Before I can say anything, his mate joins him with a long lick to his chest and a grind straight from Christina Aguilera's "Dirty" video. Trust me, it's not quite the same when the two people are not 20 and over-the-top beautiful. But, like a train wreck, I can't shift my gaze.
Fortunately, just in time to quell my vomit reflex, the gentleman breaks away, still panting, and orders a vodka tonic. He doesn't stop gyrating his hips while wiping copious amounts of sweat from his forehead. His dance partner goes back to the main dance floor, allowing him an extra minute with me. I tell him that he owes me $6.50. He stops the hip motions justlong enough to pull out his wallet, and then tells me he's always wanted to be a pole dancer.
"Really?"
I ask him what he does now, and he replies that he's a mortgage broker. In the current market, pole dancing might not be such a bad sport to take up, I tell him. I wonder if he's been caught grinding on the bus stop sign while waiting for the number two, or been asked to leave playgrounds after dry humping the pole on the jungle gym. Maybe that's what led him to brokering mortgages.
The Grind
Muddle four mint leaves
One splash of mint bitters
2 oz of vodka
2 oz of lime juice
1.5 oz of simple syrup
Stir it with a long stick and top with soda water.
