John's back! John is the manager of a local strip club on Long Island ( see my March 10, 2009 entry for an earlier Valentine's Day story).
"Kerry, will you go to Atlantic City this Friday night?"
"John, it's Wednesday! I need more notice. That's a 3 1/2 hour drive down and a 3 1/2 hour drive back!"
"Well, technically," he says, "late-Thursday night after midnight is Friday, so can you go down tomorrow night after midnight?"
"You want me to deliver after midnight? What is she, a stripper?"
(dramatic pause) "Yeah," John says.
<aw jeeze>......."Alright," I said, "Let me clear it with the club and make sure it's cool for a chicken to sing onstage with a bunch of strippers. There might be rules against that!"
I called the club manager, who couldn't believe what I wanted to do. He didn't even know it was the girl's Birthday. But he was pretty excited about it. He told me to give him a head's up call when I'm about half hour away and he'll make sure she's dancing onstage.
So I call John back to tell him he couldn't afford what I need for this job, because it's at least a seven hour drive round-trip and more than half of that time is after midnight. I wouldn't get back to Long Island until about 4:30 AM.
John doesn't flinch at the price and then offers that he's going to come down to Atlantic City to see it; not because he doesn't trust me. No, he really wants to see the look on her face when a chicken is singing to her in the middle of her dance.
John ends up leaving for Atlantic City about two hours before me and is calling me constantly on my cell phone, giving me traffic updates; my own personal Shadow Traffic report!
I arrive in Atlantic City around 11:30 PM and stop at a Dunkin' Donuts for coffee. I haven't been there since the late-70's, when my wife and I were in college and she was doing summer stock just outside of Atlantic City and it was just beginning it's renaissance. My, my, my -- how the place has changed! But still, one block away from all the glamour and glitz , it's still pretty seedy.
I call the club; they're all ready for me. "Come on down!" the manager says. "Everybody's here!"
When I arrive, it's like a welcoming committee. The music stops and I step out onto the stage. It wasn't exactly like the singing telegram in the Jeff Bridges film, "The Fisher King", but you could hear the proverbial pin drop. Nikki and I are all alone on stage.
Suddenly, Nikki becomes very aware that she's naked. I'm singing to her, and she's trying to cover herself with her arms. Nowhere to run. I'm blocking the only exit she has. I take my sweet time singing, even grabbed the pole at one point and twirled around it. Some drunk patron took a wad of dollar bills and stuffed it into my chicken costume!
It was all over way too soon for my liking. Of course, for Nikki, it was an eternity. The club erupts with everyone hootin' and hollerin' and singing Happy Birthday to Nikki.
And it wouldn't be proper to leave without hugging the Birthday girl; something I ALWAYS do! I'm sure it felt just as good for her, as it did for me. At least she was covered now!
John's sitting with his bucket of beer bottles on ice, grinning ear-to-ear, enjoying the whole thing. I change quickly and go back in to say goodbye to John, who gives me a nice fat tip to boot; icing on the cake!
I arrive back on Long Island, just as the sun is rising in the east.......it was so surreal. You couldn't wipe that smile off my face for days!
Kerry
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