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Rabbit's Tale of NYC Rabbit Rated PG Kids don't read. I know your parents.I'm writing this tale in the first person because it's easier and the narative goes a bit smoother. It is a true story which did not happen to me. The names have been changed and it's been digitized for the Aether World where anything is possible. New York City is a wonderful tattered old town. Filled with friendly people. The beauty of it's women has been renouned for millinea. In fact the root of the word "gorgeous" stems from the Latin word for NYC Babe. To my eyes there was nothing more enticing than seeing a tall blonde with stiletto high heals, yacking on her cell phone, in full stride on the street. She gave a fat man the elbow to the ribs for getting in her way. That was all I needed to see. She's kindred. I was in love. I tried catch up to her to talk but she was in a taxi and down the road before I could. Yea, New York is a great place full of life, light, laughter and love. It's also full of mayhem, murder, miscreants and misfits but that's another tale. Remains of civilization are still seen everywhere. Wayne and I were in town for a poet's convention. Contrary to popular belief poets can be quite roudy. Having been barred from several hotels for drunken debautchery and fighting with tourists we had to settle on the Hotel Chelsea. A venerable old hotel and veteran of many punch ups, furniture sacrifices, suicides and creative calamities. The perfect place. We decided to get some rest before heading out for a friday night of inner soul searching and exploration. In other words we were going to find some women. I settled in my room on the 7th floor, munched the last of the venison sandwiches I had brought from the mountain and took a nap. Up by 6 pm, clean, dressed up I stopped by Wayne's room to grab him and hit the streets. Most of the other poets were going to a hexameter contest with a DJ scratching Schubert and Brahams records. These are usually fighting events but I was trying to avoid more fights. Wayne didn't want to go because his wife took his 9mm away from him after he shot 14 of the cat lady next door's cats accidentally putting a hole in the block of a Volvo two blocks away. She's not easily amused. Hey, it was a tourist's car. You'd think she'd give him a break. We got to the lobby and some of the other poets were already into their cups. Not a good sign. Peter (Squirrel) Prescupp the perennial trouble maker was arguing with Harold Harbourraker over who made the best use of dipthongs. Peter is a little guy but he fights like a squirrel. He is a leading figure in the arythmic movement whose followers believe that poems should have no rythum, should not rhyme and should have no meaning. Needless to say his work is interesting. The Texas Tranvestors Group of transvestite poets was boning up on their hexameter cut lines in the corner. Members of this group vie with members of Squirrel's group to see which can win the most contests. The Tranvestors like to taunt Squirrel by crying "Squirrle's nuts on the wall." when they win. Squirrel wil respond with some witty repost like "Screw you bitch wanna bes." and the fight is on. I didn't even get to enjoy the last one. All I know is that some transvestite screamed "Gonna cut you bitch." on the other side of the room then it was lights out because someone hit me in the head with a potato chip bowl. When I came to it was kind of dim but I remember several people laying on the floor, some moaning. I have a vivid image of a bloody strawberry blonde wig in a puddle of whiskey and glass. Next to that was a beret with two incisors laying in it. I wanted no part of that tonight. Wayne and I wanted bootay and bootay we were going to have. We started out at a restaurant around the corner from the hotel. Wayne was in a funny mood which concerned me because when his timing is on and he feels good he draws women. When he doesn't feel good he does the oposite and they run from him. We had some good poet's food (steak and gin). Wayne had been bugging the waitress and I could tell she was not amused. He told her the old gladiator joke and she spilled a drink into his lap. "Damn Wayne. We ain't going to get no bootay if you keep this up." He apologised, said he would be good and he was for awhile. We paid and went to "The Southern Dog Leg" bar. A famous hangout for the avant garde'. We hooked up with a couple of beautiful ladies from Europe. I saw them first and went over to talk. Two fit blondes, one from Russia and the other Roumanian. Man what luck. I introduced them to Wayne, we found a table and really hit it off. I gave Wane the signal under the table that ment I was going for the Russian. Her piercing blue eyes were killing me. We made the usual small talk, drank some alcohol then Wayne started with his jokes. I kicked him under the table but the girls were laughing. The jokes were getting dirtier and the girls were laughing harder. I thought we were in. Good time to take a piss. In the bathroom I was thinking about that Russian and what I was going to do with her. I finished up and went back to find caos. Everyone was scampering around. I soon found the reason why. The table and drinks were in Wayne's lap and Wayne was on the floor, girls nowhere to be seen. Damn it Wayne. What the hell happened?" "It was that last joke." He replied. So that's how we wound up at The Most Erotic in New York. I was going to get something even if it was hand work in a backroom. The pictures of the women on the marque were fine looking. My mind was starting to wander. Wayne said" You wanna check it out? Maybe we can get a happy ending." "Sure." I said so we stepped up to the attendant flipped him 50 bucks each and in we went. Down a long dark hallway with lots of doors. A guy came with us and showed Wayne and I into seperate small rooms each with a round table, CD player, a couple of chairs and nothing else. The room probably hadn't been painted in twenty years and a particular odor hung in the air. I barely got a look around when the door opened and a beautiful black haired girl came in and introduced herself as Raven. Tall and slim with a round face and large brown eyes. A couple of tribal tatoos just above her black bra and a gargoyle on her left arm. She had large breasts. Her panties I could see under her sarong matched her bra. Her long black hair was the killer. It shimmered and shined in the light from the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. It was obvious she was proud of it and took good care of it. She reminded me of a white Sheba. Raven asked my name and where I was from and I told her. She let me know that other service might be provided at the end of the show for additional cost, then she threw on some music. Swaying to the music she started removing her bra. Slow and methodical her body moved with that fluid grace that only a dancer has. I watched her hypnotically. She looked me right in the eyes as she removed her bra to reveal the most perfectly shaped breasts. Man she really had it. I was getting hard and thinking about which "extras" I was going to try after the strip tease. She was reaching for her waist, hips moving. I was captivated. The world melted as she removed that sarong. Now only the panties to go and I was really ready for it. She was moving. I was looking at her crotch, her belly, her eyes and the shapes she was making with her mouth, her hair swinging. "Are you ready for a surprize?" she asked as she tucked her thumbs into her panties and turned her back to me. "Yea I'm really ready." Where upon she pulled down her drawers, turned around and "WHAP" slamed the biggest wanger I'd ever seen in my life down on the table. I couldn't believe my eyes. She was hung like a horse. The look on my face must have been something to see. My brain stopped working. I couldn't take my eyes off that schlong. Next thing I know two guys came into the room saying "Is everything alright? There's not going to be any trouble is there?" "Everything's alright." I heard someone say before I realized it was me. "How do I get out of here?" They showed me the door and I walked down that long hall feeling lonlier than I did coming in. When I got ouside Wayne was there shaking like a leaf, furriously smoking a cigarette. "Rabbit" he said "You'll never believe what just happened to me." Copyright Lon Marshall 2008 |