The car wasfast. It didn't take long before it was upon him. Art sank as he heardthe engine slow. He didn't dare look out from the corner of his hood ...sthe car idled past him. He could tell he was being watched. All he coulddo was walk. From inside the car he could hear voices over the sound ofthumping house music, loud and boorish. He heard laughing. Art waswrong. He thought he could pass. Clearly whoever was in the car had seenthrough it. He tensed up even more.The engine of the car roared. Too crowded, too noisy, too smoky... it wasn't going to be worth it just for $10 table dances. On the way back to my hotel a small building caught my eye with the sign "Gentlemen's Dance Partners". I figured I could spare five minutes to check out the place. When I went in there was a latina hostess in an enclosed foyer and a sign -- $10 entry, $20 per hour to the house for the ladies' time and a tip of at least that much for the lady. The music from behind the closed door sounded okay, so I. More

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