and charge me $2500, or who knows. The skinny Rachel's pro was not a free spirit, it was some kind of pro scheme. So I told her I was going home, I still had that virus. The last thing she tried was she gave me a hug. I hid on the other side of the car door, but she leaned her head over. That is what she later said her manager at Rachel's trained her to do, many many years ago. It's a hooker thing, when guys try to leave. Some guys are so instinctive, when they smell that shampoo hair smell, or that girl smell, they can't think straight. And they will do anything. So the hug is a way to hook guys who respond to scent, regardless if it is the ugliest girl in the world. The next time I remember going to Rachel's was a year later. I was way south down Orange Avenue expecting to pick up a motorcycle. But the guy wouldn’t take my price or thought my money was fake or I was shady. I thought I have a better idea. I can take the bus home that goes right past Rachel’s. I can stop in and see if there are any girls there. And I can hang out and drink as much as I want, because I'm not driving. It's not that I like to get drunk. It was the accumulated stress of years of drink minimums, and driving to four different clubs a night in Miami. So I got off the bus and went into Rachel's, and there was only that same skinny airport pro from a year earlier. She was with her friend who was hot, and I will leave it at that to not insult anyone. I gave them each a $50 bill to make sure Rachel's girls wouldn’t forget me, and I left as soon as the next bus was supposed to come in 30 minutes. The next day I texted her, and she said the manager fired her. I said what manager? She said "Big John" or "Big Tim" or something. She acted like he was the king of town and I was supposed to recognize the name. I don’t know what she got fired for. She and the manager argued about something. But I don’t doubt it started with me giving her and her friend $50 each and leaving. It made it look to anybody like we knew each other outside the club, and I only came in for a minute to make the arrangement. And he was a jealous manager and he wasn’t getting his cut. It probably ended with her being almost 30. This girl had been at Rachel's forever. She had been giving blowjobs for money to guys she met at the club since she was 18. She had been drinking too much and breaking her phone and talking shit in the club for years and it was never a problem. But I guess she was too old for the manager to take blowjobs as payment any more, so after however many years she was gone. Another strange thing is she asked why I left Rachel's on foot the previous day. She didn't specifically say on foot, she asked where I went when I walked out the door. I didn't get into any car in the parking lot, I walked north up Orange Avenue to the bus stop. She couldn't have seen outside from where I left her and her friend sitting, or from anywhere in the club. So somebody must have been stalking me in the parking lot or on camera. Rachel's had pretty much the same girls as a year earlier. So I continued going to Cabaret Intemationale day shift, where I could get in for free, and there were new girls passing through every week. I wish I knew how to contact some of those girls today, because I really liked them. Sometimes I see fat women in Walmart, and I imagine that's who the girls passing through Cabaret Intemationale grew up to be. This was right around when Shawn Gladd, the manager, got murdered up the block from Dollhouse. He was the last person who remembered me, from when I first became a regular at Cabaret Internationale. II-18