Open Sesame

By: Hank Horne
(© 2018-2019 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

HHorne@tickiestories.us

Chapter 32

Maji and I left Dildar and Scotty to make sure the media got away and the bankers and architects got back to The Lodge, then we went back to the palace to say hello to the Allens and the Hopkins, who had arrived while I was on the tour.  Everyone was in the sunroom enjoying tea and crumpets – well, maybe not crumpets, per se, but some hors d’oeuvres. 

When we got there, we greeted the new guests and apologized for not being available when they arrived, but since they knew everyone else they were comfortable.  Greta had asked Dylan to join them, so he was more relaxed, without Maji and me around.

Cal was holding forth with Dan and Harvey while Mildred was grouped with Ginger and Beverly.  Maji and I joined the men to begin with, then moved over to talk with the ladies.  Greta and Robbie were glad to have someone to chat with and learn more about each other.   I looked around for Howie, then Dylan told me he was in the pool with Jennine, Jeff, and Ryan.  They had a volleyball that they were passing around and were having a great time.  Maji excused himself to join the group in the pool.

* * * * *

We went to the Club dining room for dinner about 7:30. Everyone would order from the menu and have the opportunity to see the guys going through routines on stage.  The bankers and architects had gone to the bar first, then joined us upstairs.  Two of our ‘girls’ were working the welcome desk and Avra showed us to our seats.  When the others came up from the bar, Kimi showed them to their seats.  We had six waiters and the same number busboys for the thirty-one people we were serving this evening.  The hostesses and waiters were dressed in black, rather “skinny” slacks and tie-dye muscle shirts, also form-fitting.  The busboys had the black slacks, but each had a solid T-shirt of the three primary and three secondary colors.  

I took the opportunity to check on each of the tables and chat with all the guests while they were having their salads and waiting for their entrées – just as a proper dining room manager should!  I told them they would receive a survey for suggestions to improve service and menu and leave them with Hassan at The Lodge front desk.  The people staying at the ‘castle’ could leave them in the library there.  When it was nearly time for the show to begin, we all went down to the club and got tables there, or sat at the bar, or just stood around. 

As had been done the previous night at 9:00, the lights in the main part of the club dimmed and the stage lights brightened.  The DJ played the opening number for two couples to perform a hot Cha Cha Cha.   Three other dancers tapped to a really jazzy song, followed by two more couples performing a variety of swing dances from the Big Band Era, including the Charleston and the Shag.  When they took their bows, a different set of six dancers came on singing and dancing to “There’s No Business Like Show Business.”  When the song finished, the emcee for the evening introduced the performers and welcomed the guests.  Like last night, Dylan sat on the floor of the stage interpreting for Greta and Robbie.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to The Crystal Rainbow.  I am David and I’ll be your tour guide this evening.  This is a male review, similar to the infamous Chippendales.  Don’t worry, we’re not going that far – I said, ‘similar to.’  We’ve got more singing with our dancing and less stripping.  Sorry, ladies.  This will be PG-13 rated tonight.  If you expected R or X rating, you can get your money back as you leave.  Until then, enjoy the drinks and the show – on the house!”

The music started for the next song, which was “The Drinking Song” from Sigmund Romberg’s “The Student Prince.” ¹⁵   By this time, the cast, including the “Singing Security Studs,” was spread out around the club.  Each had a mug of beer in their hand, so they started banging the tables and the bar with the mugs as they counted:

Ein zwei drei vier

Lift your stein and drink your beer

Ein zwei drei vier

Lift your stein and drink your beer

Being a tenor, David (or Dawit in his Ethiopian language) had the solo.

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To eyes that are bright as stars when they're shining on me!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To lips that are red and sweet as the fruit on the tree!

Here's a hope that those bright eyes will shine

Lovingly, longingly soon into mine!

May those lips that are red and sweet,

Tonight, with joy my own lips meet! 

Drink! Drink!

Let the toast start!

May young hearts never part!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

Let every true lover salute his sweetheart! 

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To arms that are white and warm as a rose in the sun!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To hearts that will love one, only when I am the one!

Here's a hope that those soft arms will twine

Tenderly, trustingly soon around mine! 

All I ask is the right to see those smiling eyes beguiling me

Drink! Drink!

Let the toast start!

May young hearts never part!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

Let every true lover salute his sweetheart!

Let's drink! 

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To eyes that are bright as stars when they're shining on me!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

To lips that are red and sweet as the fruit on the tree!

Here's a hope that those soft arms will twine

Tenderly, trustingly soon around mine! 

All I ask is a right to see those smiling eyes beguiling me

Drink! Drink!

Let the toast start!

May young hearts never part!

Drink! Drink! Drink!

Let every true lover salute his sweetheart!

Let's drink! 

“Danke schön!  Vielen Dank!” David told the audience to the enthusiastic applause.  “What more do we need as performers than your showing us how much you enjoy our work?”

“Dawit, you are exactly right,” Gyuri, one of our horticulturists from Greece, spoke up.  “Performers have a need to please an audience, especially a great one like we have here tonight.  But as men, we need something more.”  Several of the cast on stage vocally agreed.

The music started for their next number, “There’s Nothing Like a Dame” from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s “South Pacific.” ¹⁶

David asked the men, “What more do we need?  We’ve got so much already.”  The chorus began to sing:

We've got sunlight on the sand
We've got moonlight on the sea
We've got mangoes and bananas we can pick right off a tree
We've got volleyball and ping-pong and a lot of dandy games
What ain't we got?
We ain't got dames!

We get packages from home
We get movies, we get shows
We get speeches from our skipper
And advice from Tokyo Rose
We get letters doused with perfume,
We get dizzy from the smell
What don't we get?
You know damn well

We've got nothing to put on a clean white suit for
What we need is what there ain't no substitute for

There is nothing like a dame
Nothing in the world
There is nothing you can name
That is anything like a dame

We feel restless, we feel blue
We feel lonely and in brief
We feel every kind of feeling
But the feeling of relief
We feel hungry as the wolf felt when he met Red Riding Hood
What don't we feel?
We don't feel good

Lots of things in life are beautiful but, brother
There is one particular thing that is nothing whatsoever
In any way, shape, or form like any other

There is nothing like a dame
Nothing in the world
There is nothing you can name
That is anything like a dame

Nothing else is built the same
Nothing in the world...
Has a soft and wavy frame
Like the silhouette of a dame
There is absolutely nothing like the frame
Of a dame
[Whistling]

While the cast was whistling, two of the guys on the floor escorted Jennine to the stage and lifted her up to two other men on stage.  More audience applause and whistling.

Also during the applause and whistling, Halldór moved to stage right and Jennine to stage left of the front line of the hunky singers. On the first line of the verse, she rubbed her hand down Kim’s face, looked out over the audience, grinned and gave a little wiggle while the guys, singing the musical line, turned their heads to watch her.

There are no books like a dame

As she stepped toward Colt, he took her hand, turned her half-circle to face the audience, and she leaned back against his chest.  She rolled her shoulders against his taught pecs, much to his enjoyment.

And nothing looks like a dame

Ivan took her hand, guiding her around in-front of himself and she rubbed his biceps, then turned to the audience and feigned dizziness, and began to sink toward the floor.  Ivan grabbed her by the elbows and lifted her to a standing position.

There are no drinks like a dame

Bret reached over, took her hand in his, and put his arm around her waist, and as in a waltz-step, turned her full-circle, and handed her off to Fabio next to him.

And nothing thinks like a dame

Fabio leaned in to kiss her cheek, she stepped back and playfully slapped his cheek instead.  She looked out at the audience and winked at them.  Altan stepped forward, turning a quarter turn to face her, took her right hand and she allowed him to kiss it.

Nothing acts like a dame

Jennine looked at the audience with passion in her eyes, almost faint.  Altan slipped his arms under hers to support her and handed her off to Cole.

She faced him and ran her hands down his chest and abdomen.  He shivered as did she.

Or attracts like a dame

Her legs seemed to become weak again, but Cole and Altan make a chair-seat with their arms and allowed her to sit while she put her arms around their shoulders.  They gently rocked her.

There ain't a thing that's wrong with any man here

That can't be cured by putting him near

A girly, womanly, female, feminine dame.

As Halldór hit the low note on the last word, he lifted Jennine up in his arms, holding her for a minute during the ovation, then giving her a kiss on the cheek he carried her back to the edge of the stage, knelt and put her in Jeff’s arms.  “Thank you both, very much,” Halldór said to them. 

“No.  Thank you!” Jeff replied as he stood his fiancée on the floor.  The two men then shook hands and returned to their groups.

David came to the front of the stage, in front of the pole, to make the announcement, “This concludes our singing portion of the show, now comes more of the dancing.  But while everyone is here, I want to give a special shout out to our DJ for this evening – Harley Davidson!  That’s his real name, but to us he’s just ‘Har-Har.’  Right now, he’s giving us what’s sometimes called a ‘Hawaiian Wave.’  So, let’s all turn to the DJ booth and with the middle finger extended, wave back.  ‘Har-Har!’  Thank you all for being with us this evening.  Enjoy the rest of the show!”

All but the six dancers who would continue the show left.  Dildar whispered in my ear that the woman reporter was wandering through the crowd.  She had some guy with her who looked like he might be the slave for her dominatrix.  Dil and I walked over to her.

“Did you get to see the opening show this evening, Ms. Smitherman?” I asked her.

“I thought the ‘show’ was just now starting,” she replied. 

“Oh, no. It’s been going on for nearly an hour. Then about midnight, there will be a fifteen-minute belly-dancing performance from some of our dancers, showing various styles of belly-dancing.  The rest is basically filler for the night,” I said with a saccharine tone.  “Tomorrow night we’ll combine both last night and tonight’s shows.  You might enjoy that even more.”

“Tonight, will be enough for me to learn what’s going on here.  And I’m sure there is more than meets the eye,” she told me.

“If you find something that I don’t know about, be sure to let me know.  Have you had dinner yet?  If not, please be my guest upstairs tonight.  The dining room is serving for another hour,” I responded.

“You’re too kind,” she said, then reconsidered.  “But I might just take you up on that.”

“I’ll make sure you have a good view of the stage while you’re eating.  Mr. Fadel, please let the hostesses know Ms. Smitherman and her escort are my guests.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Richards,” Dil acknowledged the directive, and left immediately to take care of it.

“I do have one more question,” she said.  “I notice that several of your top men are Muslim ….”

 “Are you assuming they are Muslim because they’re Mid-Eastern or Semitic?” I asked.  “Their faith is totally superfluous here.  We have staff who are Buddhist, Christian, Confucian, Jewish, Sikh, Tao, Muslim.  We have most of the Christian denominations represented, including Christian Kurds, and some Muslim denominations also.  We are totally ecumenical.  Does that answer your question?” {Silence} “Have a good evening,” I told her, then went back to my group.

A few minutes later, Dil came up to me and told me he had warned the girls upstairs who was coming up for dinner, and to let the guys know they might be grilled for anything she could use against us. 

And shortly after, Ando let me know the limo was ready whenever the older generation was ready to go back to the Palace.  Ando is from Madagascar and is an outstanding auto mechanic as well as an excellent driver and escort. About a half hour later, the three couples who had been Mom and Dad’s best friends, let me know they wanted to turn in for the evening.  I escorted them to the car and turned them over to Ando, told them good night and they could have breakfast whenever they wanted to.  The kitchen would be open after 7:30 a.m.

Greta and Robbie, Jennine and Jeff seemed to be enjoying the dancers and the music.  The woofers were strong enough to feel the beat, which made me feel good that we had spent the money for the best.  Most of the clubs that I’ve been in play their music so loud you can’t hear yourself think, much less someone talk.  So, I made sure the sound level was set at a reasonable volume for the performers to hear and not get feedback from the microphones as well as the customers could hear each other’s conversations – without yelling.  Howie was mingling with Maji, Scotty, the architects and bankers.  He and Jim Guthrie were even cordial to each other.  In fact, the two of them almost looked friendly at times.  {I didn’t think I’d had that much to drink tonight!}

Well, the opening seems to have been very successful.  If the majority of the media gives us a fair review, anything Ms. Foxy has to say can be ignored.  The ads in gay publications, including The Advocate, Q-Notes, Southern Voice, The Washington Blade, David Atlanta, Out Front, Wire Magazine – and Jim or Scotty knows only which other magazines we bought ads in. In Touch, maybe.  Anyway, our promotion for opening week was free 1-year membership for those who join before the end of November.  Our architects, and bankers would get charter memberships for being such an important part of getting this off the ground.

About midnight, Maji and I checked with Halldór to make sure everything was quiet and asked if he saw the reporter and her monkey leave. 

“Yes,” he said.  “And she looked like she had eaten a Trinidad Scorpion raw.”

“What’s that?” Maji asked.

“It’s the hottest pepper on the planet.  More than two thousand SHU – Scofield heat units of capsaicin.”

“They wouldn’t!  Would they?” I asked, horrified that they might have served her something they shouldn’t.

“No, the kitchen staff would not do that,” he laughed.  “She probably did not find anything to criticize, and that tasted bitter to her.”

“I hope that’s it.”  

“I feel sorry for that little guy who was with her,” Halldór said.  “I bet she’s taking it out on him right now.”

“Oh, he probably would enjoy it,” Maji commented.  “Maybe he’s shooting his third load all over himself right now.”

“I can hardly wait to shoot my first load when I get off – from work, that is!” Halldór joked.

We all laughed, said good night, then Maji and I left. 

I wanted to talk with everyone who came in contact with Smitherman about what went on with her.

To be continued...  

Posted: 02/08/19