almost
to himself
“Yeah, but where is the family? Where
are the bodies?” the CSU tech asked.
It was a rhetorical question. Nobody
in the room had a clue what happened to that family, and probably never would
unless they caught Malcolm and he led them to the bodies.
James was exhausted when he finally
left Fishtown. The last thing he wanted to do was head to the station and toil
over paperwork. He needed to lose himself for a while. He needed a place where
the drinks, the thrills, and the women were cheap and plentiful. The Star Bar
fit two of the criterion, and two out of three ain’t ever bad. He cruised down
Market Street slowly to make sure none of the vice cops he knew were hanging
around. Even though every red-blooded American boy occasionally visited the local
titty bar, he didn’t want his fellow officers to see him out creepin’. He
didn’t want it getting around the department that he was some kind of
degenerate. The bright red, white, and blue neon that surrounded the huge
marquee, featuring names like Misty Towers and Tawny
Peaks, illuminated his car as he drove by the gaudy little strip club. James
turned the corner onto Tenth Street and guided his Intrepid into the alley
behind the club. James briefly wondered if it was
against policy to use an official vehicle to cruise for pussy, but then
he dismissed the thought. After all, he was just going to look at the pussy. It
wasn’t like he was buying a taste. If confronted, he could always say he was
looking for leads or an informant.
The back door was locked so James walked
all the way around to the front of the building, an
inconvenience that almost made him call the whole adventure off. He was still
paranoid about being spotted by another cop, especially those gossipy
hens in Vice. They’d once chased a cop out of town by
letting it be known around the department that he’d been spotted cruising Pine
Street where the transvestite hookers ply their trade. No one had actually
witnessed him propositioning any of them, but the suspicion alone was
enough for his fellow peace officers to make his life hell. They put dildos on
his car seat along with AIDS awareness pamphlets and gay magazines. Finally,
the poor guy had enough and transferred to some New Jersey PD. Apparently that wasn’t far enough because his first
day on the new job, someone taped a huge glossy picture of a penis
clipped from a porno mag on the back of his squad car. The dishonored officer
didn’t even know it until some sweet old lady nearly had a heart attack and
called in to report him for obscenity. He was let go
soon afterward. James didn’t need that kind of drama in his life.
No one that he recognized
from the force was around so he scurried inside. His guilty expression and body language
screamed “perp.” It annoyed him that the wrangler who stood out front, tempting
sex starved perverts like himself with promises of the world’s most exotic
erotic dancers, knew him by name. It annoyed him to think about how much money
he’d wasted in these types of places since the divorce. It annoyed him that the
scandalous hoes that worked there charging twenty dollars a lap dance knew he
was an easy mark.
The moment he walked in, his eyes
zeroed in on an average looking young blonde with a remarkably above average
ass. In fact, it was the most perfect ass he could ever recall seeing. A Prince
song was playing as she dry humped the air. The Purple One wailed out
“Irresistible Bitch” to an infectious driving bass beat and the blonde bent
over and did that little booty shake thing then went into the butterfly. James
loved T&A but he was particularly partial to A. He found himself
irresistibly sprung. James went straight to the ATM machine by the coat check,
withdrew two hundred dollars, and immediately asked the cocktail waitress for a
hundred one-dollar bills. He plopped down in a chair by the stage, still
transfixed by the bounce and wiggle of that most perfect ass.
It annoyed him
to himself
“Yeah, but where is the family? Where
are the bodies?” the CSU tech asked.
It was a rhetorical question. Nobody
in the room had a clue what happened to that family, and probably never would
unless they caught Malcolm and he led them to the bodies.
James was exhausted when he finally
left Fishtown. The last thing he wanted to do was head to the station and toil
over paperwork. He needed to lose himself for a while. He needed a place where
the drinks, the thrills, and the women were cheap and plentiful. The Star Bar
fit two of the criterion, and two out of three ain’t ever bad. He cruised down
Market Street slowly to make sure none of the vice cops he knew were hanging
around. Even though every red-blooded American boy occasionally visited the local
titty bar, he didn’t want his fellow officers to see him out creepin’. He
didn’t want it getting around the department that he was some kind of
degenerate. The bright red, white, and blue neon that surrounded the huge
marquee, featuring names like Misty Towers and Tawny
Peaks, illuminated his car as he drove by the gaudy little strip club. James
turned the corner onto Tenth Street and guided his Intrepid into the alley
behind the club. James briefly wondered if it was
against policy to use an official vehicle to cruise for pussy, but then
he dismissed the thought. After all, he was just going to look at the pussy. It
wasn’t like he was buying a taste. If confronted, he could always say he was
looking for leads or an informant.
The back door was locked so James walked
all the way around to the front of the building, an
inconvenience that almost made him call the whole adventure off. He was still
paranoid about being spotted by another cop, especially those gossipy
hens in Vice. They’d once chased a cop out of town by
letting it be known around the department that he’d been spotted cruising Pine
Street where the transvestite hookers ply their trade. No one had actually
witnessed him propositioning any of them, but the suspicion alone was
enough for his fellow peace officers to make his life hell. They put dildos on
his car seat along with AIDS awareness pamphlets and gay magazines. Finally,
the poor guy had enough and transferred to some New Jersey PD. Apparently that wasn’t far enough because his first
day on the new job, someone taped a huge glossy picture of a penis
clipped from a porno mag on the back of his squad car. The dishonored officer
didn’t even know it until some sweet old lady nearly had a heart attack and
called in to report him for obscenity. He was let go
soon afterward. James didn’t need that kind of drama in his life.
No one that he recognized
from the force was around so he scurried inside. His guilty expression and body language
screamed “perp.” It annoyed him that the wrangler who stood out front, tempting
sex starved perverts like himself with promises of the world’s most exotic
erotic dancers, knew him by name. It annoyed him to think about how much money
he’d wasted in these types of places since the divorce. It annoyed him that the
scandalous hoes that worked there charging twenty dollars a lap dance knew he
was an easy mark.
The moment he walked in, his eyes
zeroed in on an average looking young blonde with a remarkably above average
ass. In fact, it was the most perfect ass he could ever recall seeing. A Prince
song was playing as she dry humped the air. The Purple One wailed out
“Irresistible Bitch” to an infectious driving bass beat and the blonde bent
over and did that little booty shake thing then went into the butterfly. James
loved T&A but he was particularly partial to A. He found himself
irresistibly sprung. James went straight to the ATM machine by the coat check,
withdrew two hundred dollars, and immediately asked the cocktail waitress for a
hundred one-dollar bills. He plopped down in a chair by the stage, still
transfixed by the bounce and wiggle of that most perfect ass.
It annoyed him
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