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As the waitresses fanned out to the tables to remind the customers that happy-hour was coming to an end, Mama told Blen and Amor to take off their tops and walk through the bar. The four pert breasts, framed in the horizontal quadrants formed by the bandoleers, drew all eyes, and suggested promise of things to come. The customers all ordered a last round of happy-hour drinks that would take them beyond happy-hour. Once those drinks were consumed, the shooters were the best value in the bar. Between nine and ten, after several customers had bought shots from them, Blen and Amor were quite intoxicated, and their approaches became flirtatious and ribald. The more intoxicated they were, and the more intoxicated the customers were, the more shots were sold. Mama and Daddy were happy.
Blen approached a table, and now was selling body shots, not drinks.
"Hi guys do you like a body shot ... me or you? Which do you like? You are 100 and I am 150."
A couple of the guys were up for a body shot on her.
"OK. I do you two at once," she offered.
The drinks were poured, and the guys took their first two shots. Blen then prepared her nipples, and they took their third. Each then latched onto a nipple and suckled. There were catcalls from the stage, and a surge in the hum of conversation, as attention was directed to this free show.
Urged on by the spectators, Blen raised herself on the barstool's footrests so the whole bar could see. She rubbed the lemon on her nipples and sprinkled the salt. The customers then slammed their fourth shots, shot-gunned them down, and immediately each latched onto a nipple. Blen grabbed their heads and held them at her breasts to calls of encouragement from the stage. She looked in the mirror to acknowledge the onlookers who were enjoying this entertainment. As she looked around, she glimpsed a familiar face. The lights were dim, she was drunk and her vision was blurred, as it was when she masturbated. She blinked and effortfully focused, as she also did when she masturbated, and forced the features to emerge.
She saw Nick's face, and for an instant this did not surprise her, but then she realised she was in the bar not the shower. I was not her imagination. It really was Nick. He was sitting on a stool at the stage, staring blankly at her.
Blen's blood ran cold. The effect of the alcohol seemed to dissipate suddenly. She was able to feel shame. She could feel her face flush. It was as if she had bitten the apple offered by the wicked serpent.
Releasing the captive heads, she dropped to the floor and silently holstered her bottles, then turned, and looking down at the floor, walked past Nick, ignoring his call, out into the changing area. Slumping down against the wall, she began to cry into her hands. Other girls gathered around in concern, but she did not respond to them.
Amor entered. "Blen what is wrong? There is people waiting for you. Your friend is asking for you."
"The guy sitting at the stage?" sobbed Blen.
"Yes, he have come in to see you."
"How do he know to come here?" asked Blen rhetorically, but Amor answered.
"I tell him to come here. He ask me yesterday in Johnnies."
"You see him in Johnnies?" spat Blen.
"Yes, when I am in Johnnies buying chocolate, he speak to me. He think I am you. I tell him I am your sister, and he asked where he can see you. I tell him you are always here, because you cannot go bar-fine."
"I do not want to see him. I will stay here until he go. Tell him go away."
"I cannot tell him. It is not our job to send a customer away," answered Amor. "He look a nice guy ... where do you know him from? The video?"
"He is the guy in church." Blen continued to sob.
"He does not look too strange."
"Then you take him. If he like me, he will like you also. I do not want to see him again."
Amor shrugged, unable to answer Blen's anger, and left.
After five minutes, she reappeared with Daddy. "What are you playing at, Blen. There's a customer waiting for you, and you send him Amor. What's going on?"
"I do not want to see him," said Blen.
"Amor tells me he's your boyfriend, why don't you want to see him? This is no time for a lovers tiff. Get out and sell drinks."
"I cannot," said Blen.
"Well, let me help you," said Daddy.
He grabbed Blen by the arm, pulled her up, and marched her, feet dragging, into the bar. He stopped in front of Nick, and let go of her arm.
"Here she is," he said to Nick, "she's a little bit ass-holed, the shots have been selling well, but she's OK to give you a good time."
"Thanks," Nick said to Daddy
"No problem." Daddy walked off.
Blen stood in front of Nick, looking at the floor.
"Hello. I'm really glad to have caught up with you."
Blen continued to look at the floor.
"Won't you even look at me," challenged Nick.
Blen raised steely, tear-stained, eyes, and stared belligerently, into his face.
"Blen, you're angry with me. Why?"
"Why do you come here?" Blen said fiercely.
Nick was conscious that their little drama was becoming part of the entertainment.
"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"
"Follow me," said Blen, and she walked off, leaving him trailing.
He hurried after her and caught up, just as she reached the booth. She entered and sat down, and as he joined her, a waitress appeared.
The waitress looked at Nick and asked, "Blow-job?"
"No Blow-job," retorted Blen angrily, and she snatched at the curtain, pulling it shut.
"I am just working, Blen," said the waitress, plaintively.
"Why do you come here?" she repeated to Nick
"You didn't call me, I wanted to see you. Your sister told me you worked here."
"Do you think they employ a nurse in Talent Spot? Do you think you find a student nurse in here?" her voice was angry, and sarcastic.
Nick remained even-tempered. "I just wanted to find the lovely girl who kissed me, a week ago, on MacArthur Highway."
Mama's voice sounded from the other side of the curtain, "Blen, I hope you are not giving a blow-job in there. Remember, you are not to give the blow-job until Bruno return."
"No Mama, I remember, no blow-job," said Blen, pointedly.
"You see," she addressed Nick, "that girl who kiss you is a liar, she do not exist."
"Let's look into that a bit," said Nick.
"Who was the girl who bought the candles and knelt down to pray? Was that you?
"Who was the girl that sat in prayer through that dreary Mass? Was that you?
"Who was the girl that put 1000 pesos in the charity box? Was that you?
"Who was the girl who went out of her way to help a stranger? Was that you?
"Who was the girl with the dazzling smile who listened to me drone on about nothing in particular? Was that you?
"Who was the girl who kissed me on MacArthur highway? Was that you?
"Because, that's the girl I've come here to see and that girl IS you."
"I am not a student nurse, I do not have a generous father," asserted Blen.
"So, who's 1000 pesos did you put in the Charity Box?"
"That was mine ... three blow-jobs only," said Blen, contemptuously.
"You're one up on me then," said Nick. "You remember my 1000 peso note"
"Of course."
"Since you were turned the other way, I put it back in my pocket," said Nick.
Blen was horrified. She could hardly speak the words. Her opinion of his moral superiority evaporated.
"You put the money in your pocket? You are rich. You have everything, and you trick me so I think you are a nice guy. You do not care about the poor. Why does a guy like you come in church?"
"Because I follow pretty girls in the street, and if they go into church, I go into church."
Blen's opinion of Nick plummeted still lower.
"You follow young girls like your daughter in the street, and try and pick her up in church. Are you a pervert?"
"No. I'm just an ordinary Joe, like the two who were hanging off you tits, earlier. No better, but no worse."
"And, will you like to hang off my tits also?"
"Yes I would," said Nick calmly, "Give me four."
"I will get my things." Blen was defiant. She sprang to the floor, turned in a flounce, and strode off.
Returning with the essentials, she banged the four glasses down on the table, sat and pulled the curtain, and poured the shooters. Nick took his shots.
After the first, he coughed.
After the second, his face flushed.
After the third, he looked at Blen through blood shot eyes.
She glared menacingly back for a few seconds, then picked up the lemon. Nick caught her hand and took it from her. He rubbed it on her lips, and then applied salt. Blen sat motionless. He threw back his shot, leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, and held the kiss. When he leaned back, Blen continued to stare at him, now through soft, damp eyes.
"To clear the air, there are two more lies I told you," said Nick.
"Yes?" said Blen.
"Oral sex does not repel me."
"I forgive you," said Blen.
"And I did put that 1000 peso note in the Charity Box."
Blen slid onto his lap and threw her arms around him.
"I am so glad you are a nice guy."
They embraced in silence for several minutes.
"Can we meet somewhere and talk?" asked Nick.
"Can we go in McDonalds again?"
"Two- o'clock tomorrow?" suggested Nick.
"Maybe two, maybe two-thirty, just wait me."
"You've got your watch."
"Just wait me next time," said Blen.
"I'll leave you to it for now, but I look forward to seeing you tomorrow," said Nick.
He paid his tab, and left as the banana eating competition got under way.
Blen, psychologically concussed by the evening's events, floated around with a distracted air until a few shots dulled her senses, and she reverted once more to a party girl. She could have been bar-fined five times over if she had not been a cherry. The evening was a success, and she walked unsteadily home by herself, all her roommates were bar-fined.
Before she slept, she lay alone on the bed, and fantasising about Nick, employed Girlie's vibrator to bring herself to successive orgasms, until she subsided, exhausted, onto the mattress.
On Wednesday morning, when she came down into the sala, it was like entering a ghost ship. There were signs of occupation, but no one was there. Blen wanted to talk, but there was no one to talk to. She wanted to talk about Nick. She wanted to ask about Nick, and to tell everyone how wonderful he was. That was all she had to say, but she wanted to say it a lot. Her head was a little hazy, and her memory patchy, so she wondered how much had really happened, and how much she had imagined.
Blen busied herself with routine chores, and checked her watch frequently. Eventually, two girls emerged from the front bedroom. They were menstruating, so had missed out on the bar-fine rush. They remembered Blen taking two body shots at once, and they remembered her giving a customer a hard time by the stage. But, customers were customers. It was difficult to tell which was more wonderful than the other. Blen told them anyway. They listened with good humour, having heard it many times before.
Before she left at one-thirty, one or two more girls returned with stories of disappointing customers who just wanted to fuck them, tip them, say thank you, and goodbye. The others appeared to have succeeded in being retained as companions.
When she arrived at McDonalds, at two-o'clock prompt, Nick was waiting. He greeted her with her with a peck on the cheek. She wanted to hug him, and kiss him, but McDonalds was not the place. They sat, and agreed their orders, which Nick went to buy. Blen had a large coffee. She needed to chase away the after effects of the previous night. They exchanged smiles, and ate, but neither could think of a way to open the conversation that they needed to have. Eventually Blen bit the bullet.
"So, what is your plan for me?"
"I want to get to know you better, that's my plan today. See where we go from there. One step at a time, and see where that leads," said Nick.
"Do you think you can marry with me? If it is, No, say me now. I am a simple girl from the province. Do not play with my heart."
"We've met just three times ... four now ... so I can only tell you what I want for tomorrow, for next week. But I want to see you every day. I think I would like to see you every day, for a long time."
"Will you marry a bar-girl?" Blen asked.
"That's not a problem. When I look at you, I see the girl I met in church. I don't care much for virgins anyway. I prefer my girls experienced, less to teach them."
"Oh ... So sorry, I am a cherry girl. You will have to teach me."
Nick sat up, startled.
"But ... last night ... you didn't look like a cherry girl." His mouth moved, but no further words came.
"I do not want to be a cherry girl, but I sell my cherry to Mama, so now I must wait."
"Wait for what?"
"For Mama to sell my cherry."
"Can I buy it? How much is it?" asked Nick.
"You must ask Mama, but she has an offer of 50,000 and there are three customers who are interest. She will sell me next month," Blen told him.
Nick did some quick calculations in his head, "I will speak with Mama tonight."
"There is another guy who is interest in me," said Blen, "He want to marry with me. He is coming next month. He is very rich. He said he will pay any money for me."
At this, Nick subsided into thought. "I'm not rich. I'm in and out of work. I'm not a steady guy. Maybe you should marry this rich guy. Maybe I should not have interfered. I'm sorry. I didn't know you already had plans."
"I do not have plans. He have plans. I hate him. He raped my throat," Blen told Nick.
"How did he do that?"
"I am the blow-job girl in Talent Spot. Mama gave him 'try-before-you-buy', but he rape my throat. He says it is my fault."
Nick paused again to reflect on this.
"What about the other two guys?"
"I do not know the other guys. One is Chinese. He is coming next month. Mama wait him to sell me. He want to meet with me before his offer. The other is from California. He know me, but I do not know him."
"You're full of surprises," said Nick, "every time I meet you, you become more and more interesting. This is a lot to take in so suddenly. I'll speak with Mama tonight. We can talk about our future, or lack of it, tomorrow. For now, let's go to the movies and hold hands."
They took a trike to the mall and sat happily, with their arms around each other, watching other people acting at being thwarted in love, but against all the odds ending up in one another's arms. They left the cinema inspired, and chugged up to Talent Spot in a trike. Nick dropped Blen off with a parting kiss, and promised he would come in later, after he had thought things over.
Blen started work with mixed feelings. She had a boyfriend. She had a relationship. She had placed her trust in Nick, but her world was so uncertain. Nick was not a brother or uncle; he was a stranger. He could disappear overnight. He could have a wife. He might find another girl, but for now she was not troubled by thoughts of Bruno, or her cherry. That was now Nick's problem. If he loved her, he would sort it out.
Amor and Girlie were back at Talent Spot. They had been bar-fined by resident ex-pats, who had married, brought up kids, been widowed, passed their worldly goods to their offspring and retired to Angeles to end their days eking out their pensions as playboys. They enjoyed the girls, and the girls enjoyed them. But, the most a girl would ever be to them was a good value fuck-buddy, who would give them a full 1500 pesos worth once a fortnight. It was good to have a circle of such customers for fun and remuneration, but they would never be life partners.
The three girls went into a girly huddle to discuss Nick.
"Is he the guy you never want to see again?" asked Amor.
"He behave now," said Blen, "He is interest to marry me, he will talk with Mama tonight."
"What happen?"
"He apologise to me."
"For what?"
"He shock me last night. I do not expect him," said Blen.
"Will you divorce him, if he walk in the CR, and you do not expect him?" asked Girlie.
"It is not a joke, he shock me, but he is a nice guy so I forgive him."
"What will happen about Bruno?" asked Amor.
"Nick will make a plan." Blen was confident.
Just as doubts began to surface in Blen's mind, Nick reappeared. He took a seat and Blen hurried over to drape herself on him.
"Give me four," he ordered.
Blen set up the shooters, and Nick gallantly took his body shot on her lips as her friends followed the touching scene.
"OK. I will speak with Mama now."
Blen led him through to the back. "Mama, this is Nick, my boyfriend, he want to speak with you."
"Your boyfriend, Blen? Well .. hello Nick." Mama looked quizzically at him. "What can I do for you?"
"I understand Blen's cherry is for sale, I'd like to buy it."
"I understand," said Mama, "Has Blen tell to you the current position?"
"There is an offer of 50,000 on the table. I can give you 60,000 cash now," said Nick.
"That is a good offer. I like to accept, because the girl is daft, I am sure she will like to give you her cherry. But I cannot. Did Blen tell you that there is an option? I cannot sell her cherry until Fu-Han come here; he has paid 50,000 to keep open the option to bid. When he has met with her I can accept bids, but the friend of Fu-Han is rich, and Bruno also is rich."
"That is pie-in-the-sky," said Nick, "it may never happen. This guy may not like Blen, particularly if Blen doesn't want to be liked. Then there's only one rich guy. He may not return. He may die. He may meet another girl. Angeles is full of pretty cherry-girls. I will give you 75,000 pesos cash now, in your hand. That is certain money."
Mama thought for a moment. "Are you a rich man?"
"I am a man with 75,000 pesos in my pocket," snapped Nick, "that is all you need to know."
"Of course, I do not mean to pry. But, if I suppose you are not a rich man, if you will pay 75,000, a rich man will pay more."
"May pay more," reminded Nick. "How many people have turned away a great deal, because they believe there is a better one further down the road, only to be disappointed, and miss the best price."
"That is true. What is your best offer?"
"100,000 pesos," said Nick.
"Is that what you have in your pocket?"
"I'll throw in the pocket fluff as well."
"OK, just wait," said Mama, and she walked out.
"She seems to be thinking about it at least?" Nick said to Blen, who waited patiently.
Mama returned. "I have just spoken to one rich man. He offer 150,000 straight away."
"Those are words. It is a promise that can evaporate like the morning mist. I have money now, in my pocket. No dodgy promises. Real money now," said Nick.
"Then I must choose if will place a bet. Can I bet your 100,000?" said Mama, thoughtfully.
She stared at Nick for a few seconds.
"For all I know, you are a rich man. You may be sounding me to see if you can buy Blen cheap by cutting out your rivals. There are now four interests. I think Blen will go up in value. Go up a lot. I do not think she will go down. I will bet against you. I am sorry, but you must wait, and bid with the others, if they come."
"OK then, you say I must bid, how does that work. What are the rules?" asked Nick.
"I do not know yet. Nothing is arranged. Bruno requires that it is transparent, that he must see the cash; that is all."
"Let me think a moment."
"I will be here all night," said Mama, and she sat down at her desk.
Nick paced back and forth in the changing room, deep in thought, unconscious of Blen's trusting eyes following his every movement. After ten or twelve turns, he returned to Mama.
"Hu-Fan paid 50,000 for an option, right?"
"Yes, he did."
"And, there are no rules?"
"There will be."
