Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise. One requirement: story length to be 6 sentences.
Prompt Word:
EVEN
“Hello Diane; Lou, he’s here, right?”
The HVAC system of the Bottom of the Sea Strip Club and Lounge was state of the art, however the smoke particulate levels on a busy Thursday night would shame any 18th Century opium den or most church-basement AA meetings during the 1950s.
That said, the owner, Lou Ceasare, was known to decide his memories of growing up on the mean streets of the capital city should be shared and, with a call to his plumber, (the one who had a license to practice his trade, as opposed to anyone in his employ who might have added a reference to the tools of the trade, i.e. Seymour the Hammer or Lester Two-hands) and have the state-of-the-art, Health Department mandated air conditioning system shut down until closing or if one of his dancers complained, only then, waving his imported Cuban cigar like a thurible in a dark mass benediction, would he relent,
“Like a fuckin’ lagoon before the real predators show up, ya know what I mean?”
If a person, customer, performer or staff was in Lou’s company at such a moment of reminiscence, they would vigorously assert their knowledge of what the man in the last booth was asking.
Among the societal and cultural values of the myths of ancient times was to provide a variety of agencies to act as intermediaries between Man and Deity; they came in all shapes, sizes, dispositions and genders, the hostess of the Bottom of the Sea, Diane Tierney, if suddenly cast back in time, would be a shoe-in for the role of Semele.
“Yeah, Ian, but even if you’re a favorite at the moment, I’d advise you to keep your sentences short and your demands even more so,” she reached halfway towards my arm, seemed to think twice and, instead, walked towards the last booth on the right; she didn’t even once look back to see if I followed her.
About clarkscottroger
That last sentence is just perfect.
ty
“Seymour the Hammer or Lester Two-hands”, lol
Lou’s so clear in my head at this point as to be a real person. (Still wondering why he sent Rosetta to the Café, though.)
You know how much Diane cares for Ian, otherwise she wouldn’t have given him a heads up!
this is true
It’s nicely intimidating how Diane gives advice: “keep your sentences short and your demands even more so”
she means well, but sometimes the truth is harsh
Glad Lou still has a good connection to get those excellent Cuban cigars.
lol the man has style