in her face, and laughing at Bell as she sized each man up with a critical eye. She was almost analytical about the whole thing.
Eventually, the strippers started to spread out a little. And then the stage show began in earnest, taking our focus to the four men in police uniforms who were dancing and slowly pulling off each piece of clothing.
Jack had been sitting quietly beside me through the whole thing. I’d almost forgotten he was there. I looked over and saw that the poor guy was trying to avert his eyes, his hand hovering over his eyebrows.
“I bet you wish Mike and Tak had decided not to go to that show,” I said to him, leaning over in my seat.
“God, yes.”
“This job is not like the others you’ve had, I’m guessing.”
“Oh, they usually involve strip clubs,” he said. “Just not this kind.”
I looked over to see what Baby and Bell were up to. Baby was engaged in a deep conversation with a stripper. No ass-shaking, no lap dance. She was actually talking to the guy. Bell had befriended some future bride at her bachelorette party and was over at their table talking to the girls.
I turned back to Jack. “Must be a fun gig, being a tour manager?”
“I like it. And, believe it or not, it’s the only job I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Well, aside from the bakery.”
“Your grandparents’ bakery?”
“Yeah, I started working there as soon as I could walk. I did just about every job there was to do. But by fourteen, I’d figured out that I was into planning, organization, numbers, that kind of thing. My grandpa, he sucked at it, and my grandma wasn’t interested in it. So I took over a lot of the business parts of the company.”
“At fourteen?”
“Yep.”
“You sound like my brother, Sam. He started making investments at that age – investments that ended up resulting in millions of dollars. Freakin’ child prodigies.”
A tall, greased-up stripper approached me and stuck his crotch in my face. Jack leaned away from us. I stuck a couple bucks in the guy’s G string and slapped his ass. When he left, I turned back to Jack. He was holding his face in his hands.
“So you don’t mind the objectification of women, just men,” I needled him.
“No, I mind that much more. But at least they are pleasant to look at.”
I didn’t know what to make of that comment. So I deflected. “So the bakery, then what?”
“I went to college.”
“Where?”
“Wayne State.” He shrugged. “It was close by, so I could still live at home and help Grandpa out.”
“God, you are a Boy Scout,” I groaned.
“I got my first tour manager gig my sophomore year in college.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah, it was just a state-wide tour, mind you, but I did well.”
“I’m sure.”
“It led to other gigs. By the time I graduated, I had ‘em lined up.”
“You’re one of those guys. Everything just drops in your lap. Like Sam. Shit, and Sean, too.”
“Not you, huh?”
“Hell no.”
Growing up in the middle of two successful brothers had been tough on me. Some people might have tried harder to be successful themselves. Others might have given up and just embraced failure, realizing they couldn’t compete. But I did neither. I rolled through life with a balance of effort occasionally punctuation by not giving a rat’s ass.
“I hate to point this out while you’re having a pity-party, but you are very accomplished. You’ve been in some highly revered plays. And unlike a lot of stage actors, you didn’t have a slump, ever. Things went well for you right out of school.”
“Until recently. Hey, how do you know so much about me?”
He shrugged and took a sip of his beer.
“No, really?”
“I’m very good at my job.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Before a tour, I check everybody out.”
“Like internet stalk them?”
“Pretty much.”
“Everybody?”
“All the band members, any girlfriends or wives.”
“And any random sisters they drag
Eventually, the strippers started to spread out a little. And then the stage show began in earnest, taking our focus to the four men in police uniforms who were dancing and slowly pulling off each piece of clothing.
Jack had been sitting quietly beside me through the whole thing. I’d almost forgotten he was there. I looked over and saw that the poor guy was trying to avert his eyes, his hand hovering over his eyebrows.
“I bet you wish Mike and Tak had decided not to go to that show,” I said to him, leaning over in my seat.
“God, yes.”
“This job is not like the others you’ve had, I’m guessing.”
“Oh, they usually involve strip clubs,” he said. “Just not this kind.”
I looked over to see what Baby and Bell were up to. Baby was engaged in a deep conversation with a stripper. No ass-shaking, no lap dance. She was actually talking to the guy. Bell had befriended some future bride at her bachelorette party and was over at their table talking to the girls.
I turned back to Jack. “Must be a fun gig, being a tour manager?”
“I like it. And, believe it or not, it’s the only job I’ve ever had.”
“Really?”
“Well, aside from the bakery.”
“Your grandparents’ bakery?”
“Yeah, I started working there as soon as I could walk. I did just about every job there was to do. But by fourteen, I’d figured out that I was into planning, organization, numbers, that kind of thing. My grandpa, he sucked at it, and my grandma wasn’t interested in it. So I took over a lot of the business parts of the company.”
“At fourteen?”
“Yep.”
“You sound like my brother, Sam. He started making investments at that age – investments that ended up resulting in millions of dollars. Freakin’ child prodigies.”
A tall, greased-up stripper approached me and stuck his crotch in my face. Jack leaned away from us. I stuck a couple bucks in the guy’s G string and slapped his ass. When he left, I turned back to Jack. He was holding his face in his hands.
“So you don’t mind the objectification of women, just men,” I needled him.
“No, I mind that much more. But at least they are pleasant to look at.”
I didn’t know what to make of that comment. So I deflected. “So the bakery, then what?”
“I went to college.”
“Where?”
“Wayne State.” He shrugged. “It was close by, so I could still live at home and help Grandpa out.”
“God, you are a Boy Scout,” I groaned.
“I got my first tour manager gig my sophomore year in college.”
“No shit?”
“Yeah, it was just a state-wide tour, mind you, but I did well.”
“I’m sure.”
“It led to other gigs. By the time I graduated, I had ‘em lined up.”
“You’re one of those guys. Everything just drops in your lap. Like Sam. Shit, and Sean, too.”
“Not you, huh?”
“Hell no.”
Growing up in the middle of two successful brothers had been tough on me. Some people might have tried harder to be successful themselves. Others might have given up and just embraced failure, realizing they couldn’t compete. But I did neither. I rolled through life with a balance of effort occasionally punctuation by not giving a rat’s ass.
“I hate to point this out while you’re having a pity-party, but you are very accomplished. You’ve been in some highly revered plays. And unlike a lot of stage actors, you didn’t have a slump, ever. Things went well for you right out of school.”
“Until recently. Hey, how do you know so much about me?”
He shrugged and took a sip of his beer.
“No, really?”
“I’m very good at my job.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Before a tour, I check everybody out.”
“Like internet stalk them?”
“Pretty much.”
“Everybody?”
“All the band members, any girlfriends or wives.”
“And any random sisters they drag
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