I suppose it is best to arrive a little before 0200 in Florida because that's about the time the strip clubs close and you get to put your breakfast order in before the 0200 mad rush. It's sometimes different in other states but you get the idea.
At about 0200 the guys start wandering in, seven eighths bombed out of their minds which is what one does in a strip club. One drinks heavily.
Shortly afterwards about half of the strippers from the club wander in. They left a bit later because they generally get an after work drink or six before they leave. It's supposed to be one but whoever's turn it is generally distracts the bartender with certain oral pleasures in the men's room and he leaves the bar untended.
That's when the strippers help themselves and plunder the bar. They generally pour about 8 ounces of raw alcohol down their throats. Then about half of them wander into the Waffle House. The other half, the one's that want to go home alone and get a decent night's sleep wander over to the Denny's a half mile away.
The girls that go home after a Denny's breakfast are generally the girls that made good money in tips because they are hot. The dogs head over to the Waffle House*.
The strippers heading into the nearby Waffle House nearby are generally looking for a little supplemental cash by engaging in the oldest profession.
The strippers tend to look a lot different in the lights of the restaurant because the lights in the club are carefully chosen to hide a multitude of imperfections. Bruises and needle marks dissappear only to reappear under the normal lighting of a business.
They still smell like cheap perfume and you can see the glitter and the Official Stripper Earl Schieb Spray On Makeup. It was like that when I briefly worked in a strip club and I'm sure it hasn't changed much. The girls clothing generally ranges from jeans and a T-shirt to an occasional little tight dress that looks like they were melted down and poured into it, but mostly jeans or somethng comfortable. The one in the tight dress is usually the one with her eye on the buck and knows the drill. It's worth it to her to dress the part because someone will pay extra for that.
Business is generally conducted over breakfast and as they finish couples amble off to their nests to consumate their relationship.
Occasionally a couple of guys bicker over the Queen of the Silver Dollar and while it rarely goes on to fisticuffs, it does happen every once in a while.When things turn into combat it's more often than not a two hit tiff. One guy hits the other and the other hits the ground. I have seen knives come out before once or twice back in the day.
Sometimes you see two or three people wander outside only to return a minute or so later. It likely means drugs and money have changed hands.
It should be carefully noted that no money changes hands here. It's too public and everyone is a little afraid of vice cops.
As the strippers leave thay are generally replaced by the B-Team, local hookers looking to pick through the leftovers. These are generally are the drug cripples looking to turn a trick to get their next fix. Many of them are washed up strippers and they are pretty ragged. The road downhill is pretty fast and hard. Generally when hard drugs kick in it takes about a year, sometimes more, sometimes less.
I once was offered a Bravo Juliet by a hot stripper that approached me at the train station in Bridgeport, CT **that was just beginning the downfall. She wanted a ride to work in exchange for her oral favors. She was still pretty hot and I knew that in about a year or so she'd be on the skids looking like hamburger. Needless to say, I refused. Still, I said to myeslf with a sarcastic mental note to self, ' That's the time to get 'em when the first hit the downhill slide!'.
I felt bad for her. She was a real looker at the time but I knew that her good looks were fading real fast.
Oh, yeah, where were we?
Anyway the B team comes in looking for the leftovers and the pickin's are pretty slim, really. They make their deals and wander off. The remaining guys wander off full of breakfast and home to a little self stimulation. Little do they realize at the time that they are really the lucky ones.
By about 0400 there are generally about one or two guys passed out with their faces in their plates of fried eggs and maybe three or four speed freaks sitting there swilling coffee and vibrating like a paint shaker.
The show's over. Time to leave.
Over tip the waitress. She sure earned it.
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Actually I'm picking on Waffle House here but I really like the place. Generally speaking they are a pretty good place for breakfast, especially the ones in the South.
In the word of the old 'Welcome back, Kotter' TV show, "We like him a lot and we put him on the spot..."
I just wish there was one closer to me.
*Or reasonable facsimile thereof. We're talking 24/7 places that serve breakfast 24/7. Waffle House seems to have a number of pretty good videos on Youtube of late night antics.
** Another story about being stuck in the Bridgport, CT train station where in about 3-4 hours I was offered 4 Bravo Juliets, 2 kid sisters, one small boy, some hot merchandise and had my pocket picket three times.
One of youse guys remind me to write that sometime.
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