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esmio06Well the remodeling is complete and we are open for business again.
We added torture deck for the truly sadistic bastards. This deck overlooks the lake of fire. (For those of you that remember where the old bay windows were, they are now glass doors leading to the deck). From this deck people can grab buckets of water and pour them over to the attorneys and politicians that are writhing and burning below. The deck is just high enough for the water to turn to steam just before it reaches the wailing mouths of the eternally thirsty. It is beauty in motion to see them almost smile through their pain as the water leaves the bucket, only to watch that smile evaporate in synchronization with the water.
Last night was our first night open. The crowd was exceptionally early. I guess we were missed after all. Yes I am still insecure even in the afterlife. I constantly wonder if people really like my club or just come because it is convenient.
I never really announced the closing for remodeling, so a few of the old regulars were pissed off. It is amazing how fast tequila can cure that. Within an hour of opening, the time off had been erased and the masses were mingling as though they had all been here the night before.
At the end of the bar sat the only regular to never miss a day even while we were closed. I shouldn’t be surprised by that since he has taken me on as his regular therapist, chatting away about all the woes of the world and how the world still blames him for every last one of them. This night was no different, except for the clockwork interruptions of the paying masses. I am convinced that he really thinks of the bar as intrusion into his personal time on my couch.
Sitting at the other end of the bar last night was a face I had remembered vaguely from my living days, but could not place. He was obviously a recent arrival into our beloved Hell. You can always tell the newbies by the look of shock at the lack of torture for the majority of us in Hell. Several times during the night he would ask me questions about how long I have been here and other things that I had no way of answering. It is hard to explain time when you first arrive, but that is a tirade for a different blog. He was a very young and handsome man, though all of us looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. A flock of my usual ladies spotted him and every now and then one of the vultures would swoop in to try to capture the meat, but this prey was adept at dodging the predators. Maybe too adept… gay perhaps? No, probably just in culture shock. None of the gay men were chasing him, and I trust their GADAR a lot better than my own.
Well all in all it was a pretty uneventful night, but I am quite sure that Friday will bring tales…
We added torture deck for the truly sadistic bastards. This deck overlooks the lake of fire. (For those of you that remember where the old bay windows were, they are now glass doors leading to the deck). From this deck people can grab buckets of water and pour them over to the attorneys and politicians that are writhing and burning below. The deck is just high enough for the water to turn to steam just before it reaches the wailing mouths of the eternally thirsty. It is beauty in motion to see them almost smile through their pain as the water leaves the bucket, only to watch that smile evaporate in synchronization with the water.
Last night was our first night open. The crowd was exceptionally early. I guess we were missed after all. Yes I am still insecure even in the afterlife. I constantly wonder if people really like my club or just come because it is convenient.
I never really announced the closing for remodeling, so a few of the old regulars were pissed off. It is amazing how fast tequila can cure that. Within an hour of opening, the time off had been erased and the masses were mingling as though they had all been here the night before.
At the end of the bar sat the only regular to never miss a day even while we were closed. I shouldn’t be surprised by that since he has taken me on as his regular therapist, chatting away about all the woes of the world and how the world still blames him for every last one of them. This night was no different, except for the clockwork interruptions of the paying masses. I am convinced that he really thinks of the bar as intrusion into his personal time on my couch.
Sitting at the other end of the bar last night was a face I had remembered vaguely from my living days, but could not place. He was obviously a recent arrival into our beloved Hell. You can always tell the newbies by the look of shock at the lack of torture for the majority of us in Hell. Several times during the night he would ask me questions about how long I have been here and other things that I had no way of answering. It is hard to explain time when you first arrive, but that is a tirade for a different blog. He was a very young and handsome man, though all of us looked pretty damn good if I do say so myself. A flock of my usual ladies spotted him and every now and then one of the vultures would swoop in to try to capture the meat, but this prey was adept at dodging the predators. Maybe too adept… gay perhaps? No, probably just in culture shock. None of the gay men were chasing him, and I trust their GADAR a lot better than my own.
Well all in all it was a pretty uneventful night, but I am quite sure that Friday will bring tales…
