He kept staring at me, his eyes looked like blackened cranberries with a mental poverty swagger and no signs of digging himself out of whatever hole he put himself in. His situation was grim and here I am at the strip club trying to look at p*ssy.
I found one, just not the kind I was looking for. I had to check all my pockets to keep an audit of what I had on me. Besides if I got got at the end of the night, I need to know the dollar amount of how much anger I need to muster up.
I looked back, his eyes never shifted and neither did my demeanor. I was a rattlesnack and he didnt realized that we were on the same side of this glass cage. The more I thought about it, the more I was enraged and ultimately what could I do.
The only respectable thing for the place I was in and that was to pay to look at some more p*ssy.