Centerfold

"Of course that's her!" John insisted for a second time, as we got on the elevator. "I'd recognize her anywhere. You just must be getting too old and forgetful. Either that or you need glasses."

"Sweet" I responded, sounding a bit giddy. "We are going out this Friday evening for dinner and hopefully a little bit more afterwards."

Before I continue on, I probably should backtrack a little and give you the details surrounding the portion of conversation that just took place.

We have a new temporary receptionist named Barb filling in for the vacationing Mrs. Raymond for the month of January. This temp is just incredibly gorgeous, seems to have a very good personality (ie. she laughs at my jokes and comments) and also has a very attractive body. These are three characteristics the vacationing and middle-aged Mrs. Raymond does not possess, so this temp is a godsend for all of us males in the office.

I immediately took a liking to this girl when I first returned from the two-week road trip I had been on. We have had a couple of coffees together and the conversation was very easy, so being the eager individual I am, I asked Barb out this Friday evening after work for dinner and drinks.

My buddy John just arrived at my work for us to go for lunch and he noticed the gorgeous Barb immediately upon his way in. But the news he gave to me about her came as a complete surprise to me.

Apparently Barb is, or rather was, a stripper called Brandy Twist that we went to go see years ago (like about 10 years ago). I had completely forgotten all about her until John mentioned her just moments ago. He has an excellent memory for faces, etc. (HAHA!!) and I would never second-guess him if he was this sure about something.

So this is excellent...I am going to be having dinner with Brandy Twist, a girl we all admired greatly a few years ago. She was the subject of many a fantasy back then. This is something I could only dream about.

"I wonder why she changed her name? Brandy Twist is such a better name than Barb Whatever-the-Hell-it-is?" I asked, realizing how stupid my question was the minute I spoke those words out loud.

John stared at me for a moment in silence and then finally spoke. "I think you are losing your mind. You need to calm down, you're not thinking straight. Obviously Brandy Twist was her stage name. Anyway, why don't you ask her yourself when you go out on your date?"

John was right, I was pretty geared up to go out on Friday. Even more so now that I found out that our friendly little temp receptionist is actually the talented (and extremely flexible, as I recall) Brandy Twist!

So Friday afternoon finally rolled around and Brandy, err Barb I mean, was dressed up and looking pretty hot. We drove over to the restaurant early to have a couple of drinks before our dinner and get to know one another a little.

Barb told me a great deal about herself, her family and her past, including the fact that she believes herself to be a bit psychic and also that she was both a model for a few years and then later on, a stripper. (or exotic dancer as she politely referred to it as).

I, of course being the gentleman that I am, pretended to not know the last part and we continued on with our excellent evening by moving to the dining room to order a nice dinner.

I ordered a rather expensive dinner wine to go with the two T-Bone steaks we both decided to have. I figured I would really impress Barb, which would hopefully pay off for me later on in the evening!

The wine was excellent however when the steaks arrived, Barb commented that she was really hungry and thought it would be a bigger T-bone.

Well I am not psychic in any way, but I did foresee another big bone in her future. Just not one that is served with baked potato and garnish, well not unless she has some kind of sexual fetish or something, HAHA!!


The rest of our dinner was rather uneventful aside from the fact that Barb seemed to be getting a little drunk, which resulted in her voice becoming louder and somewhat obnoxious. These two things are not a big deal when you have both the looks and the body that Barb has.

Unfortunately, she kept referring to our Asian waiter Robert, as 'that Gook' which is a rather uncommon racial slur that I have only heard when watching some of my Dad's old war movies. I didn't really want to find out where she learned such a phrase from, so I thought it best just to pay the check quickly and move back into the lounge for some more 'beverages'.

We went back in the lounge where the background noise would drown out any more of her "Gook" remarks, and once our drinks arrived I asked her why she didn't like Asians.

"When I, I wawas dancing" Barb slurred, venom in her voice. "Every Gook that came in there would sit in the front row for hours, order 1 drink and never tip any of the dancers. I hate every one of them and wish they would all go back to wherever they came from."

I thought it best to change the topic quickly to avoid any further 'bad memories' being recalled by her. We began talking about the office and her job and interests when suddenly she stopped talking and just shook her head in disgust.

"What's the matter Barb?" I asked innocently.

"Look over there at the table in the corner." Barb demanded, gesturing with her head. "That dirty Spook sitting with the blonde girl."

I looked over in the direction she had indicated but could not figure out what she was referring to. There were just tables of other couples sitting there talking to one another. Nothing interesting at all that I could see.

"Spook?" I replied. "What are you talking about, did you see a ghost ?"

"No, you idiot" Barb responded sounding rather agitated. "Spook, black guy - same thing, you know. They only go for the blonde girls, it is like a trophy for them."

I had never heard this expression before in my life however I was less concerned with that fact and more so the fact that I began to realize that I may be sitting with a huge racist. I needed to know.

"So you don't like black people either?" I asked cautiously. "Now why is that?"

"They're all disgusting." She blurted out loudly, her face twisted in hate. "Just a bunch of stupid..."

And then she said it. Said it without hesitation, without care of who overheard and without respect for anyone. She said the 'N' word.

That was it. I can tolerate a great deal of things from my dates in this world such as vulgarity, drunkenness, boring & endless stories about their lives and many other things however I have absolutely no patience nor tolerance for racism of any kind.

"So have you always been a racist or are you just practising to join the Klan?" I asked, no longer caring what her reaction would be.

She was silent for a moment and stared at me with hate in her eyes. Finally she spoke.

"You actually like those people. I should have guessed." Barb spat, sounding even more intoxicated and irate then before. "People like you live in a fools world, sheltered from reality. If you like them so much, why not go over and be with them."

At that point I pretty much realized our so called 'date' was over. I stood up silently, muttered the words 'drunken racist whore' towards her and headed towards the door. As I was leaving she was yelling loudly after me "I don't need you, I can go home with any man in this bar."

I have no doubt that she was probably right about that point, provided that the 'man' has no ethnic or foreign blood in his entire family history.

I am fortunate that I had not mentioned to her that my Dad is from Scotland and my Mom from England, if I had she probably would have spit on me. Crazy white supremacist Byatch!

I left the bar alone with no regrets, I had no intention of pretending to be a gentleman and driving her home or anywhere else for that matter. I left Barb behind since I don't drive a garbage truck which is where someone with those kind of outdated feelings and attitudes truly belongs.

As I pulled out of the parking lot I wondered to myself as to how someone so beautiful on the outside can be so damn ugly and disgusting on the inside.

Where have all the normal girls gone these days? You know, the ones who just get drunk and then come back to my house?

I then put this miserable evening out of my mind and headed towards the pub.

"I guess there was actually a bright side to the evening though." I thought to myself. "At least I hadn't ordered that stripper pole for my bedroom as yet!"