An Imagined Conversation

"Hello, welcome to Satin Dolls Gentlemenses' Club. It'll be ten bucks."

"Okay."

"Enjoy the show. The girls have almost started howlin'."

"Howlin'?! I came for the humpin', actually."

"No. Humpin' ended at 6pm. We've just started the all nite howlin'."

"But it's 5:50."

"Yeah, the girls need ten minutes to clean up from all the humpin' before they get started on the howlin'. So you're catching them pretty much between shows."

"So there's no more humpin'."

"That's what I said. No humpin' until 6am tomorrow, when the new shift begins. If you want humpin', I'm afraid you're going to have to come back tomorrow."

"Wouldn't it make more sense to do the howlin' during the day and the humpin' at night, when more men are likely to stop in?"

"I don't make the rules, chief."

"Is there a manager I can speak to?"

"Look, fella. The only manager here is working the kitchen right now, preparing the profiteroles and apple tarte tatin."

"Apple tarte tatin?! Jesus, what kind of hoedown is this supposed to be?"

"A fucking classy one, motherfucker. You have a problem with classy, then just go across the street to Headliners, where their skanks will hump you anytime but their beignets are pretty much made from frozen."

"Ew, gross."

"Be my guest, motherfucker. I warned you."

"Well, I guess I could go for 12 hours of straight up howlin'."

"That's the spirit!"