JANE CALLED A car, and we pulled up to the Stallions Club in a gleaming white Cadillac. A bouncer/valet/footman came to our passenger door and opened it for us. Under his black shirt and black pants, you could tell this guy had major muscles. I mean, he had deep indentations where the in-between muscle parts were. This guy was a stripper, too, right? He had to be.
“Welcome to the Stallions. My name is Carlos.” He rolled his R a long time, which made his name sound both sexy and comical. A weird combo, but I liked it.
Jane and I tugged Candace out of the back seat. Now that she was further along in her pregnancy, little things like pulling herself out of a bucket seat were no longer trivial.
“Thanks for the assistance!” Candace smoothed out the back of her skirt. We all entered the venue exuding a direct representation of our personalities. Jane walked in like she owned the fucking place. I looked around guiltily, like a teenager who sneaked out of the bedroom window to go see a strip show with a fake ID, and Candace, well, she just giggled at everything. The cheesy dance music, the steamy hot hosts, and S&M-themed decor caused her to erupt into hyperventilating giggles. Was enough oxygen getting to the baby?
This was my first strip club outing and I had no idea what was supposed to happen. Jane whispered something to the host, and he smiled. “Yes, please come this way to the VIP room.”
“Don’t worry, it’s on me,” Jane said coolly.
I asked, “Why do you look so at ease here?”
She laughed and tossed her hair back. “All the guys I work with go to strip clubs. Sometimes I need to go, too, because we’re entertaining clients, or someone gets promoted and the team’s congratulatory outing is at a strip joint. At first it felt icky and uncomfortable, but now I’m desensitized to all this. Think of it as a show, and these guys here are all actors.”
“Really hot, muscular, sexy actors,” Candace squeaked. Pipe down, horny preggo girl!
“Speaking of actors, remember, the goal for tonight is to hire some of these guys to be cosplayers. We’re not here to . . . engage.”
Jane said, “Right. Hire strippers to play strippers at your nerdy trade show. Got it. Let’s hurry up and go to the VIP room! They’ll have the hotter guys there who know what they are doing. They put the more inexperienced guys on the main floor.”
My purse vibrated. A new text alert from Nolan. You at work? Order dinner?
I replied immediately. Nope, long story, will explain later. I’m at a strip club. Please don’t ask.
Jane looked over my shoulder and then smacked my arm. Hard. “Who’s thaaaaat?”
I shook my head. “Just a coworker. You need to focus. I need to recruit people for the show, remember?”
Candace nodded. “And in case your coworker is maybe more than just a coworker, you don’t want to look desperate by being so available.”
“Like a hooker with no clients,” Jane added, raising her drink. Thanks, Jane.
“You both are reading too much into this,” I said, shaking my head.
The host bypassed the central area by taking us down a lengthy hallway. Dark red velvet walls lined the corridor, giving this place a sensual, almost carnal vibe. It looked a little bit too much like traveling down someone’s birth canal.
I shouted above the music, “Remember to look for friendly, approachable types.”
The VIP room looked smaller than what I had imagined. The decor was minimalistic, like a fancy IKEA modern living room, but with black couches and red walls. The music didn’t make the walls vibrate in here, but I still had to yell over it at times.
A six-foot, blond, European waiter with zero percent body fat walked in, wearing only a red thong.
“Oh wow,” Candace yelped. Oh wow, indeed.
“Where do you guys put your name tags?” I asked.
He winked at me. “I’m Marco. Don’t worry, you will not forget my name.”
Jane, Candace, and I exchanged looks and burst out into laughter. If I wasn’t such a fish out of water here, like if this was a regular dance club, I could actually see myself drinking with my girls and having a good time. But it wasn’t a regular ol’ club. How had I conceived a game centered around characters like Marco, someone I was so utterly awkward around?
Jane asked, “Mel, you’re looking for someone friendly and approachable, right?” She grabbed a black VIP menu off the side table.
“Are you ordering drinks? I need a ginger ale.” Candace yawned. She was fading quickly. We needed to move things along fast.
“Not yet.” She waved Marco over. “We want one classic cocktail, maybe an Old-Fashioned. Clean. And maybe to spice things up, one dirty, DIRTY martini.”
“Hey, you didn’t order my ginger ale!” Candace whimpered.
Jane focused on the door. “I’ll order that in a minute,” she answered distractedly as she looked down at her watch. She muttered to herself, “We’ll see if they’re as hot as Marco.”
Marco reappeared, with two strapping men right behind him. Hottie number one, dressed as a (hot!) cowboy, had an all-American, clean-cut yummy type of look to him. He had a lasso, too. Hottie number two was dressed in a modified tuxedo. He was hot in a Miami sensual summer sort of way. He oozed dirty sex. They came over and introduced themselves.
“I’m Dan.” Cowboy tipped his hat. Oooh, it suddenly got a little steamy in here.
Dirty Sex said, “My name is Paul.” He grabbed Candace’s hand and kissed it. She blushed so hard I thought her water might break right there on the floor of the VIP room.
I looked at Jane. “These guys are perfect. How did you . . .”
She waved the menu in my face. “I ordered them.”
“You WHAT?” I looked over at Candace, to shoot her a look of can you believe her? but she was too busy flirting with Paul. Paul was a much better stimulant than ginger ale. Who would have expected to see a woman carrying a cauliflower-head-size baby flirt so hard with a stripper? I needed a drink. Desperately.
Jane tossed her hair back. “Well, at the fancy strip clubs we go to for work, they have these menus where you can use innuendo to request a type of stripper to come to you. Usually they’re drink menus, so you might order a tall White Russian if you want, well, a tall White Russian. One time I went to a dessert-themed strip club and they likened types of women to ice cream flavors. So fucking weird, right?”
This whole thing was weird. But I couldn’t help wondering what kind of “order” I would give for Nolan. A bourbon, neat? A Gold Rush? Maybe Whiskey Smash?
Melody, stop thinking about Nolan and smashing. Stop it.
No one in my entourage seemed to remember why we were there, including me, so I took charge and handed Paul and Dan my business card. “Gentlemen, no stripping required today. I have a well-paying job for you two, and it will be fun and worth your time, I promise. Call me tomorrow.”
Paul eyed Candace up and down and said, “Count me in.”
Dan tipped his hat in agreement, and Paul followed him out of the room. Candace giggled and bit her lip. “Where do you think they put their business cards?”
Jane sat back into the couch. “Well, you got your cosplayers, and I got some killer ideas for my bachelorette party.” She ordered the overdue ginger ale and handed Marco a hundred-dollar bill, which he rolled up and put in his thong. The lack of pockets didn’t stop Marco from collecting cash in his crotch bank. Maybe he had a hidden slot for business cards, too. As we left the club, I wondered what Marco did with spare change.
Chapter Sixteen
My friend Nick Cabot was the first person I called to help with the game trailer. He had just moved back to Seattle after working at an ad agency in London for two years and had some time to take on this freelance video project. Hooray!
Ziiiiiiip. Nick talked to me while opening boxes with an X-Acto knife. “Mel, darling, the only games you and I REALLY enjoy playing are those junky time wasters on our phones.” Ziiiiiiip. “Are you still playing Candy Casino? And that ridiculous one where you fling rubbish at the British aristocracy?” Nick had been my boss and mentor at my previous job, and he had started a new ad agency in the SoDo district. They had a few local clients, but their main source of revenue came from creating trailers for independent films.
“No, I’m not addicted to those anymore, thank you very much. Anyway, I really think your video experience making gorgeous film trailers will be perfect for this assignment.” His design aesthetic and promotional sensibilities would work well for this game trailer. I proceeded to tell him about Ultimate Apocalypse.
He laughed before I could finish. “I love how ridiculous the premise is. And it sounds so fun. Okay, so the goal is to create buzz around the game? Well, I know we can do that. I can do the storyboards and trailer rough cuts and edits, but can you help with writing copy? We’re a little short-staffed in that area. I also need to know what high-res game images and video assets you have available.” We spent another thirty minutes talking about budgets and the three-week turnaround. I also mentioned he would have real-life male strippers to use for green screen filming at his disposal.
“It’s a tight timeline, I’m not gonna lie. But I’m excited! I’ve never been briefed on such an absurd project in my entire life,” Nick said, laughing so hard he actually choked.