His Paradise

The air is muggy as I make my way under the canopy of trees and in the vague direction Peter pointed. Of course, there’s no goddamn cell reception on this island, so I just have to guess where to go from here.

Up ahead I see a building with glowing lights and can make out a neon fish on the roof. That must be the place. When I get closer I see the place is basically a shack. The door has been propped open with a few pieces of driftwood, and music is blaring through the open windows.

The Red Din is crowded for a weekday and I’m surprised. Is this whole island just one big party? I guess nobody does any real work when the sun goes down.

I walk inside, but the place is so rowdy nobody notices. I spot an empty seat on the other side of the bar and have to make my way through the crowd to claim it. Once I’m there I take a seat and then have a good look around.

The roof is made of rusted metal, and the sound of rain on it would be nice if it wasn’t for the jukebox in the corner blaring out old honky-tonk songs. Wooden rafters run along the roof and there are hundreds of bras nailed up there. I crane my neck back to get a good look at them and then wonder why the hell anyone would do that.

“It’s a rite of passage,” an older woman says as she tosses a napkin down in front of me.

She’s got dirty-blonde hair that’s been curled and piled up on the top of her head. Black charcoal rings her eyes and she’s wearing red lipstick that is a little too loud for her age. Then I notice she’s wearing a black leather collar with the name Dolly on it and a black leather vest with nothing on underneath.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“The bras. Locals toss ’em up there if they’ve banged in the bathroom.”

“You mean women that have sex in the bathroom and announce it to the whole town?”

“Only the first time,” she says, winking at me. “What’ll you have, sailor?”

“You have any beer on tap?” I ask, looking around the bar.

“Nope,” she says, then smiles brightly at me.

“Anything will do,” I say, knowing this isn’t the kind of place to order a fine liquor or wine.

She slides a bottle over to me and then places a bowl of pretzels beside it.

“My name’s Dolly. You need anything, holler.”

I go to ask her for a menu, but she turns her back on me and walks to the other end of the bar. It’s then I see she’s wearing a leather mini-skirt and five-inch heels.

I pull the bowl of pretzels closer and try not to think about who else has had their hands in them. At this point I’m too hungry to care, and it’s obvious Dolly isn’t a fan of tourists. I think even if I did order, I might not like what comes on my plate.

Some time passes, and I watch the crowd. People are laughing and having a good time. There’s even a good number of people on the dance floor. I’m surprised, but after a while I think this place might not be so bad. At least it’s early enough that they’re not sloppy.

“You want another, sailor?” Dolly says as she comes over and points to my empty beer bottle.

“Please, and maybe I could get something to eat with it?” I hedge, trying my best to seem reasonable.

“You want a burger or oysters?” she asks, and I suppose those are my options.

“Burger.”

“Coming up.” She winks at me this time before she slides me another beer.

I guess Kathy was right. Sometimes being polite does pay off. I just don’t seem to find time in my day for it.

It doesn’t take long before Dolly is bringing me a burger and fries. “You all set, sailor?”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” I say right before I take a bite of the big juicy burger. I have to stop myself from moaning. I’m either starving or this is the best burger I’ve ever eaten.

“You washed up today, didn’t you?” she says, propping her elbow on the bar.

“I bet you know everyone in this town,” I say, thinking I could use her to my advantage.

“I know every good-looking man in this town,” she says, leaning closer. “And I know it’s been a long time since I had one hang my bra from the rafters.” She winks at me and takes a sip of some pink cocktail beside her.

I nearly choke on my burger before I swallow it and then wash it down with a sip of my beer, biding my time. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. So long that I can’t even remember a thing about it. But I’m not sure Dolly is the one I want breaking my streak.