Wed Jan 17th
Finally we make it back to Cocoa Beach Florida and have our workshop. This group is an interesting group. There is a retired railroad worker from New York who retired to Florida 20 something years ago. He is living well of his Railroad Pension, one of the few pension systems still giving back for years of sweat and labor. There is a retired Hells Angel, a cigar lover who is starting a cigar store and doesn't really know anyting about cigars. There is woman who wants to sell coffee tables that are sculpted dolphins and horses, and a German father son, who bring their dog, Daisy with them. Daisy wants to start a business focusing on the needs of dogs smaller than rats.
When the day ends Mykul and I decide to walk. One thing about this job, is that the rest of the team doesn't drink, and wont let us use the rental car so we walk each city while they watch cable tv. Walking is a great way to get to know the less obvious parts of a city, the smell, the feel, the way living rooms look through open windows. Again both of us are very aware of the smell. The winter in SLC pushes scent down, holds it in a headlock of snow and ice. Winter smells mechanical.
We are looking for the strip clubs we saw when we first drove through. Strip clubs are not our first choice of entertainment, but in most smaller towns , they are open the latest. We walk about two miles and are not finding them. I look down an alley and see an adult book store. Across from the bookstore is an electrical substation and we stop and are quiet for a moment and just listen to the crackle.
The bookstore seems out of place, the complex is nestled in what appears to be more appropriate for a dentist office . The bookstore is extremely lit, much brighter than any adult bookstore should be. Behind the counter is a very large black women, it looks like she hasn't stood in weeks. Talking to her is a skinny, meth-head looking man, his thin mustache looks more like any eyebrow thats fallen down to his lip. We ask them where are the gentlemen's clubs. He tells us to go to the Lido, and not to go to Cheaters, because the Lido has better looking women. So we continue walking.
We finally make it to The Lido in Cape Canavaral, about 4 miles from the hotel. A typical club. The women were ordinary and there were only really three attractive women and only one was a stripper.
We watch from a distance, observers more than participants. I say to Mykul that I would be affraid of Cheaters if these were much hotter women.
Pixie, an attractive blonde with an attractive face siddles up next to me. Her name is perfect, her voice is high and anoying. She has just got off the stage and is chumming for a few extra bucks.
" So where are you from?"
" Salt Lake City, I am a traveling salesman."
" How about that, I am the welcoming committee for Salt Lake City Boys"
"Well what does that entail"
" I give you a lap dance for 15 dollars."
" What's a lap dance."
" Its where I sit on your lap and rub all over you for the lenght of a song"
" really, can I choose the song, like "Bye, bye Miss American Pie" 12 minute version?"
" I have never heard of that one,"
" I don't thinks so hun, I'm just observing, I am a writer, I observe alot."
" A writer needs a lap dance, you can write, 'her nipple was so close to his mouth.'"
" I'm OK.
Pixie left and another woman came to Mykul and I and asked if we wanted a lap dance. The owner of the club knows his sales process. There was a lot of suggestive selling going on. We finally decide to leave. The drinks were over priced at the club so we stopped at the CVS pharmacy and bought two bottles of wine. We decided to walk the four miles back to the hotel along the beach. A wind had picked up in the north and it had started raining. The beach was completely abandoned. We walked drinking wine talking about life and art and the things we wanted. The ocean was freakishly warm. Mykul stood looking out at the ocean and was text messaging a girl he has been spending time with making her jealous, as I tried not to think of the woman who left me behind.
The light on the water and the shore was incandescent. I wrote the following lines,
The sea rushes the shore sending
love letters
from all those
who died at sea
And moonlight shadows
of sandpipers, read
them with their long beaks.
We walked for miles getting drunk on the ocean and the bottles of wine. The ocean is better than any strip club.
When we finished the last bottle we put in 5 dollars, corked it and threw it into the ocean.
We owed a debt to the sea.
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