Sex For Money

"LOSTBOYS" was a seedy waterfront bar I had no business being in, yet here I was for the second week in a row. Seated at the bar nursing a watered-down martini, pretending to listen to the vapid disco that spewed forth from an ancient juke box. I checked my watch for the tenth time in as many minutes as the hands slowly ticked away time I would never get back. Soon the “boys” would come dancing out of the back room like wound-up geishas, instead of the coked up go-go boys they were. With as much fuss as any diva, they would tease and play with their regulars while making their way onto the top of the bar, each corner becoming their personal stage.