The elevator doors opened, and as if we had slightly opened a dam, my sense were deluged.
Jason was wrong. I didn’t like what I saw.
I loved it.
I loved the hell out of it.
I stared down a long hallway that had a circular entrance at the end, as if we were in an ancient temple full of booby traps. The sound waves of the bass rippled through our ears—this time it sounded like Deadmau5’s “Ghosts ‘n Stuff,” the popular catchy riff that had become a mandatory staple of every DJ. Just in front of the circular door laid two bathtubs on each side, surrounded by candles. I could smell the smoke like it was incense during Mass.
I walked closer and saw the real prize. Inside those bathtubs, two near-naked women laid, seductively rubbing each other’s stomach and breasts and seducing every passing person with a look that said “come, won’t you come and join us?” Save for some well-placed flower petals, these girls had nothing to wear. It was as close to a sexual Garden of Eden as one could hope for.
Even by Vegas standards, this place was ridiculous. It wasn’t a sex party, but it felt like the gateway to one. I’d been to nightclubs in Las Vegas that featured dancers without many clothes on, but they may as well have been wearing winter coats compared to the ones in here.
I mean, how does a 22-year old man who had never been to a place even remotely similar to this describe it as anything other than “the best party I’ve ever been to?” The phrase got thrown around at parties like cans of Bud Light, but in this case, I couldn’t think of anything else.
I began walking toward the entrance, wondering if the girls ever saw anyone hot enough to actually invite out later. About three steps in, I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. I turned around with an annoyed look on my face to see Obi motioning with his other hand to go the other way. Over his shoulder, Jason was waiting, still with that grin on his face. I looked past Jason and saw a room far in the distance with people dancing.
Begrudgingly, I walked toward Jason and he took us to the room. I doubt I would have ever known this room existed if not for Jason guiding us there.
Once we got into the back room, Jason kept walking… and walking… past all the big tables… and finally we came to a corner table with red felt, as far back from the main room as you could get. It was still crowded, but we had gotten the shit of shit. Our table was big enough to fit two bottles of alcohol; two, maybe three mixers; and nothing more. We had the couch space of a loveseat for the two of us, Obi’s girlfriend, and any other girls that joined us. I felt like I was back in Manhattan again, where space for one became space for three.
“All right, Marcus and Obi, this is your table, you guys should have a lot of fun tonight,” Jason said. “Samantha is your waitress, and she will take care of you as far as getting the alcohol and what not goes.”
“Thanks dude, I definitely appreciate it. Is there any chance at all we can get a table on the main floor?”
Jason’s smile remained, but dimmed.
“Well, you can, but it’s going to cost a few extra grand.”
The fuck?
My eyes bugged and Jason nodded as if saying “and there’s no room for negotiation.” I looked over at Obi, and his look confirmed what Jason said.
“Cool, cool, yeah we’re not that rich, sorry. But I do appreciate you setting us up.”
“Anytime man.”
I shook his hand and crumpled inside were two $20’s.
“Oh, thanks dude, appreciate it. You want me to do anything else?”
