When I was in my twenties I started work for an optician whom I had a wonderful three years with before moving on to pastures new.
During my time there I befriended a great girl called Ruth. We were like peas in a pod, anyone would have believed that we were sisters. And we got on like a house on fire, sharing the same thoughts, desires and dreams.
Oh, and lets not forget…passion for spending a night out watching the male strippers. 😉 These events didn’t happen very often but if there were naked guys in town, then we would be there.
I used to be painfully shy as a child but as I grew up and my confidence blossomed with me, I began to enjoy life more. And it allowed me to do things I wouldn’t have done otherwise. Like going out for the night and ogling strange men. Well, not so much strange but naked and ripped.
One evening we were in a nightclub in the town centre watching the strippers. I think there were four different acts appearing and the room was electric with lots of girls getting excited and slightly drunk.
We took a table midway back from the main stage, just close enough to be able to see and not miss the action but far away enough to not be asked up on stage. Although I wasn’t shy I never fancied being one of the “chosen ones” to be taken up on stage and have lude acts performed on me. I must have been crazy! 😉
I don’t recall any of the performances except for the commando/Rambo act. The guy was built like a rugby player and came on stage dressed in his camo gear, sporting a toy gun and machete. Looking every bit the part.
He strutted up and down the stage waving his weapon at everyone and his gun. Lol Casting off one garment at a time. I recall he was an attractive blonde guy with a very strong jaw and azure eyes. I know this because I ran to the stage for a closer look when he ripped off his trousers. You know me, never one to miss out on a good ogle.
I retreated as he started to look around the crowd of girls for a target.
The night was a good one and the following morning I went to work with a really bad head. But we both laughed off the hangover in our usual giddy way. The morning dragged and in the afternoon I decided to polish the glasses on the display stands and do a little bit of rearranging.
A couple of weeks passed and the night became a treasured, if naughty, memory. One morning I was giving a pair of glasses a final clean ready for the customer to collect them when the door buzzer went and a guy and his daughter made their way to the reception desk. Ruth checked them off into the book, the girl had come for an eye examination.
I continued to clean the lenses of the glasses and for some reason my gaze was drawn to the guy, even though I couldn’t immediately work out why. At that moment he turned round to take a seat and I nearly dropped the glasses on the floor.
It was the stripper we had been watching on out night out and Ruth hadn’t recognised him. My face must have been a picture. I couldn’t wait to get behind the desk and tell Ruth who he was.
When I told her we couldn’t keep our faces straight and had to disappear in to the back of the shop to regain our composure.
All I will say is that stripping must pay well because his daughter was dressed in the local private schools uniform.
Am I in the wrong profession…