A Dirty Dance At The Road House

It was a grim day outside with clouds creating grey skies and she sat at the bar inside

Alexandra’s which was always was reported in the local paper as a nice place to meet greet while looking sweet.

As the carpenter worked the floor and Garrett clanged around behind the bar, she took another sip out of the coffee cup. “Do you need a shot for that java, Baby,” he inquired putting the glassware on the shelves.

“No, I do not drink, Garrett, you know that,” she barked back as the power tools worked the stage, “and I am not baby either.”

Garrett just chuckled before apologizing, “oh I forgot you do not have a name in this place.”

“I am an unnamable, but I love this craft,”

“A craft?” Garrett smirked.

“Yes, a craft,” she defended her art, “when are they going to be done with the repairs to the stage.”

“By Happy Hour,” Garrett responded.

As the weather outside snuck a peak into the club a lady stepped in with a gym bag and the unnamable went back to sipping her coffee. Without saying a word, the newcomer brushed by the bar and quickly disappeared into the dressing room.

“Who was that?” Garrett asked the empty lounge.

“They say she is a Dubaian,” the bar fly spread the news.

“What does that mean?” Garrett sounded curious

“She is from Dubai, ah duh,”

With all the clean glassware prepared and ready to face getting dirty Garrett came closer to the person with no name.

“I was just curious,” he stretched out his arms.

“She auditioned with a Mambo Dance and after she was finished Alexandra felt that she had to return the favor by hiring her,”

“Do you feel threatened?” Garrett wanted to know if there was backstage tension.

“No,” she firmly stated putting the cup in the saucer before continuing, “that is why we are here to lure men from their aggression then transform that with a soothing sensation that makes them rested.”

“What does that have to do with Dubaian?” Garrett was confused.

“That place is a rich city in Saudi Arabia,” she showed her intelligence when the proprietor to the rural roadside establishment placed the clip board next to the cash register.

It was to Alexandra’s Joy that she showed up on time, “we are doing the right thing, we are showing her rural America and we are all not money hungry pinstripes instead hard-working peaceful people just getting by in this tough economy.”

Seeing the cup was empty the dancer stood up and announced, “well I better get ready.”

Checking her watch Alexandria agreed, “yeah Peace that construction horn is ready to ring, and you know they are horn,” Alexandria stopped right there. “I guess so,” Peace agreed, “those guys like the way I am built.”

Walking to the dressing room she heard Garrett exclaim, “so you do have a name, it is Peace.”

Cutting into the conversation Alexandria politely said, “Of course she has a name, everybody at Alexandria’s has a name.”

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