[DruulEmpire]

Technically I shouldn't be doing this, as I happen to enjoy the 50:1 ratio of views to posts on this thread and prefer to make each post efficiently, but a certain recent fantasy has been weighing so heavily on my mind that I've got to just get it out of my system.  And while I'm here, some clarification  -- I may not be back out there till this Friday the 27th, to catch a personal favorite named Brandi Morgan, though it's possible I may stop in earlier to be sure to see my Kyra off on her short vacation.

Also, a word about Bruce.  He asked about prices, and all I can say is that, in my experience, you can get away with being a simple voyeur for twenty bucks, but to even begin to get a dance or two, or double dance, off a girl while feeding singles from the stage, you walk in prepared to blow at dead minimum a hundred.  If I have to worry, or consider haggling, I don't walk in.  It's all or nothing; I consider non-haggling, being smooth and magnanimous, part of my own role in the total experience.

But how high can I take that?  At a certain point, it does seem a bit silly.  I would love to get long dances off, say, eight great house girls in a row -- but that would run $500.  Hence my waiting for an event like Great Friday to splurge.

But what if I had a budget to absorb so much happy silliness?  Then I might celebrate every Friday with eight house girls -- it would eat up more than my entire salary (even with overtime), but it would be memorable.

In a realm of infinite budget, I would set up a revolving booth.  It might go something like this:

1. I stake out a nice spacious booth.  Ideally, I even pitch in for features, like the side mirrors of old, and it may even be assured of always getting the music piped in or being season-appropriately warm or cool.  The booth may be as close to the front of that area as possible.

2. I leave a clipboard beside the booth.  It might read "Murdock's Call List of Private Dancers -- If you see your name, stick your head in" and have an appropriate arrow.  I would write down twelve names and then see how many manage to stop by.  The security guy on hand might even point out the board -- tempting to use the DJ, but I wouldn't want to make that big a deal.

3. Girls catch on and check in or wait.  If there's two, we can work something out.

4. If this went on long enough, people might get used to it and it might proceed more smoothly.

This pretty simply is the fantasy: a "revolving booth," one where the patron gets inundated by one excellent dancer right after another, a place where dancers actually gather to win the patron's favor.  One hour there could be heaven.

Would be awfully expensive, though ...

[berkovw]

I haven't been down to the club since I saw Lovette in July.  Hopefully, I'll make it down a little more this summer.  We'll see.

Anyway, my brother's going to be getting married in a few weeks.  I'm throwing him 2 bachelor parties because one of his good friends isn't allowed to go to strip clubs, so I'm going to take my brother to the new strip club in McKeesport.  If I see anything good, I'll post it here.

[DruulEmpire]

Thanks, Berk -- is that Beemer's you're talking about?

Not sure why I felt compelled to go back down this Saturday evening.  Maybe I knew the next month and a half at my critically understaffed work site are going to be hectic and demanding.  Maybe I felt disgusted with dumb mysterious problem attaching files so that they could get printed up in my club's newsletter.   Maybe I succumbed to a need to rebel against this d-r-a-g-g-i-n-g winter in the Northeast.  Or maybe I just got REALLY HORNY.   Anyway, I went.

And the saga of Cari (see above) continues -- she had the bad luck to talk me up right after I promised myself to Linda (see above), and then had to leave before I could get done with Linda.  Is she getting pissed at me?  For that matter, is she worth this wait?  The plot thickens ...

It's tough to resist Linda, she's just so up and cheery and fun, she seems to be very much that "dark energy" all those cosmologists are hunting for.  I mentioned far above that Linda and Sydney are what I call "bookends" of "Gold Power," but there was diversity even beyond the two -- but I'm getting ahead of myself.

It was somewhat tempting to try to pick up the next dancers, either the athletic red-headed Columbia or the coy-coiffed brunette-with-blonde-highlights Granada.  I gotta say, Granada and I had a lot of great eye contact going on through her dance.  I think I've narrowed down her look -- at first her haircut got me to thinking a bit of Jennifer Aniston, but now I understand that she bears a MUCH closer resemblance to Tatum O'Neal way back in her coming-of-age phase in movies like Little Darlings -- not that Granada looks anywhere near that virginal (I'm a perv, sure, but not that kind of perv), but I think that's a fair analogy.

Yes, I very nearly swiped up Granada, both on stage and while seeing my way past her out of the booths -- but I felt an instant "thunderbolt" when I saw the dancer Sarday (I've seen a Sharday somewhere before, but no, she was Sarday).  No more do I have to worrry about Libra now being the main black dancer after Esmerelda quit; Libra is very ably balanced out by this Sarday.   Sarday is simply beautiful, in an almost lyrical way.  So I knew I had to get her.

But in the booth -- eh.  She was an adequate dancer, but she spoke with a rat-a-tat rhythm suggesting a short attention span.  As a quick treat from time to time, maybe it's great just to look at her, but I'll have to take her in passing as part of a much greater girl feast.

The feast came as two women -- more on them in a little while ...

[DruulEmpire]

I decided to just stand around, and then Sydney came over to me and chatted me up.  She has long hair this, and I can't figure it -- wig?  Extensions?  Anyhow, I remembered her as a traveler, and so she talked about that.  The girl loves museums, but mainly of the Ripley's kind that cater to the bizarre (and kinda gross), or the wax museum -- clearly someday she's got to Madame Toussaud's.  Anyhow, she's so damn sunny that I had to get her in a booth.

This may be getting to be a problem.  Am I a man who can't say no?  A slut?  

But if you'd seen the last girl ...  Right after Sydney I immediately tracked down Corinne over in that odd little side booth.  I felt a bit bad about that argument raging on the last time Corinne and I got together (see way above), but this time we were alone and quiet and could concentrate.  Couldn't help but think of my teacher friend George, and how much he's into the classic blonde beauty (rather like his steady girlfriend) and I wondered how much George would want to be me in the booth, Corinne is SO damn glamorous and moves both sexily and lovingly.  A double dance.

The gals are more self-conscious now, mainly due to some new or reinforced decree from the owner, about any breast touching, so I've scaled back -- luckily, it's still perfectly okay, for some reason, for my face to get buried in them.

And that was it, my "Gold" Linda and Sydney, mixed in with the fresh new Sarday and a long-delayed moment of justice with Corinne.  It was a sweet night, a good way to lift the dread of Friday the 13th the day before ... and it had better hold me till my Brandi Morgan gets here in two weeks ...

[berkovw]

Yeah, Druul, it's Beemer's.  

I love the name Sydney.  It's an Alias/Jennifer Garner thing.

[DruulEmpire]

First, a note back to Berk -- It's funny, how I was really hooked on Alias when it was on, and now I find it difficult to make the plunge into any of the local station's late night reruns.  But true enough, Jennifer Garner makes me proud to be a native of West Virginia (not often enough that happens).  I rather suspect she got the name Sydney as a subliminal ad for Disney, ABC-TV's owner.  However, my sweet ex-Angelena Chicana Sydney down at Blush is simply my code name for her -- and, as I say, if anyone ever needs more data I can PM them and give the non-aliases, along with my awfully obscure rationales for my aliases.  What all DOES generate the alias Sydney?  You might be surprised ...

Awright, my Brandi Morgan was back, so I HAD to go back down today -- and I wound up spending seven hours downtown, mostly in Blush, for the chance to catch Brandi TWICE.  The club is now trying something called a "businessman's special" on Thursdays and Fridays at 6:30 PM -- and, eh, it may be a bit too raucous and crowded and smoky for me after all, but it was worth two Brandi performances.

The experience did make me wish -- not at all for the first time, and I would think not the last -- that I was a richer man, because Brandi's performance **91** just before the new shift of house girls began, and that selection was extra luscious.  Blast, but I was too strapped and also too tired out, having been up since 10 PM the night before, so I left them go for a better time.  I must also say, the dancer lineup was extra sketchy today, there was very little match between the official online list and who actually showed up.  Here I thought I would finally land the ambitious Cari, or waste time with the beautiful Libra, or finally meet the fleeting mysterious Feather -- but no, none of those showed.

Instead, the "eyes" very much had it today.  Eyes always have great power, but they were workin' extra hard today.  I first noticed the power of eyes with a new dancer named Brigham (name seems both masculine and Mormon, but what the hey).   She had a good enough face, oddly reminding me of singer Judy Colins back in her Eighties heyday, and we were locking eyes enough that when she caught me standing around  during another girl's dance I figured Why not?  And that power carried on with Titania, a very classic blonde beauty, and Tommie, a small lively exotic girl, and Aria (see above) who was a full throttle party machine today, just going whoosh-whoosh-whoosh through booth dance partners and I very nearly got caught up in her momentum.

But first, the best eyes were Brandi's.  (It usually helps with recognition if a dancer knows I e-mailed her -- turns out Brandi has a new e-address, which she gave me and I've already availed myself of).  Brandi herself continues to be  a perfect busty blonde girly-girl doll of a woman, but her eyes had power today.  First dance: she came out like a backwoods woman in strategically ripped jeans to the tune of Gretchen Wilson's "Redneck Woman," with a big white hat too, and she happily recognized me and gave me a couple of mamma-slamma greetings while working the stage crowd and steadily stripping down to her black but dazzle-studded lingerie.  Her third song was basic but satisfying, getting out the fake fur rug and then squirting lotion all over her naked body, before finally inciting us to snatch pics of her that were adhering to her breasts, with our teeth no less.

Catching her after the first show, she just let the whole "setting up shop in the corner" bit slide and came with me suitcase and all to the booth.  It is sweet, sweet sorrow, now living in this time when copping a busty feel is evidently verboten, but Brandi is an understanding and gracious soul and gave me some good smotherings between a lot of evocative dance moves -- personally, I'm a sucker for the head thrown back past my own shoulder while I look directly down into the woman hefting her own breasts.  We got a bit updated, she mentioned that her birthday is May 31, and we hugged -- and I said I would come check her out again.  Which I did ...

[DruulEmpire]

After Her Brandiness, my interest was seized by a dancer I'd never gotten a good look at before: Titania, who is a classic blonde-curled beauty abover the neck, I would call her Barbara Stanwyck except BETTER than Stanwyck, maybe closer to Virginia Madsen.  Her body was all right but she dressed VERY well, nice eye-catching satiny lingerie.  So I tried her on an impulse.

After that I needed a break, so I went to the library.  When I got back, I finally got to sit down to a dance involving a short black-tressed girl who'd been catching my eye over and over before, a girl named, of all things, Tommie.  What WAS it about Tommie?  There was something exotic about her (sort of the way I assumed that Libra, from our Burgh's own South Side, hailed from Ethiopia) and I settled on Persis Khambatta, perhaps best known as Ilia in Star Trek The Motion Sickness, except with HAIR.  Tommie and I had a lot of eye talk and smile talk goin' on today, so I had to get her.  What IS it about the really small girls?  I know I've been glossing over the dances here somewhat, but beyond certain details they kind of blur, but Tommie was real dynamite, alternately "bunny hopping" atop me and stretching herself all over me in other ways.

There was no particular luck between Tommie and Brandi's next show, though I'm happy to report ESMERELDA DID NOT QUIT AFTER ALL (see above).  Evidently, a girl can dish on what's going on behind the scenes -- but she may not dish very accurately.  Between Libra, Esmerelda, and Sarday, the club now has a strong and enchanting contingent of black dancers.

Sometime after Esmerelda danced, Brandi was back up -- and I REALLY liked this, wiht her in a black leather bare-butted biker suit with the Harley Davidson brand on it, all to the tune of George Thorogood's "Bad to the Bone."  I didn't get quite as mamma-slammed this time -- she'd been to me and done me, plus she had more crowd to play to -- but hey, it was another brandi strip, and this time around she slowly poured candle wax over her body in the third song.  (Although I miss my audience participation of pulling her blue jeans off fro that first show.)

After her show, I checked the listing of dancers and figured, Too rich for my blood, so I left, but not before Brandi smiled and waved at me before disappearing into the main lobby.  Oddly, I wonder about Tommie -- the owner wanted to see her, and I joked to her that it was like the principal seeing her, and she said, Oh, in school her principal knew her on a first name basis, she got called in so much.  I hope Tommie is doing all right.  I know Brandi did.

[DruulEmpire]

Yesterday's outing was pretty mild -- again, they seem to be having trouble getting girls to show up and match up with their online schedules, though it was sweet to see Libra finally turn up.  Sadly, she turned in her exotic black curls for a more Tyra Banks hairdo, but she remained hot.  Sadly, not nearly enough of the hot girls I expected turned up, at least not that early in the afternoon.

This may be it for me in May -- Claudia Monet was back, more on her in a bit, but a booking I recall for one Ashley Andrews seems to have dried up, and it looks like my Jada won't be back till late summer.  There's one gal, Gina Mond, who looks damn fine, I may come back for her, but that'll be pretty much it.

You know, we fought Fascism and we're getting some handle on racism, but now I must contend with a prejudice of my own -- facism.  A girl doesn't have quite the right face and that tends to throw me off.  Yesterday, though, I seriously had to reconsider that.  One dancer, I'll call her Toti, had a rather weak face, but her dancing and her attitude was so strong that I had to say to myself, Be sure to try her once in a while.  That happened with a few girls today.  I call it the Letha Weapons factor -- Letha's not the first girl I'd pick based on her still photography, but you see her in action and bam! it's a whole other dimension of appeal.

Anyhow, I got to try one new house girl and Claudia almost simultaneously, but first I'll talk a bit about the show.  Claudia came over and hugged and kissed just before the show, and she talked me up a little on stage too.  The dance was not that unique -- her skirt seemed bizarrely "fat" at first, took me a while to realize she was flingin' off layer after layer -- but she's good with the tease: Hmm, should I expose my knockers or not?  Should I pull off my g-string or not?  Hmm!  She got into it pretty good with us folk seated at the stage: I got to pour water all over her breasts and snatch, and she camped it up very nicely with one enthusiastic woman with very shallow breasts who was still game for lifting her braless top and exposing them so that Claudia could lez out a little with her -- good stuff.

Gotta split right this second to have breakfast with my sweet graying parents -- but I shall return to talk about one great find of a house girl, plus a booth dance with Claudia ... and a bodacious phantom in a leopardskin dress.  Hmm!

[DruulEmpire]

I'm calling her Houston, and not just because there was a porn star, I think a momentary fave of Howard Stern's, calling herself Houston.  She's a short young black-haired beauty, not a beauty in a glam way but just a very clear sharp fresh way, you worry that a sitcom might snatch her up.  Anyway, she was walking around with a goo-enough build in a nicely clinging white shirt, and I'd struck up some rapport with her during her dance.  In fact -- funny, I almost forgot to mention -- when I first came in there was still some tutorial going on between veteran dancers and newer ones, it was sweet to see.  A lot of discussion -- "Do what you feel," "Is hanging upside down on the pole overrated?" and "How do you 'glide' wearing these GIGANTIC platform shoes?"  Though newer, Houston was in a position to try to help the newest girls yet.

Anyway, right after Claudia's show I simply stood my ground and Houston kinda-sorta wound her way to me.  I bought her a Coors and we talked a bit -- the back-and-forth politics over banning smoking in local bars, raising her two-year-old, some of my own background -- and eventually I figured All right, get a dance off this one.  She did nicely to, very generously, she even waited and chatted with me PAST a song till a next one she liked even better came on, first time I've seen a girl do that for me.  (I gotta wonder  what the security thinks of me: the girls keep lingering with me and occasionally sticking their heads out and saying "I'm on my way out, honest!" )  Her repertoire wasn't that wide, none of that romantic "head past my shoulder," but she suggestively "rode" me VERY nicely, plus she seemed to have fun.  At one point (and I remind everyone that, yes, I stay clothed) she blurted "I like your dick, it's so nice and so hard!"  It's an easy enough line, I know, but she made it in such an easy, chatty, offhanded way, with a kind of cheery eagerness to divulge the information -- what can I say, she made an impression.  Definitely I'll have to see her again.

As I say, she snagged me right after Claudia's show -- so I come out of the booths and Claudia hugs me, having worried where I'd gotten to.  She has her wares out on a table and chats up another guy for a couple of minutes, but then she packs up and comes back with.  Sad to say, she's not as up on boob-smothering as she used to be -- a shame, because she has a great pair -- but she's very sensuous.  Bit of trivia: Claudia has hung with various rockers and even had a personal performance of her own in the soundtrack for her show, and evidently "catching one" is road talk for masturbating, as in "They caught me catching one," and evidently a good compliment to a woman is "I'm going to catch one in your honor."  Upshot of all this is that security took a Polaroid of me with Claudia -- IN THE BOOTH, which is a first, since they're usually out in the public area, and I do say it looks hot, our eyes were closed and you could see her "altogether."  She signed it "Catch one for me!" and I told "I'm going to catch a FEW for you," which she appreciated.

And that was about it.  Footnote: in other shit goin' down around this Forum, one woman peeked in here and then opted out -- but not before exchanging a few PMs with me.  Evidently she lives in my area, and she's keeping a hope alive of sighting her.  So throughout those two hours I had to wonder if I would catch sight of a certain Bodacious Mature Woman with Long Dark Hair With a Vague Sophie Marceau Vibe to Her Face, possibly even in a leopardskin dress with matching shoes.  She never showed, and perhaps she never will -- ahh, but if she DOES, sports fans, you're hearing it here first.

[berkovw]

You going to go check out Teri Weigel Druul?

[DruulEmpire]

I was leaning to passing -- but I'll tell you what, talk me into it and I'll go!

[berkovw]

Quote:
I was leaning to passing -- but I'll tell you what, talk me into it and I'll go!

What can I say other than she's a living legend?  It'd be like seeing Jenna Jameson or Traci Lords or Christy Canyon or Tiffany Towers.

Now, I'm not going, but that's just because I'm saving my money for my cross-country vacation, but if I weren't doing that, I'd definitely think about going.

[DruulEmpire]

Today fucking took me by storm.  It was sweet.  It was expensive, but it was sweet.

Thanks go out to Berk, especially for the magic words "Tabitha Towers."  He convinced me to go, and I just wish he could have struck up the discussion even earlier, so I could hit up the ol' ATM for one more day in advance -- but I was able to squeak by.

EVERYTHING was a little bit different today.  The veteran busty blonde bartender has been training the newer cleavage-blessed brunette bartender, and the brunette not only served me but chatted me up a little, rare that the bartenders and I say much of anything, as they tend to stick to girls' talk or chat up other customers.  Anyhow, this sweetie talked to me about how she loved to read and write all the time, how she kept journals and computer files and felt she had a book in her.  I'll have to pursue that topic with her at a later date.

First dancer up was Tommie (see above), and she was stuck at first with some song with lyrics like "I hate you," which didn't sound exactly conducive.  After her dance she 'fessed that she was feeling dragged out and tired from all she had don in the past dozen or so hours, but you couldn't prove it by me, she had fun with each observer she locked eyes with and kept flinging herself higher up that pole and hanging herself off it.  Anyhow, I sat down for the second song, and when I heard who was next, a nice-enough gal who just didn't have Tommie's mystique, I decided to get Tommie in the booth.

And I STAYED in that booth with her, for seven songs straight.  I don't know what the hell happened, but I damn near fell in love with Tommie today.  She is one darkly exotic and petite stick of dynamite, that's been established -- but she tried so much and was fun to listen to.  Her story is that she's among the youngest of eighteen(!!!) [censored], her mother has had twin and triplets.  Naturally, I asked if she had any sisters -- and you can thank your stars, male readers, that she said Yes, because we're talkin' primo DNA here.  Evidently one sister of hers is a  Victoria's Secret model, and I'm inclined to open that possibility.  She talked about all kinds of stuff, like how an autistic savant who could play Beethoven had a crush on her back in school (good taste, I'd say), or how she's raising pit bulls ("misunderstood," she says of them) and the occasional python and cobra.  She also admits that she did once ask -- with all the charming naivete of Shannon Elizabeth in Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back -- "What's a trouser snake?"

She charmed my own snake just fine.  She became very loving did an interesting move of standing sideways against me and still getting in a smooth pelvic grind.  She also massaged my neck and hands, and we were able to sneak past recent rules against boob touching, as she inspected my hands for possible carpal tunnel while my hands in turn inspected her full soft B-cups, looking quite formidable on so small a  woman.

Anyhow, I enjoyed her -- and was willing to take a pass on the other stage dancers -- so damn much that she was into me for seven dances, a small fortune, and if I may say, not the wisest of moves to make when Teri Weigel is the headliner.

I cam back out and was able to snag one last spare seat at the corner of the stage, in time for Teri ... more on that in a moment or two ...

[DruulEmpire]

Tommie actually talked up Teri a bit -- not all girls always do that for the headliner -- and called her a legend and said she had kept in great shape.  After Tommie gave me an extra hug and kiss, Teri's show was unlike any I'd seen before, as it was not show in the usual sense.  Like Lovette, she had her own lead-in announcement -- mentioning in passing something to the effect of her having played Al Bundy's fantasy wife on Married ... With Children.  (I took that as auspicious -- hey, anything to whittle down the "six degrees of separation" between myself and Christina Applegate!)  Then Teri came out and did not really strip so much as walked around lip-syncing and checking us out individually, while falling right out of her clothes.  She's a solidly built woman with a nice sultry face crowned in black hair, but what struck me most of all is how comfortable she is in her nudity, I mean, she could have been an accidentally nude TV news anchor, she was so nonchalant.  She went around suggesting fellatio and such -- she was not as athletically into it as I had seen, say, Claudia Monet her first time, but we applauded the spirit.  After the song she got a mic and talked up the audience.  I've never seen any headliner call for a cheer for the girls of the bar -- she even mentioned the buffet, for crying out loud.  (Now, that's just TOO generous.)

Next, she wanted to know if anyone was celebrating anything special.  One man at the stage claimed to have just gotten back out of prison for some gun charge of which he claimed innocence.  Teri alternately teased -- she was giving out a lot of what I call mamma-slamma to various audience members -- and kidded him.  "Can a white man dance?" she dared him, and he gave a ... shall we say, forgettable try.  Grappling with him, she got panties on him and declared "You're one of us now!" and tried to get him to pole dance.  Eventually she sat him back down, and for her third song she simply made her rounds giving out kisses and mamma-slamma -- but not without reaching into one man's underwear and yanking it so far up that he could wear it over one shoulder.

There was a fair line immediately after the show waiting to catch her in private -- and damned if Brigham (see above) didn't flash her highest wattage smile at me and seize right on me.  I had to tell her that I was "taken," and she enthusiastically talked about the other night.  Evidently someone was there for his 21st birthday, and Teri got him and a friend up on stage and performing a suggestion of doggie style on each other.  Vulgar, shameless, go-for-it ... the attraction of this Weigel woman was dawning on me.  Anyhow, I'm left to wonder why Brigham is latching onto me so magnetically ... I'll owe her sometime ...

I was the second of three getting dances with Teri, and my dance came up ...

[DruulEmpire]

I got a Polaroid off Teri first, and it is a fine one, she looks really alive and sassy in it, a total sex kitten.  (I've only lately been into Polaroids but have five so far -- and hope to show a previous one to a gal coming back next month.)  A dance with her was quite a proposition -- I had just wrecked my ship with Tommie, and now Teri was charging $120, that's DOUBLE any ordinary headliner's rate -- but I was in.

I'm not altogether sure how I feel about Teri -- she's sweet and sexy enough, but she's such a industrious whirlwind dating machine, I couldn't figure if she a bit cynical or maybe a bit tired.  After all, she had three more shows coming up in the next twelve hours, and I was the second of three customers.

Anyway, she sat me down and did a bit of an interview -- always awkward, because I'm always trying NOT to think or talk about work -- especially with Teri Weigel, c'mon!  Anyway, she could tell I was a relatively sedate guy and started cozying up.

Have to say, these days, with the restored touchiness about breast play, it's always refreshing when a woman actually GRABS my hands and plants them on her breasts, sort of a declaration of All bets are off.  I approve of Teri's huge rack -- augmented, of course, but whereas I've had an attraction-repulsion thing going, fascinated by the sheer size but wondering at the hardness, hers managed to be both big and quite pliable, great to play with.  She also gave me several good smotherings with them.

A lot of the song got wasted on her trying to jack me off.  Maybe this is a point of pride, or even of ego, with some sex stars, but I know my own neurology best and nothing -- sorry, not even Teri (who already begins to loom larger than the great Lovette in my estimation) -- can jack me that easily, I need either my own fantasy-intensive patient handling or The Big V, no alternatives.  So she finally relented a bit, and stretched all over me and began moaning nicely -- and that was the song.

So there I was like a crack addict, plunking down the last twenties and tens I had -- and I was right, it was the correct investment, because the second song REALLY heated up.  At one point I had a good cycle of breasts-hips-ass-hips-brrasts, over and over, and we had a good suggestive gallop going as she knelt on top of me.  I'm thankful that she's not too damn gentle with me, she got right one me and I bore her weight, and my face happily bore the pressure of her great cleavage.  The second song worked out to be a really great sultry moment.  We hugged, and she hoped I had some great memories, and I told her "I see what all the excitement about you is all about."

And, man, I had to tear out of there.    A VERY expensive day, but one that really resonates in the memory.

I do hope that's something like what Berk wanted.