Yacht Club Party

My party on Friday was an 80th birthday party, which took place at a yacht club. Over 50 people were there, a mixed-gender crowd. The party requested the usual cop uniform.

I basically had to strip for an 80-year-old lady, who had a really great time. She knew swing dance very well, so I danced with her... wearing only my boots and a thong.

I danced with a few other ladies as well. Most were in their forties and fifties, but two girls around thirty approached me and talked with me. I'll refer to them as Miss A and Miss E.

Miss A was a petite redhead, with a shy nature. Miss E was strong-spirited brunette with piercing blue eyes. Both enjoyed talking with me and both danced with me at the end, after I put my clothes back on.

Miss E told me that I was classy. She obviously came to that conclusion very early, but she was referring to how modest I was for a male stripper. "I always thought that male strippers would be full of themselves," she said. "But you are very friendly and down to earth."

Miss A stood next to her, listening to our conversation without saying much. She occasionally smiled and nodded though.

Around 9 p.m., I told Miss A and Miss E that I had to leave because of another party. Really, I was supposed to party with Caroline and Claire (which I've already written about two entries ago).

Miss A and Miss E walked me to my car. We discussed many things along the way, including politics. Miss E's eyes lit up once we brooched the subject of politics. She apparently had a lot to say. We talked for about ten more minutes.

"Just curious, how do you feel about guns," she asked me.

In response, I handed Miss E my utility belt from my police uniform. "Check the holster," I said.

"Oh my God, you have a real gun on this?" Miss E said with a smile. She pulled the gun out of the holster. "Ah nice... A Ruger. What else do you have?"

"I have a .38 Special in the car," I said.

"I used to have a .38, but I gave it to Miss A here. I use a .45 as my conceal carry now."

"Well, we should go to a gun range sometime then," I said.

Miss A and Miss E both smiled and agreed to this.

Miss A broke her silence with a mischevious grin. "Let's get your number then. We can go to the range, and hire you as a male dancer."

I exchanged phone numbers and e-mail contacts. I offered to go out with both of them, which would seem like a lot of fun.

I e-mailed them yesterday and they both responded. No plans yet, but we'll see. The future is uncertain.

One thing is certain though: I'm not going to piss off Miss E or Miss A any time soon.