Is That All There Is?

We’d been at it for a couple of hours, drinking Jim Beam and shootin’ the shit about near misses and broken dreams. That’s when Oliver said, “Man, I’d really like to go see some ladies. I know a place in Hell’s Kitchen. Let’s go and see some ladies.”
The scene inside the strip club could only be described as perfect. Good music. Nipples. Interesting people. The standing aroma of sweat and cheap perfume. A meandering haze of cigarette smoke above the bar, this was before Kaiser Bloomberg and his smoking ban. The bartender was cool and we were having a delightful time.
We did a shot with the bartender. Then it happened. She asked us two questions that I will never forget. “Do you smell something burning?” Immediately followed by, “I mean other than my cigarette?”
Someone yelled, “Fire!” We saw fumes coming from the back. Next thing I know, everyone was being evacuated from the strip club. The evacuation process was nothing like the fire drills I remember practicing as a kid. Instead of calm, single-file lines of people making their way to the exits, many naked women were running around naked. There was jostling and fear. In all the excitement, a lot of people were trying to cop free “feels”. There were also some threatening remarks.
Nobody was injured. The firemen got there quick, they were incredible. But it was too late. We were all watching from across the street as the place burned down. We found out the fire was caused by a customer who had inadvertently backed his pickup truck into the gas line of the club.
The three of us stood there and took turns drinking from the bottle of whiskey I had slipped outside during the stampede. The chaos. The flames. Our brush with death. There we were. Three friends in Hell’s Kitchen trying to wrap our heads around an entirely bizarre turn of events. We gave each other hugs. I think we also learned a valuable survival lesson that night. If at any point in your life you’re at a strip club in Hell’s Kitchen and someone asks if you smell something burning other than their cigarette, put your pants on, grab some whiskey, and run.

