There's a club I visit once in a while, and there's a dancer there named Eve. She's unconventionally alluring, and part of her allure is that I think she genuinely doesn't give a rat's ass about what most people think about her. Eve's hot, in that "I don't care if you think I'm hot, I'm just care about being me" way, but she doesn't get a lot of attention in a club full of overdone, over implanted, artificially interested tip-mongers...you know the type. She doesn't dance like they do either; you get the sense, if you pay any attention to her at all instead of using her set to catch up on drinks and conversation, that she's just dancing because she feels like it and not to give your balls that ache that make you want to tip everything in sight that doesn't have a *****. Anyway, you get my drift...

She's not one of those dancers who constantly table-hops, grinding for tips and doing whatever they have to to separate the rubes from their paychecks, she's usually sitting at the bar between sets and she seems to like it that way. I smile at her when our eyes meet once in a while, and she sort of smiles back then goes back to whatever she's doing.

One night, after a couple of drinks, I tipped her more than I usually would...not a lot, but still...and told her I'd like to buy her a drink sometime if she felt like it, the I turned my back on her, walked back to my table, and sat down. I went back to watching the crowd, ordered another drink, and other than glancing at the stage a couple of times to watch her move I didn't give my uncharacteristic invitation a lot of thought.

A couple of sets, a couple of stereo-typically bump and grind dancers, later I saw someone coming to my table out of the corner of my eye and turned to find Eve standing there, her head lightly cocked to one side and looking at me with that "were you serious?" look on her face. I smiled up at her and nodded to the chair across from me, the one she was already on her way to sitting in, and looked around for a waitress to flag down. I didn't have to look very hard...waitresses in clubs like that have radar, they know the exact moment a dancer's ass hits a customer's chair and they've said "Hi! Would you like to buy the lovely lady a bottle of champagne?" so often that they probably say it in their sleep.

"Patron..." Eve says, cutting the waitress off a heartbeat after "Hi!" and then she looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

"Sure" says I. "Make it two" says Eve.

Two became a few, and the conversation...like the tequila...started in short sharp gulps then got smoother as the night went along. Now, when she left the table to do a set I paid attention to the way she moved. Serious attention. Color me intrigued.

I'm not that guy who sticks around a club until close; but late in the evening, as she pushed away from the table to do her last set she leaned over and said "So, you want some company tonight?" before she turned and headed for the stage. So yeah, tonight, tonight I'm that guy. In the morning I woke up for work to find her sprawled across me with her head on my chest, sleeping peacefully with a little half-smile on her lips. I slid out from under her, got ready for work, and very then uncharacteristically decided to just let her sleep. I left her a "That was...you are...incredible. Mi casa es su casa" note and headed off, mildly hung over and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. She wasn't there when I got back.

A couple of days later, I came home to find my door half off the hinges and my place pretty seriously burgled. Whoever hit me knew where all the good stuff was, because the crap was still there and the good stuff wasn't. I looked around in shock, then anger. Eve, that *****, that sexy amazing *****, must have set me up. I was seriously pissed, I was insured, I got over it.

What I didn't get over was that night...so yeah; I go back to that club...and back to EvE...every once in a while and I've never mentioned the robbery, not once. Now I just make sure she leaves my place when I do, and I've got a better door.

You are entirely to familiar with strip clubs....

I looked around in shock, then anger. Eve, that *****, that sexy amazing *****, must have set me up.

What I didn't get over was that night...so yeah; I go back to that club...and back to EvE...every once in a while and I've never mentioned the robbery, not once. Now I just make sure she leaves my place when I do, and I've got a better door.

I don't understand.. why go back to her if it's clear she tipped off the people who broke into your place?

Surely there are women where you are who won't rob you as a follow up to sex?

Why come back to eve after the harsh realities of it?

Sometimes you fall madly in love with her eyeless, I'm constantly dripping acid from my teeth, I'm going to lay eggs in your chest kind of persona.

Now you have me reminiscing about my ex's, thanks Sybil.

Are you secretly the so far unseen Ralph King-Alien?

And thanks Sibyyl, now I feel the urge to prove I'm more sci-fi nerd than you.

No , just had a thing for skinny neurotic chicks in my youth, Sybil's description struck a chord.

Yeah, I always had more fun with the curvy cheerful ones myself.

I have one (my gf) eyeing my suspiciously from across the room now.

Unfortunately, for me, I've married her and we have some kids too.

We gone separated ways for like 3 times in these last years, almost got divorced because an incident on the club.

I have your stuff, BTW, its being used to feed the family.

And thanks Sibyyl, now I feel the urge to prove I'm more sci-fi nerd than you.

I'm sorry Mr. Alex, but you're going to lose that nerd battle..

I'm sorry Mr. Alex, but you're going to lose that nerd battle..

Real nerds fight with words!