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Amy could see gloved hands extending from the shadows that framed her interrogator. He carefully examined each piece of jewelry. Her watch received special attention although Amy couldn’t see why. Then, her blouse was carefully examined. The hems and stitching carefully inspected. Next it was her skirt. The same procedure was followed for her socks and tennis shoes. The clothes were returned to the duffle bag. The jewelry went back into the plastic basket.The interrogator spoke. Amy stared blankly and received another slash with the cane, this time across the from of her thighs. She screamed and dropped her hands only to receive another strike across her abdomen. Arms flew back, outstretched.The woman said something to the interrogator. He seemed to be considering Amy more closely now. They consulted again. Finally, he said: “Amerikan?”Amy nodded, fearing to speak.The two consulted again. The interrogator made a signal to the guard and the hood was replaced. The klieg lights were. She was finally crossing the street. Her heart-rate increased as she got closer to the door. Her mouth went dry. There was no turning back though-she was too close. Another few steps and she'd be inside.And then she was. The door pushed open with the clang of a bell, and just like that she was standing inside the grimy store. And boy was it grimy. The floor was made up of large, dirt stained tiles. The air smelled like cigarette smoke and something less familiar, something gross. And the sights overwhelmed her right away.Everywhere she looked there was evidence of this place's depravity. Blow-up dolls hanging from ceilings; rack after rack of dirty magazines; shelves filled with VHS and DVD pornos. And there were toys, toys of all kinds, displayed everywhere.At the left side of the store was a long glass display case. The glass was predictably grimy and smeared. Behind this counter, though, were most of the toys on full display: large rubber dildos, rubber vaginas, and other things.
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