So to get on with the story I was driving around and by chance I happened to pass a strip club and the thought occurred ,"perhaps Il wet my whistle" so I decided to go in. Now for those of you who watch television in new York city this is the strip club with the aliens in the commercial but other than that lets just say that it is a very well known club. luckily I found parking and walked down the block to the club. My legs were trembling and so were my hands when I entered the club and security stopped me, they made me check my knives(a habit acquired in my youth being one of the only fairer skinned c***dren in the area) and then checked my coat. All the while the bouncer kept asking me "are you a.b, are you a.b , don't make trouble or Im gonna fuck you up", I answered in the negative that I was not a.b (Aryan brotherhood, Astoria/L.I.C was a large skinhead enclave in my youth) and that I would indeed not make any trouble. So he opened a set of large doors. And each became physically more frustrated because the object of their emotional love was not, they thought, possibly an object of their physical love. To most people they just seemed like another attractive young couple in love. In most ways they were. They walked together, talked together, laughed together and were practically inseparable. Only a really sharp eyed observer would have noticed that they never held hands and they never kissed. Only their roommates knew their real pain. Carol knew how many nights she heard the quiet buzz of Susan’s Silver Stallion trying to mollify the worst of her physical frustrations. Worse were the nights that she heard Susan crying herself to sleep, over her emotional frustrations. Carol kept urging her to give up on this hopeless dead-end relationship but Susan refused. She just wasn’t willing to give him up. Carol once asked Susan what she would do if and when Tim got involved in an active homosexual relationship, and didn’t have time for her.
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