#ttbe;

Last night’s client was well stocked. Snagged this bad boy on my way out the door. Thought he might miss it, but I figured he would miss me more. A picture should suffice. Well, until he comes crawling back into the club tonight, begging for another night of attention. The begging is my favorite part. They’re so confident, so persistent, seeing their face when they get rejected makes it all worth the endless pleas coming from their lips. 

The bathroom is always a weird place to visit once it starts to get late. It’s always a mess, but that will be a given at any location where a mass of bodies and drinks can be found. Yet, he always finds it amusing. He is assured to find something new every night, nothing ever repeating both in words and in pictures. And yet, he finds himself upset. No one seems to take into consideration how much work goes into to cleaning the place up once it closes. It’s a good thing he never stays into the late morning to be on that team. Still, he can’t help but to pity the poor soul who does; can’t help but to pity how much every single word affects him and reminds him of what was. What could have been. No, he doesn’t pity the soul for playing the game all those months ago, before he felt the need to fill out an application to get closer to the man who worked the bar well into the night.