The music was too loud, the other women were too rowdy, and the young men waiting tables were not wearing enough clothes. Actually, other than a flimsy little pouch held on with elastic strings, they weren’t wearing any clothes. The bulging maleness those skimpy holsters contained bobbed along while the men who sported them navigated serving trays and pitchers of sloshing beer through an obstacle course of tables and butt‑pinching women.
I can’t believe I let Midge talk me into coming here, Catlin chided herself.
She didn’t want to seem an absolute prude to her bolder but younger sister, but everywhere Catlin looked, another overstuffed male crotch would come waggling into view. So, finding few havens for modest eyes, she decided to focus her attention on the room itself, which would have been a curiosity even without the nearly naked men.
Although faded and out-dated, the spacious room almost certainly had once been the lobby of quite a luxurious old hotel. Tall walls reached to a lofty ceiling on three sides, but high on the back wall there was a balconied hallway that once accessed the hotel’s finest suites. Its ornate banisters looked elegant even in their dull disrepair.
Built in 1922, the Grand Merlaine was planned to be the most lavish hotel in the city. Brainchild of business partners Henri Merlain and Cecil Buxworth, no expense was spared. The famed architect Gustav Szarboczy was commissioned to give the hotel a traditional European feel, and the granite was imported from Norway. On the day of it's opening, the Grand Merlaine was declared to be the most impressive erection ever--
"And something for you, Ma'am?"
Catlin was dragged from her historical reverie by a scrotum. Actually, the crotch, uncomfortably at eye level, wasn't talking; the voice came from the too-boyish face floating somewhere above it.
"Wha- Uh?" Catlin stumbled.
"Something to drink, Ma'am?"
"Oh." Catlin flushed and tried to avoid looking at the waiter's pouch. The last thing she needed was to get herself drunk in this place. "Tea," she said. "Just a cup of tea."
"Tea," the waiter repeated. "Sure, we can do that."
Catlin smiled in the general direction of his face.
"We only have bags, though."
"Y'know, forget it. I have to leave, anyway."
Opening: James.....Continuation: anon.