Page 18 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
I mean, it’s not like I was looking for a stalker, but I thought I left enough of an impression that she would’ve asked someone about me like I asked about her.
I nod at her stiffly. “Yep.”
Her lips purse in annoyance.
“Well, isn’t that lovely.” My mother steps forward, ignoring the hostility radiating off Rose, and trades my arm for hers. “Come on now. Let’s not keep Angela waiting.”
If anyone had told me that on my first day back from Germany I’d be following my mother and the last woman I brought to orgasm into a strip club bright and early on a Sunday, I’d have thought they were crazy.
And yet here I am. So who’s the crazy one now?
My pointer fingeron my right hand is slightly longer than the one on my left. Fascinating? No, of course not. But my hands are a safer place to look than at the stage where my mother is stretching out in different yoga positions in acrylic shoes and yoga pants.
Out of the corner of my eye, I track a pair of sparkling heels walking toward me. They stop less than a foot from my table, one toe tapping the dingy carpet.
“What are you doing here?”
I smile at her annoyed tone. “What areyoudoing here?”
She huffs. “I’m taking pole dancing lessons. Duh.”
“Who even takes pole dance lessons?”
“Who fake names someone at a wedding?” She snaps back. “Besides, I wouldn’t look down on pole dancers.” She crosses her arms under her chest, smirking. “Yourmotheris one.”
A chill races down my spine, and I shiver. “Bodie’s a nickname. VanceBodaway.”
She scoffs. “What, you gave me your nickname in case I turn into a stage-five clinger?”
I smile remembering that line from the movieWedding Crashers. “Well,areyou?”
She thinks it over. “When needs must.”
I frown, expecting a vehement denial. “What does that mean?”
“It means that if I’m in the middle of the lotus position, I’m going to cling for all I’m worth, seeing as the more I do the more my clit gets stimulated.”
My mouth drops open.
“Oh, poor dear. You haven’t tried lotus yet?” She pats me on the shoulder, a look of faux sympathy on her face. “Don’t worry, maybe one day someone will take pity on your old man ass. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go move my youthful goods around a pole to music.” She shimmies, her sparkling cleavage shaking. “So you just sit here like a good boy and keep quiet, hmm?” She adjusts her breasts behind the taut spandex, and my mouth waters. “Your mama and I have to shake and twirl what God gave us.”
The reminder that my mother is on a strip stage jars my thoughts away from the various mental images of Rose working her way through theKamasutra. My dick is so confused.
Before I can reply, she saunters over to the stage where Mom is waiting with an older lady in a fuchsia Adidas track suit and a younger woman in a string bikini.
“Hey, Angela!” Rose calls out to the bikini lady on her way to the stage. “Why don’t we work on the spread-eagle backbend Helen’s been wanting to master?”
And I’m out.
Rising, I tune out the rest of their conversation and make my way to the door. I don’t even risk a backward glance at Rose, decked out in Jane Fonda bedazzled workout gear. Nothing can make me watch a class that involves my mother doing anything spread eagle.
Rose’s loud cackle is the last thing I hear as I march through the front doors.
Six
Future Light Cone
Rose
