Intense stare,across a dim lit room. Thumping of drum, of bass, off a jukebox full ofancient songs, memories of high school's feverish hunts, memories...forguys who are too many years past high school. Some of them, anyway. Thedance of eyes, a stare, a glance away. Unconsciously, tongue wets alip. Hand touches face. You need the hunger, and, I guess, the spice.Otherwise, a $25 tryst, back in the alley, down in the dunes, is justscratching an itch.Anyway, I'm no mark. And although when I'm feeling. She assured me everything was good and that I should stay and maybe help out if I could. I agreed and offered up drinks as the ladies needed them. Two of the ladies were almost, but not quite, as impressive as Jeanie herself. The others were okay and all were friendly so I settled in. It was not long before all if not most were 3-sheets-to-the-wind and plenty tipsy and becoming louder and bolder as they partied. I noticed no food except for chips and nuts which struck me as too weird as I. More

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