The domes of the building once known as the Booby Trap pointed skyward for more than 40 years. But while the original owner had some last-minute thoughts of salvaging part of the building—two parts of it, anyway—a bulldozer finally put an end to the party, knocking down the former adult club in Winter Park on Wednesday.
–Orlando Sentinel, 2/11/15
Kevin’s car always had little lights on in the small place between the speedometer and tachometer. One was a little engine, and the other looked like an eight on its side. We had left Wekiwa Springs because it was getting dark, and we were down to just one 32oz beer. Kevin was driving with one hand on the wheel and the other around the neck of the bottle between his legs.
“You know that sinkhole over on Denning in Winter Park?” he said.
“I didn’t know there was a sinkhole on Denning,” I said.
“One day in ’81,” Kevin continued, “fucking ground opened right up and swallowed a house, a pool, and a Porsche dealership.”
“I like Porsches,” I said. I started thinking about my favorite Porsche, a red 928. They were expensive.
“They busted the dude who owned the car place trying to pull those Porches out of the water with a tow truck in the middle of the night.”
“That is weird,”I said. “Why would he do something so weird?”
“There was cocaine in those cars.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. That made sense. People like cocaine.
“Fucking cocaine,” said Kevin. He flexed his fingers hard against the steering wheel and they made a little squeaky sound. “If I could get some goddamned scuba gear, I tell you what I’d do. I’d get down in there and get me some of that Porsche cocaine.”
“But you don’t have any scuba gear,” I said, and looked out the window at all the plazas.
“If I did…well, that sure would be something,” said Kevin. He took a big drink of his beer, and then wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve.
“I need to see some girlies shake their asses,” he said. “We’re going to the Booby Trap.”
The Booby Trap was a club with two knocker-shaped domes that you could see from the highway. It wasn’t actually called the Booby Trap anymore. It was open Tuesdays.
Kevin parked out back by the fence. He didn’t like his car to be right up front.
Inside, the air was sweaty and hot. It was thick, and it made my throat tickle. There were only a few people inside. There was a group of cops all huddled around one table. A girl was dancing near their table, looking sort of confused. The bartender was checking her cell phone. Another girl was at the end of the bar wearing short shorts and a glittery cowboy hat, playing video poker.
“I’m gonna get a girlie,” said Kevin, surveying the room.
“Alright, let’s go find a girlie,” I said, but Kevin shook his head.
“I think I should go by myself. Why don’t you go over there?” Kevin pointed to an empty booth on the other side of the bar.
I sat down in the empty booth and thought really angry thoughts about Kevin. He never considered what I wanted. He always did what he wanted. Maybe I wanted to talk to girlies. He didn’t care.
“You don’t look like you’re having any fun, honey.”
A lady was leaning over the back of the booth. She was wearing silk.
“I’m fine. It’s really nice in here. All the strippers look very hot.”
“Mmm. You like hot strippers?”
“Yes,” I said, “I like hot strippers a lot. My friend Kevin is over there, and he and I both like hot strippers.”
“I’m not worried about your friend Kevin,” said the lady, winding her way around the booth. She stood in front of me and pulled a cigarette out from the pocket of her silk robe and lit it. “Tell me what you like.”
“I like it when…” I said, and tried to think of something really hot.
She pressed her boobs together.
“Do you like those?”
“Yeah, they’re really good.”
“Mmm. How about this?” She lifted her light garment and showed me her backside.
“Yeah, that’s good too.”
She swayed in place, which made me think I was supposed to say something.
“My friend Kevin really likes it when a girl shakes it right in his face,” I said. “I’m allergic to cigarettes.”
“Tell me more about Kevin,” she said, tapping her ashes away.
I coughed. “Well, Kevin and I are really good friends, and he brought me here tonight so we could look at hot strippers, and…”
“You like girls, right?”
I nodded. She sat down next to me and placed her cigarette between her lips.
“I think I know what you’d like,” she said, and put her hand on my upper thigh. She felt around. “Hmm,” she said, rubbing up and down. “You’re packin’ heat, honey.”
“That’s my inhaler,” I said.
“Oh,” she said, and moved her hand to the other side. “What about that?”
“Oh, that is…” I said.
“I know what that is,” she said.
“Oh,” I said.
She moved her hand up and down against it, and looked over her shoulder at the bar. She shifted her cigarette between her fingers. “Don’t tell no one I did this, alright?”
I nodded, maybe. It was hard to think. I was feeling warm, and sort of good and itchy all over. She was rubbing, and I was licking my lips like you’re supposed to.
It felt so good, and I was feeling excited.
Then I sneezed really hard. It was right at her.
She was looking down at her tube top, which was all wet. I was pretty embarrassed.
“Sorry I sneezed on your titties,” I said.
Then I got up and looked around. Kevin was waving at me from over by the bar, so I walked over to him.
“Check out that girl,” he said, pointing to the girl on the stage. She was rubbing her backside on a big plastic pole. “She’s an adjunct at SCC! I’m going to the champagne room with a professor! Right after this dance!” Kevin was really smiling, and soon I was smiling, too.
We were both smiling together.
This story first appeared in the Burrow anthology 15 views of Orlando.