Never EVER Follow the Crowd ...

I've never been one to follow the crowd.  In fact, I'm usually the one who suggests the trouble we find.  I'm just not brave enough to go through with it.  At least until the day I found out my best friend (we'll call her Jane for the protection of all involved) was getting married.  Jane is the most sensible, quiet, level-headed of our gang.  The type of woman any man would kill to bring home to his mother.  So, we decided a wild romp was exactly what she needed.  Being the crafty crew we are, we booked a weekend away (again, no mention of where) and tickets to an all-male revue.  You know, the hot, sexy young men who gyrate in front of you in nothing but a sequined g-string.  Buns of steel and looks to kill. 

Yum. Yum.

Perfectly harmless fun ... or so I thought.

The weekend started out fine until someone (no names, remember?) decided to open the complimentary bottle of wine in our suite (how did that get there, anyway?)  The next thing I knew, we were sitting in the club, being entertained by shiny, buff, extremely-talented young men.  My favorite was the policeman.  His handcuffs were the shiniest.

As he slung his billy club, I felt a nudge beside me.  "Here, Mia."  Jane handed me a twenty.  "I can't do it."  Did I hesitate?  NO!  I took that twenty, marched up to the stage and showed the sexy officer just how much I appreciated his civil service.  Unfortunately, all that gyrating made me dizzy.  Or maybe it was the wine.  Anyway, I excused myself and headed for the ladies room.  Halfway down the hallway, I ran into Sergeant Heartthrob himself, guns-a-blazing.

     "Are you lost?" he asked.
     I hiccuped.  "No.  Are you?"
     He smirked.  "Where are you going?"
     "The ladies room.  It was here the last time I checked."
     "You are lost," he said.  "You're backstage."
     Fire burnt my cheeks (or was that hormones?)  "Oh, God."
     He took me gently by the elbow and nudged me back the way I came, turning left this time instead of right.  I think.  Whatever direction it was I ended up in front of the ladies room.
     "Thank you," I said, desperately wanting to disappear inside.
     He turned to leave, shining his fabulous assets at me.  "No problem.  By the way, thanks for the tip."

The moral of the story:  Tipping a policeman could turn out to be an (cardiac) arresting experience.

Don't forget -- I now have two books available for download at Smashwords !!! Leather, Lace and Rock-N-Roll (http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/87362) and Outspoken Angel (http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/90312)



Quote for the week:  Friends are like bras:  close to your heart and there for support
                                                                                              ---Anonymous


Until next week,

Mia

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