Both women worked in strip clubs.  In the Saint Louis Metro East. The first, had two of her children living with her.  After she told her boyfriend she was finished with him he came to the door of her house and tried to come in.  She was lucky.  Because she was able to spray him in the face with the pepper spray I had given her several days earlier.  A few days later he murdered his best friend by stabbing him in the face with a screw driver. 

The second girl was not so lucky.  She had a husband who was a good man.  He was handsome.  And had a good job with  a bank. I liked him, but one night she called me up. And asked  me to come get her.  I drove my pickup 120 miles to get her.  She had boxes of her belongings in her yard. And as I loaded them up in my pickup truck I told Greg.  "I don't know what she's thinking Greg.  I'm sorry about all this."

She stayed with me several weeks before I asked Sahara to take her in.  A few months passed.  Greg tried to get her to come back to him.  But she moved out of Sahara's apartment and rented one two doors away.  Then she moved a 19 year old guy in with her who had been living with his father upstairs. 

I had been hanging out with several dancer friends of mine back then in the little town of New Athens, Illinois when Selena asked me to drive her to work at the Visions strip club.  I had the top down on my Mazda Miata sports car.  It was a bright sunny day.  That day, when she told me she would kick the lazy boy out of her apartment.  WHo had no job and nowhere to go other than his father's apartment upstairs. 

That night I took Sahara out to a great restaurant in Ladue that is no longer there.  We ate sea food outdoors at Busches Grove.  Sahara was no longer living in her apartment in New Athens then.  I took her back to her mother's apartment in University City that night.  But when her mother greeted us at the door, her mother told us "Selena was stabbed to death just one hour agto." 

So I hate pimps. So much so that I designed a special t-shirt reading on its back----"Pimp---the pond scum that lives off his girl friend. Had four dancers wearing those Pimp t shirts on stage as billboards to many of the other girls, advertising what their boyfriends are really like--- not men at all but "pond scum", filthy clinging, barely living plant like growths that once it clings to a person is hard to get off. Being the perfectionist that I am, the imagery of the "Pimp" or slimy Pond Scum didn't quite go far enough since it got women off the hook. Both the male and the female members of the Lost Angels discussed this problem and came up with the perfect solution. Leeches.  Leeches come in both sexes which is good since now "deserving women" can claim to be blood suckers too. But it gets even better since groups, corporations, partnerships, churches and all kinds of organizations can now claim membership into Leech Dom. Now that we have established who and what can join the kingdom of Leech Dom let's move on and establish  1. What is a leech, 2. Why the Lost Angels group decided we should give a leech of the year award, 3. Why we decided upon the parasite we did for this award, and 4. What does this all have to do with my getting barred from Dollies?

Worms that have suckers close to their tiny jaws that live near and in both fresh and salt water which prey on mammals and fish, leeches are parasites that live off the blood of their victims which often are totally unaware that a leech has attached itself to their bodies or wormed its way into the nasal passages of a large mammal that drinks leech infested water. Then there is the human or organizational form of leech which lives off the lifeblood of its prey-------bloated, corpulent and full of blood just like its worm like counterpart. Incapable of feeling or compassion or giving to another human being, one finds these leeches relentlessly searching for money,  power or sex, consumed in self-absorption as it uses its victims, then once it has sucked them dry, throws them away before moving onto  new hosts to attach themselves to. The worse part about it is a leech is hard to get rid of. The insect attaches itself to your skin, then flattens its body against your tissue. Best way to get it off is to pull out a lighter and burn the sucker off. As it dies the sucker will stop pulling at you until the worm just drops off. The human or organizational kind of leech sneaks up on its victim just like its insect brethren but once it attaches itself to its prey, the prey either won't notice it's there or refuse to get rid of it. But one word of warning here. If you ever find this form of leech on a person--- its victim would just as soon as kill you as the leech, especially if you try to hurt the leech.
 

We've been having our Lost Angels annual awards nominations and election. Alex and I receive several e-mails from Lost Angels members announcing their choices. Then-on Easter Sunday I head out to Alex and Mikeys. Arriving at 3 PM I find Alex already online with her computer. There is no question that Alex has already won the Lost Angels Dancer of the year award hands down. We then continue voting for the other categories which include "Last year's most promising dancer", best dancer (based on raw dancing ability), Best female bullshitter and worse female bullshitter, most photogenic dancer, and the Leech of the year.
 

The Leech of the year award is no contest. The prize is going to go to Rocci, April's boyfriend. Unanimous decision since there is nothing more grotesque that the thought of a young, pretty girl like April dancing pregnant on the stage to pay the bills while her boyfriend loafs around. What it comes down to is this----------if you are born with a dick, and you find yourself with a pretty girl like this, especially one who has such an engaging personality and sense of humor as an April and who doesn't have any kids to start out with, you had better be planning on paying for at least half the girl's support and any children the two of you come up with.

If instead you use her and put up with her being on that stage over seven months into her pregnancy while you benefit financially from the situation, you never deserved to be born with that dick in the first place. Because it means you don't love her.   She's drinking in the club, endangering not only herself but the unborn child as well. And the stage is a dangerous place--- my getting a stress fracture on the back stage dancing and doing the pole with the bartender is proof of that. Or another Dollies dancer being thrown off the stage by a much bigger girl, resulting in a scraped up back, still another example. Or that time Nipples did a header off the stage when a drunken customer suddenly pulled back and I saw her the next day at work, her face looking like she had gone through a car's windshield .
 

Dancers are generally a volatile, fun loving, hard drinking bunch, which is one of the reasons I like them. Put a pregnant woman in this company, and you are talking extreme risk. Seen lots of cat fights among dancers. And what about the effects of drinking on the unborn fetuses health? Good chance for permanent brain damage or other defects to the baby that will handicap it for the rest of its life. And who's going to pay for the handicapped child through aid payments to the family? You and me.  The tax payers.

Two girls from the dancing profession who I correspond with on a regular basis have recently become pregnant. One of the girls retired at 23 as a dancer, marrying a man who has the ability to support her and the rest of the family.  She loves to drink as much as I do, but quit as soon as she found out she was pregnant. The other girl and her boyfriend saved up enough money to make the down payment on a small house. The couple decided to defer buying the house until she had the baby. She's no longer working in a club, telling me, "Customers can get rough and I don't want them getting rough with my body while I'm pregnant. I'll return to dancing after I have my child."
 

Obviously our Leech of the Year does not respect or love his girlfriend because if he did he would do everything possible to keep her off that stage even if it meant his working three jobs to pay the bills. There's a great chance that his child will be on the public dole because of the hazards  the work place imposes on his girl friend especially the temptation to drink and drug. And as a Father to the unborn child he owes it to the new life that he has helped create to give it every reasonable chance to become a happy and productive member of society. Obviously he hasn't. He's out for himself.  Selfish bastard.

Three dancers or ex dancers vote Rocci to be Leach of the Year. A woman who works for a nursing home agrees. Men from all walks of life-other writers, a PHD, a couple of farmers, and a lawyer vote him in. One of the Canadians in the group calls for him to be hung upside down from a tree and castrated, knowing full well this is against the law both in the U.S. and Canada.   Nonetheless such sentiment shows how strong feelings are running on this issue.

In all there are about 27 awards categories, eight of them to be represented by trophies to the winners. One of the Dollies dancers has done a great job getting eight trophies made up at very low cost. There is a large trophy, around two and a half feet tall for the Dancer of the Year. That one goes to Alex. Smaller trophies are to be handed out or sent  to the other winners, these trophies being for "Best Bartender", the "Studmuffin of the year", "Lost Angels most photogenic girl", "Lost Angels most promising dancer of 1998", "Most unreliable male of 1998", "Most unreliable female of 1998", and "Leech of the Year".

Some of the awards are little gold plated bowls mounted on stands.  Dina who has won "Best Bartender" will get one of these for her tips that she collects behind the bar. I have also made up certificates of accomplishment that are to go with the trophies. Several nights before we are to have our Awards ceremony 

I go into Dollies and take the girl who's getting the awards done in the back room to discuss the trophies.  We cover a lot of ground in a short time. I ask her about the Leech of the Year award:

 "Does he really deserve it?"

The girl replies-----"Deserve it? Why hell yes he does!

"You give or we give this award to him and April's going to hate all of us, including you," I tell her.

"Don't be so sure of that, Jack".

"What do you mean?" I answer, stunned that April would actually welcome our giving her boyfriend the Leech of the Year Award.

"You know what I mean?"

"Is it because he's not working while she's dancing pregnant?"

"That and something else too. They haven't even been speaking for two days."

"What's that other thing?" I asked.

"He promised her to do something and he didn't do it."

All very well and good. The happy couple not speaking.  I knew that would change and as for April welcoming our giving her guy the Leech of the Year Award I knew better, knowing that nine times out of ten such women will stick up for these ass holes. I had known women who are routinely beat up by their men who will turn on the man who beats up on their abuser.  Once a husband who was beating up his wife came into Dollies to force her to leave with him from the club. As soon as he called, the dancer came and sat down with me as white as a sheet, obviously terrified. A few minutes later he came into the club and got in it with the manager. The man ended up on the floor while another club employee and I started dragging him across the floor toward the door. Suddenly I felt the woman's hands on my back as she ripped my shirt to shreds.

Which brings us to Saturday night. Being a strong advocate of Murphy's Law----that is, "If something can go wrong it will go wrong", I had a backup to our plan just in case something happened to the trophies. I had not seen them yet since they would not be ready until that afternoon. The Dollies dancer came through on the awards bringing them into the club and showing them to me in the backroom.

April showed up late as usual. Before she was pregnant she was almost always on time calling in if she was running late or had to miss her shift. But since becoming pregnant she had been coming in pretty much when she felt like it, almost always late, usually an hour after her shift started.  She had also been leaving an hour or two early.

I was sitting at my little table close to the stage where we used my laptop to go online.  Alex and Howard soon joined me and not long after that the girl who had gotten the awards sat down with us. "I've talked to April about the awards in the dressing room, " the girl told us. "She knows her boyfriends getting the Leech of the Year Award when he comes in and gets her. "

"She knows?" I asked horrified. "What did she say?"

"Good. He deserves it," she told me. "His ass is mine tonight. I'm going to roast him so bad he'll never get over it. And I don't care if the club bars me for a month. He's going to get what's coming to him."

Then a good friend of mine came in the door with his girlfriend and sat down with our group. The girl who had gotten the awards together had put them in a box behind the bar for safekeeping. When Alex came off the stage the girl went over to where April was sitting with a couple customers and brought her to the table.

The girl then stood up, made a speech, then handed April her trophy as the most promising dancer of 1998. I reached into a file folder and produced April's certificate that I had run off on a word processor, and gave it to her. The girl then announced Alex as our Dancer of the Year and gave Alex her trophy.  Alex commented that she didn't see how she deserved it but we all knew better since she had given so much of herself to the group, to the chats, not to mention her being a fine dancer who could also drive semi trucks and write good poetry.

April soon left us. We watched her go through the room proudly showing off her trophy and certificate. The certificate read----"Certificate of Achievement for 1998..awarded to April----Most Promising Dancer of the year--- Most active at Dollies on the computer. Best personality. Slated to be number one choice for the 1998 Gentlemens' owners club convention in Las Vegas to represent her club and the Alpha Productions booth. Sad thing was she never made it to the convention. She had stopped communicating with me and other key members of the group. Wouldn't even return phone calls and not just from me but from other female members of the group.

But let's be clear on one thing however.   Last year April seemed to be having a nervous breakdown in the club, not once but on at least two nights, crying on my shoulder telling me about a domestic violence suit she was defendant in.   A lawyer had been coming into the club and had taken on the case.  This lawyer had a dancer friend living a great distance from the club she was working for.  As a condition for further representation, he insisted that April move the dancer in with her although she had never met the girl.   I asked April if she wanted to end the lawsuit against her and she sobbed:   "Yes."  "Okay then--I will get you a lawyer and I will not attach any conditions other than your cooperation in this domestic violence matter.  You don't have to do anything.   April agreed and for awhile she sent me critical information such as names, case numbers, etc.

I saw my United States Congressman.  After calling his office from my motel room, I found out he was not in Washington D.C. as I expected but in his Collinsville office.  One and a half hours after calling  I was in his office showing him pictures of April on my laptop computer.   I had done him a favor or two by writing newspaper articles calling on voters in our district to vote for him.   Now it was his turn to come through for me---------and he did.

A week later a Belleville attorney called me offering free legal representation to April.   She made an appointment with the man, overslept the day her appointment arrived, then called me to ask what she should do next.   I had the answer.  It was obvious she was hanging with the wrong crowd and it was also apparent she would be likely to miss the second appointment assuming she would make it in the first place.   The key was to get her in a situation where I could get her up.  I would get her a motel room next to mine, get a key to her room, and make damn sure to let myself in before the appointment and get her up at all costs.   After all, she had asked for my help, had agreed to cooperate in the legal proceedings against her, and I was determined to follow through with my end of the bargain.   And then it all went to hell and a hand basket.    She stopped responding to my questions in e-mails to her asking what she was doing about the "free lawyer" I had secured for her.  Then....in the back room at Dollies when I asked her what she was doing about the lawyer situation she cried out-----"Get out of my life."   I calmly packed up my laptop and camera and left the club.

Water under the damn.    A couple months later April came to my farm for a little toga party I was having.    One of the women in the Lost Angels group, a good friend of mine, drove her to the farm and while there promised April that she would look out for her the way she would her own daughter.   The woman then hugged April and April hugged her back as the woman said:   "I am adopting you in my heart as my daughter."   She meant every word of it.

There's no way you can take someone to a convention who doesn't return phone calls. I had asked Heaven up in Indiana to represent the booth and she accepted. April was to be the second girl at our booth rooming with Heaven at the Las Vegas hotel where everyone was staying. When Beater came down from Canada last July she was rude to both of us in the club and spent Sunday night ignoring us. Finally I caught her at the bar and said that I wanted to talk with her for five minutes. "Too busy, " she said to me. Which was a total lie since there weren't many customers in the club and she was spending most of her time talking to the doorman, the manager, and the other girls.

"Okay," I told her. "I'll say it right here then even if we are overheard. You are not going to Las Vegas." Now alarmed, April rushed over to our little table and sat down with Beater to apologize saying that she was too busy.  Later Beater told me that he felt she wanted to stay on the good side of us after I busted her bubble about the 1998 Gentlemens Club Owners convention.

A few days later I invited Howard, a Dollies club manager, to represent the Alpha Pro Booth with Heaven. April then asked a good friend of Howard's to take her to the convention. For several weeks everyone thought she was going. Then the guy got busy at work and begged off. April never got to the convention. Instead, she got pregnant.

Which brings us again to Saturday night. Time to take pictures I announced to our table of friends. Someone rushed off to get April and our group headed to the back room to do a photo shoot with my digital camera.

Howard, not the club manager, Howard, but Alex's and my friend took the pictures since I had to be in them. Alex and April were in the front row with Silky with Tori and me sitting up on the bar. April and Alex  proudly flourished their trophies while April showed off her certificate with her free hand.

Then it's all of us back at the table to develop the digital pictures on the laptop. I ask the girl how April's handling the evening. "Real well," the girl replies. "She's happy about her award but afraid of what I'm going to do to her boyfriend."

"Just as I suspected," I'm thinking. "Getting second thoughts about it already. Just wait till we see what her

second thoughts are when he's being had."

There's a girl up on stage yelling at me. "I want to do pictures", she says, so I yell back at her--"Want to do some derelict pictures?" to which she grins. When she comes off the stage one of my friends and I take her in the back room. Most of us are getting three sheets to the wind by now. I'm in the pictures with the girl with my friend shooting them and they end up being the most sexually explicit pictures I've ever been involved in. They're too much for the site or the chat.

The girl who had taken care of the awards is now telling me she expects April to leave around 1 AM. That's about the time her own shift ends since she usually comes in early during the day shift and leaves well before 4 AM. "But I'll hang in there as long as I can," she tells me. "But I'm starting to feel pretty tired and drunk." "Time to get the awards near my table I tell her. That way I can give Rocci his prize as soon as he comes in. Or you can".

The girl goes behind the bar, then returns to me. "Two of the trophies are gone," she says.

"Which ones?" I ask knowing that one of the missing trophies is going to be "Leech of the Year".

"The one of "Best Bartender" is missing and also the one for "Leech of the Year". April's been back there and she's gone through them all."

"Yeah, and we can just guess who's taken the Leech of the Year trophy. I guess you shouldn't have trusted her when she told you she was upset with her boyfriend. Now she's tipped off. She's probably scared to death now, knowing what you are planning to say to him when he comes in." I then ask the manager about the missing trophies and he starts asking Nightshade, the bar tender if she's seen them. Nightshade looks around the bar for a moment, then hands the manager the "Bartender of the Year award". How convenient that out of eight trophies only the one for "Leech of the Year" is now missing, I tell myself.

The girl's now having second thoughts about roasting Rocci. "April's having a good time. She's in good spirits. I don't want to spoil her evening," she tells me. I don't feel the same way about it. What is one evening going to matter compared to a lifetime?" I tell the girl. "And I really hate hurting April", I'm thinking to myself. "Would not hurt her for the world, but she's already been hurt. Pregnant by someone who obviously does not care for her, otherwise he'd not put up with watching her dance pregnant, he'll either leave her or continue to leech off her. Far better to show him for what he is-----a bloated tick...a human leech. Oh...she might not get it at all but how about the other girls? Many of them have a man who's living off them. Rocci's getting his trophy might just make one of them wake up.

"Nights getting later. Gotta keep an eye out", I tell myself. "He might just slip in here and suddenly I come back from being in the middle of something and they are both gone. Might be our last chance. I have my ace in the hole outside in my truck. Two plastic containers of twelve leeches. A dozen leeches in each container filled with water and I've written on each container--"To Rocci, Lost Angels Leech of the Year." The containers have lids on them made of plastic which snap in place. There's a paper sack with the containers and inside the sack's a certificate that reads--------"Award of accomplishment----to Rocci...the Lost Angels Leach of the Year Award------for letting his girlfriend dance pregnant while sitting on his ass."

Once again I find the girl. "The bag's now underneath my table." Don't let him off easy. Crucify him. You said yourself he deserves it. " She looks at me with narrowed eyes-"I will, if I'm still here. Getting sleepy and I got too drunk."

I'm beginning to feel more and more like the Lone Ranger, which is fine, because I'm used to it. Obviously April's staying much later than she normally does. Probably scared to death that something's going to go down that will be very embarrassing. Obviously knows I'm cooking something up for her boyfriend. Time to get another beer. Howard's over at the bar.

"I feel bad about April," he whispers to me. "Never seen her in such a good mood. But I guess it's too late for her."

"You never got to know her Howard. You've never seen her the way some of us have. She's a beautiful girl who everyone around here liked."

Somewhere around three o'clock the girl who was going to roast Rocci leaves, barely able to keep her eyes open anymore. She's been in the club since late afternoon. All of us have had too much to drink. My friend and his girlfriend had left an hour before the girl, both of them pretty lit. Alex is feeling good and proud of her trophy as dancer of the year which she still feels she didn't deserve.

Doesn't deserve it? We all know better. The girl who had gotten the trophies and had done such a good job getting everyone at our table and out in the back room for the photo shoot never questioned Alex's deserving "Dancer of the Year". So many of them are likely to say something like--"What about me? April never questioned it, being happy as a lark to get 1998's most promising but she never did begrudge another girl what she deserved which is one of the things I liked about her. And none of the other dancers in the group begrudged Alex's deserving "Dancer of the Year". The men in the group spoke in one voice----*Alex*. No contest. No woman the group had seen yet cared about others so much. The men and the women in the group. Out to help the younger dancers, she had often said....."I don't want to see them make the same mistakes I've made." And meant it.

Her intelligence doesn't slam you in the back the way some women's intelligence does. Might be that touch of Southern in her with the trace of drawl in her voice. It just sneaks up on you. She's poised and polite but when she wants to, anyone who crosses her has hell to pay. Physically strong she can carry me around the room without seeming to strain herself. She can do the pole. Few of them actually can. She's our Dancer of the Year. Best of the breed and it will be Alex who will give next year's winner her trophy. She's having a good time although she still has to worry about making her money. After all, she's at work--playing the role of being a stripper, the poet in her tipsy.

Up to me now. Wasn't supposed to go down this way. Focus Jack. Focus. You are not out to have a good time. Getting late and you've got a job to do. Don't let Last Year's Most Promising Dancer out of your sight and watch the door. It can be any moment now. Getting close to four and most of the customers are already leaving. April's never stayed this late----not after getting pregnant. And then I see someone come in the door. April's boyfriend. I'd describe him here but it's not worth it. Not much going there.

By now Tori's at the bar. So is Alex and Howard. April's doing something behind the bar----fooling around with something. Her back towards the room. Rocci's standing over at the cigarette machine waiting for her. I take the paper bag from under my table and put it under a bar stool next to Tori, then pull the bag apart slightly. "Want to see the leeches, Tori?"

"You are crazy Jack. Sorry but I don't want to give him the leeches. I don't want April mad at me." And that expresses the way all the girls used to feel about April. She was the most popular dancer I've met with the other girls and the staff in a profession that thrives on jealousy and back stabbing. Tori afraid of April? Hell, I don't think Tori would be afraid of an enraged elephant. And April never seemed much of a fighter.

No time to lose, I picked up the bag and walked over to Rocci as the bar got quieter than death frozen over. Handing him the bag with the leeches and the certificate inside I announced loud enough so everyone could hear me. "Rocci.....Here is your 1998 award by unanimous decision of the Lost Angels. You are our "Leech of the Year" for having your girlfriend dance pregnant while you sit on your ass. Congratulations." Then he did something I still find hard to believe. Taking the bag in his left hand, he actually shook my hand, then said something inane about an award I had supposedly won.

Minutes later found me talking outside with Howard and Alex who had her car parked right in front of the Dollies door. Sitting in the drivers seat she had her car window rolled down as she talked with Howard standing next to the car door. Suddenly we saw a blonde come outside, advancing straight towards us. Although pregnant with her body bloated as she danced on stage, she was still a striking girl. Which is one of the worse things about it----a girl who had been slender and still very attractive girl reduced to dancing in an advanced pregnant condition practically naked on the stage when she could have done so much better.

"Jack, I have something for you (it was me she wanted). Here is your award for being fuckhead of the year. Throwing a drink in my face, she then swung on me half heartedly. the liquid doused Howard's coat and got on Alex as she sat behind the wheel. I don't know if she meant to hurt me but somehow I don't think she did as I pulled back my head and she missed by a mile. The three of us watched her go back into the club looking very much alone.

I laughed all the way home, my face still wet. I don't think it was tequila or a mixed drink but plain water. I came back to the club two days later, arriving at 10:15 PM on a Monday evening after a very important and productive business appointment. The girl who had gotten the awards for us and who had done such a fine job was sitting in a car when I pulled up in my Dodge Dakota four wheel drive. As I was getting out with my laptop and camera she came up to me saying-----"I want to spare you the surprise and embarrassment but you've been barred from the club. And I've heard you are never to be let back in." We talked for a few minutes then she asked, "Do you have that trophy for Dina? The best bartender award."

"Sure I do, " I told her as I got it from underneath the passenger seat of my pickup.

"I'll go inside and give it to her, " the girl said as she walked back into the club.

 I called out to her, "Can you get Howard to come outside to talk to me?"

Moments later still standing next to my pickup I saw Dina running across 100 feet of parking lot, full speed towards me.

Still holding her trophy she hugged me tight as I lifted her off the ground and told me: "Thanks for the trophy Jack. Means a lot to me."

 It was her way of telling me that she thought I had done the right thing even though I had gotten barred. I had known her for several years and had always felt she was one I could always trust and if I was ever wanted by the law she would help me no matter what. I was soon talking to Howard who told me Alex and Tori were getting very drunk. A few minutes later I saw Mike, the night manager come outside and I walked up to him. Another man was next to him who had once been a manager on weekend nights. Through the last few months I found myself respecting his competence and professionalism more and more. He was the best I've ever seen and I told him so. The other man now spoke up. "You made a mistake getting into her personal life." I didn't argue but I knew better. We all did.

A few nights later as I went into Dollies, a manager told me, "You can never come in here again, Jack.  You are kicked out for life."

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