The Hustle

I think most people know that Cassidy song (it always feels weird referring
to rap music as songs, is it even music? Can I say that Cassidy rap?).
Anyways, "I'm A Hustla, I'm a I'm a hustla homie.." That is the basis of
this story.

Wednesday 6.45pm - Tropez.

I check in. Feeling abit drowsy. Still tired from Tuesday's drinking, a
bunch of work at the office didn't help much. But its Wednesday! What's
there not to like? Ladies night as it's called. They come out to play. 0.5
is still at work, maybe for another hour or so. All good. I can hang out and
watch these two ladies next to me drinking any and everything. At the rate
they are going, I see myself getting a number at some point in the night.
Maybe more. A guy can always hope eh? Hooters flashes me. I call back. She
is out of town, just wanted to say hi. "Mbona umenitupa?" I want to say
apparently not far enough. Anyways, we waste my airtime on some grunts and
uh huhs, acknowledging that we are both ok, we will hook up when you come
back eh? Good. She says to say hi to 0.5. He and her cousin are tight like
that.

Around 9 (I'm going to stop tracking this cause, I really wasn't paying much
attention to the time).

0.5 checks in. Business as usual. Drinking. Remember BigDread? Her sister?
SisterDread. Yes? Well, she pops out of nowhere, castigates me for not
calling and not buying alcohol. I am not that high yet so I promise to buy
alcohol later, not now. At some point I am passing their table, meet
SisterDread again. She is also sulking about something I did, or didn't do.
I really don't give a hoot. As the evening progresses, guys get higher, the
singing gets louder and worse (Karaoke night). I'm loving it. We get to
talking to our drinking compadres (the ladies at our table drinking
everything on the menu - and they are still going strong. She doesn't look
high. Try to convince them to belt out some song. They refuse. Definitely
not high enough. Scary women. I get a number, set a date for Friday. One of
them says Friday is a must-drink day. Right On!! Still thinking of a name
for them. Double-tot sisters? Just an idea. At some point they really have
to leave. Slurred speech. Ahh yes, so they are human. Goodbyes are
exchanged, promises of future imbibing are dispensed. Its a date. Now we
have two empty seats.

The Hustle begins.

BigDread comes over and states they are leaving. I act disappointed. So
soon? What time is it? Ok, don't look at the time, its too early to leave.
She claims all she has left is cab fare, she has to leave. I suggest one
more drink, just one more then you guys can leave. Yes, that was my little
head thinking. She agrees. They move to our table. BigDread engulfs 0.5 (I
couldn't see the guy). SisterDread sits with me. It moved from one
"harmless" drink to lap dance in a blink of an eye. I mean, first of all it
was just fun and games. Then SisterDread took it to a whole other level. 0.5
and BigDread were forgotten. How can you think of anything with someone
sticking their tongue in your ear while trying to swallow your lower lip? I
mean I am not a shy guy, I think, but public shows of affection (although I
don't think we can call it that) just don't sit well with me. I don't mind
the odd hug here and there. However, ravenous sucking of tongues is
something else. Only time I came up for air was to search for more cash for
liquor. That was the cleanest jacking I have ever experienced. For the price
of some d1ck grabbing (yes, that happened. I think I was in shock-plus other
feelings-when it happened so I was slow to react to it), lap dancing,
tongue-in-ear action; liquor was bought. She had a short skirt on, which she
kept pulling up while dancing. She can't have been that high. No she can't.
I could see her finery (panties just sounds nasty). But she was being nasty.
They would spill pint all over the table, it would be quickly wiped off by
the waiters and I promptly replenish. I'm so easy. I'm sure that's what they
were thinking when they left. Not that there was much warning. One minute
she was there. Next she was gone. At least I got her number this time (I
thought I was going to get much more, I really did. I was promised a night
of debauchery later. Don't think it will materialise.). What I do know is
that she was probably singing that Cassidy rap (song?) as she left. I'm a
hustla, I'm a I'm a hustla homie, you're a customer.

Anyways. What better way to spend your Wednesday? No happy ending though.