Monday, September 19, 2005

Attack Of The 7 Inch Meat

South Beach Dance Club at 11:08pm on a Saturday night, right in the heart of Montrose, the city’s premiere hangout was the gayest place in town. At the entrance, a painstakingly slow age verification and payment process ensured eager patrons were kept slowly trickling in, so that a resulting long line that extended around the building quickly reinforced the popularity the place.

Two professional Latino dancers, beautifully structured, and clad only in a scanty velvety pink g-strings, were slowly swaying their bodies to the music. Notes of 5s, 10s even 20s, a contribution from admirers, were folded nicely against the spaghetti-thin straps. It definitely pays to be sexy. Got quickly chauffeured deeper in before I could drool any further.

Half naked servers scurried around serving up drinks for patrons who had thirst themselves silly shouting at their top of their voice amidst the loud thumping music, but the pool was where the heartbeat of the club lied. Managed to squeeze into a tasty mix of Caucasians, Latinos, Blacks, Asians, and everything in between as we started to bring our engines up to the beat.

In the midst of a Kylie's item, two half naked Latino muscle uncles started inching closer, and before I could say ‘Hola’, found myself sandwiched in an awkward position between the two very warm, swaying and sweaty bodies. The one behind me breathed down my neck, and I felt a pinch on my right bum. Turned around and got my left bum squeezed! CJ watched amusedly as the Latino Attack continued, I was lucky I did not get stripped, he told me later.

Closed my eyes as the next tune moved in. More attacks came and went, but the sights and sounds were too much to bear, and I thought I sunk deeper into the dream.

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