post.

where were we?  Ah yes, after dinner in the West End, I headed toward Deep Ellum which is a neighborhood that in the past had a lot of local color and nightlife.  Being Monday I knew there wasn't much of a chance for crowds but I figured the folks out on Monday in Deep Ellum would know the current Dallas nightlife scene, even if Deep Ellum was no longer the hottest part of town. 

I headed into a indistinct bar and had a beer.  Within a few minutes a couple of skinny girls, just of age came in and sat down at the bar to my left.  When the bartender was done taking care of them I asked about suggestions of where to go during the week during dallas.  There are two kinds of bartenders in the world.  Ones who think they're job is to pour drinks and those who realize they are councilors, tour guides, conceierges, matchmakers, arbitrators, etc and pouring drinks is just how they occupy their hands.  Unfortunately this guy didn't have a clue.  To my right there was a couple probably in their late twenties.  They looked like they worked for a living but they still had first job out of college written all over them.  It takes a while for the light and hope to be beaten out of you by the corporate world after all.  She was a voluptuous blond in a business like red dress and I loved her for her red pointy toed high heel shoes.  He looked like he'd come home and changed into casual clothes before meeting her for a drink.  The impression was that they weren't lovers, rather friends from the same clique or one was dating the other's best friend.  Anyway I needed to gather intelligence on the decadent people in Dallas so I finished my beer and left.  As I was leaving I noticed they were getting up and I held the door for her as they caught up to me.  She answered her cell phone and he was trapped on the sidewalk since she hadn't yet unlocked the car.  Being in Deep Ellum on Monday night, over 30, in a button down shirt and nice pants probably indentified me as a business traveler at least.  I asked him where the young business crowd hung out in Dallas these days.  He had a number of suggestions.  I'm not sure where his Wednesday night margarita special was but I got enough information to filter down to lower Greenville. I knew that I had to head north from downtown to get to where he was talking about and Deep Ellum was definately dead so I headed up 35 to Mockingbird. 

Traveling north on 35 and east on mocking bird brought back memories of familiar ground and a story I'll have to share another time about a beautiful woman with glasses and a pin striped suit.  Mockingbird is flanked by nice homes as you go east.  I rolled through a section of retail areas and found Greeville.  Lower implied south to me so I hung a right and soon found the upper section lower Greenville.  By this time the after work drinkers have cleared out, after all it's still Monday.  I parked and walked a long loop, checking 4 or 5 bars out and unfortunately finding that the folks left were usually already coupled off at tables rather than the bar, single and accessible.  Seemed like an area to hit later in the week or on the weekend so I noted it and went looking for trouble again.

The story I alluded to earlier is set in a strip bar...which I now believe is north on 35.  Mistakenly I headed north on mockingbird.  Well shocker! I started to see signs for a few of Dallas' appoximately 20 strip clubs.  I swing into one and they want $10 for valet parking and $20 to get in.  I decide to pass.  At this point I am still looking to get laid or at least the illusion of getting laid, but much more importantly I'm hot from walking Greeville, and ready to settle in somewhere and drink beer.   Just a little farther north on mockingbird I see another strip bar.  I pull in, park and I am a bit confused.  The corner of the building has an adult book store, back to the Southwest are two rough looking but regular bars.  I decide the strip bar is in the adult bookstore and therefore extra skanky so first let's drink, shall we? 

As I'm walking to the end of the building, away from the bookstore, towards the bar I'm figuring there's a 50/50 chance I'll be stabbed or in a fight with bikers before the evening is out.  This doesn't deter me.  I guess I like exploring the places that I've never been before.  I love traveling to a foreign country and learning about the culture.  Some danger only makes it more thrilling.  This is really the same.  People live their whole lives and never learn anything about the people just on the other side of the tracks because of prejudice, fear or a lack of any sense of adventure.  I decide to put my rolex (fake) in my pocket, no sense in taunting your hosts with a reason to be envious, and push the door open.  The bartender here is surpisingly attractive.  Trashy for sure, but hot none the less.  There's another attractive woman talking to a biker, ah of course I learn, she's the day shift bartender who's stayed on for a few.  Bar chat is an intersting phenomona.  I imagine I look out of place here, a bit overdressed but I mind my own business, and enjoy my beer quietly.   The crowd is big guy, 3 bikers, day shift bartender lady, and old man.  A few minutes later an Indian (dot not feather) guy with some sort of birth defect comes in.  He's friendly and the locals seem to know him.  He easily opens his beer with his deformed hand and sits down.  All seems right with the world to me.  I'm catching a beer buzz, in a place where people seem to accept each other, perhaps because their vision is too blurred to observe their differences or perhaps because they're all outcasts and have no choice but I take a strange pride and privelege in being able to drink with them, feeling no different.  Damm human, damm flawed, but damm sure to give someone the benefit of the doubt when I can. 

Indian guy is a bit too friendly with the bartender but she's kindly patronizing.  I buy another beer and buy her a drink as well.  She picks a shot of Yagermeister.  Hardcore.  I'm imagining a very tired grandma back at the trailer or appartment putting the kids to bed.  Maybe not.  I'm imagining the boyfriend who pushes her to make his truck payment one more time and slaps her, with immediate apology in the same week.  Maybe not.  I'm imagining the body under those jeans...

Another woman comes in.  She's at least 45, a bit overweight but she wears it mostly in her chest.  She has a beautiful face.  Most wouldn't be able to get past the setting, the clothes, the fact she seems to know the bikers, has asked the bartender to spot her for a coke and is lighting a cigarette.  I can see the potential.  She takes up a collection for the juke box promising to play requests for donors and then responds to a biker's challege at pool.  Passing them as I head to the rest room she looks me up and down and says somthing flirtatious. 

I share another drink with the bartender and decide 2 am is too high a price to pay for a chance at her.  It's still a reasonable hour and I might cut my losses by paying to see some tits then heading back to the hotel.  It is Monday afterall (and passing 11pm)

I head over to what I thought was the strip bar...curious it's just an adult bookstore.  Since I'm here I buy the $5 minimum of tokens and find a booth that doesn't have any holes in the wall.  I find a movie where the woman is either enjoying it or fairly convincing.  There's no greater turn off than a woman being exploited and obviously displeased about it.  Self denial must be my thing these days...I make the $5 last and enjoy short of completely getting off.  Let it go down and head back out.

As I walk back out I see traffic roll alonside the building.  Now I realize that the strip bar entrance is around the side.  This discovery somehow justifies going in..since I discovered it, it would be a shame to never know what it looks like inside goes my logic.   I head inside and find it far from crowded.  Most of the guys are sitting at the periphery, several with girls on their laps or next to them.  I saddle up right in front of the stage.  Shortly I have a beer and am watching a lithe blonde working hard on stage.  She seems to be into it.