by Camille Dixon
Publication Date: March 26th 2013
I looked back at Erik,who seemed totally clueless. Glancing at my watch for the umpteenth time, Ipolished off my Jack-and-Coke, nearly gagging at the watered-down coke, andstarted to get up. “I’m going to find a restroom.”
“Wait!” Erik frantically motioned for me to sit. “You haven’t seenthe best part.”
“Oh, I think I have,” I grumbled, pushing up out of my seat anywaywhen the music abruptly died and the lights dimmed to barely nothing. Cursing,I hesitated, unable to see much until my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness.A smoky blue light was growing beneath the curtain, at the center of the stage,illuminating the silhouette of yet another girl. Tired of the same old shit, Iwas about to turn my back in search of a bathroom when the first strands of aclassic jazz tune came through the speakers, a welcome contrast to the mindlessdrone of the past half hour that left my ears ringing.
As the vocals began, the light intensified, revealing a woman withnaturally colored skin and long curling hair that looked like fire. The darkauburn hue was brought out by the complimentary green of the stage lights -probably on purpose, I noted to my inner artist’s satisfaction - and when thegirl turned to look at the audience, I froze where I was, halfway risen from myseat.
Where was all the overdone makeup? She had cosmetics on, but itwas natural-looking, enhancing her features and her fiery beauty rather thandetracting from it. She was elegant and beautiful, in an old Hollywood pinupgirl kind of way, just like Marilyn Monroe. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Ididn’t want to.
Erik grinned as I plopped back down in my seat, a little stunned.“Worth the wait, huh?” Erik yelled.
“Who is she?”
“They always save her for last. She’s a house favorite. Her stagename is Angel."
Angel. It sounded too sweet for the sultrygoddess lighting up the whole stage - hell, the whole room - with her sensualmoves that while conservative, seemed twice as erotic as what the girls who hadcome before her had done. They were smoother, like what you’d see when watchinga trained dancer, like a ballerina or a ballroom dancer. I’d expected a namelike Venus or Hera or something worthy of this goddess’s undeniable power overmen.