So there we were, heading towards the freeway in order to get to a semi-local all-night eatery. The entire family is there. Brother Todd sitting in the driver’s seat with Mom riding shot gun. Brother Eric lounges behind Todd while I slouch behind Mom, glaring at Todd for taking MY RIGHTFUL PLACE AS DRIVER! THE RAT! Between Eric and myself is Dad, two days fresh from yet another stint put in him. With myself as a possible exception (THE STEERING WHEEL IS MY DOMAIN!) we are all in good spirits. Having family together does that.
We’ve almost hit the penultimate set of stop lights between us and high speeds when Mom says the following: “Big Earl’s is still open.”
Big Earl’s Goldmine is our neighborhood strip club. Which is only slightly correct, as strip clubs tend to open in this particular part of the city. Along with pawn shops. Though I’m fairly sure the two aren’t connected. Maybe.
We have to pass the place every time we go to the freeway. And pass it is all I do.
Sneer all you want, but it’s true. I don’t enter Big Earl’s, or any of the other strip clubs for that matter. I live by a simple principle.
This principle is that strip clubs want paying customers and I have no money to pay with.
So sad. Little tears for Cullen!
(On all of this is that I have access to the Internet. You Google once without Safe Search on and you find things that you never dream of. Terrible things…)
Possibly falsely painting myself as a bit more of a voyeur than I’d might like people to think of me aside (bet you thought you’d never get back to the point, huh?), while I have never been, I do have some knowledge of the place. “It’s open til three. I think.”
Todd pipes in, “Oh yeah. It’s open late.”
Now you can tell the difference between my baby brother and myself by the following. Mom’s next question is directed at him and not me, “You ever been there?”
The reply is almost instantaneous. “No, I’ve never been to Big Earl’s.”
Eric, human shark that he is, smells blood in the water. He leans forward and brings another strip club into the discussion. “You ever been to the Lumberyard?”
A pause. Then, “No, I’ve never been to Big Earl’s.”
Well played, little brother. Well played. No one suspects a thing…