The
Men in the Mirror *
We
took seats around the stage, where the women could get right down in front of
us. They danced so close we could smell them, musky beneath their perfume, so close
we could see the sheen of perspiration on their thighs. They grabbed us by our
shirt collars and rubbed their breasts in our faces. They bent double and smiled
between long, muscular legs. They pulled g-strings aside so Jack, Bill, and
Gene—nice guys just looking for a little fun—could slip a dollar inside. They
squatted over our faces and snatched fives from our teeth—Lisa from Dixon,
Debbie from Mishawaka, and Mae from Chicago—nice girls just trying to make a
living. They pirouetted and gyrated, teased and taunted on a stage swept by
strobe lights. We drank beer and smoked, rolled up our sleeves and joked. Behind
the stage, a mirrored wall reflected the faces of the strangers in the
room—bored and beaten women grinding for slack-jawed men, men desperate for
love and recognition behind their jokes and drunkenness. Now and then, we
winked, raised a glass, and waved, and the men in the mirror waved back.
CP
Gary V. Powell is a retired lawyer.
His work has appeared in Bartleby
Snopes, Literary Orphans, Thrice Fiction, Connotation Press, and other fine
places. His first novel, Lucky
Bastard, released in December 2012, is available through Main Street
Rag Press at http://www.mainstreetrag.com/GPowell.html.
* The Men in the Mirror is a 2014 Editor's Favorite
* The Men in the Mirror is a 2014 Editor's Favorite
2 comments:
Terrific story. Thanks, Gary, And, thanks, Barry for publishing it.
this was such a realistic snapshot into that seedy world that men enjoy (some men). frankly, I don't get it but I'm not a man. Or a lap dancer. Gary Powell did one hell of a job writing this with no fluff or frills to soften the heat.
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