“Right!” Martin shouted to his wife. “I'm off for a bit.”
“You'd better not be going to that club,” she shouted back from the kitchen. “I'm telling you Martin, I can't live like this.”
“Oh lay off, I'll be back in a little while.” He left without waiting for a reply, letting the screen door slam shut behind him. He drove across the small town where he and his wife had grew up, went to school, and married right after graduation. Things had been quiet, peaceful, until Indulgences was built on the city limits. He'd been going there every night since it opened. After all, he worked hard all day and a man needs to blow off steam, no matter what the wife says.
He pulled into the gravel lot and parked his beat up pickup next to all the other beat up pickups and went inside. There were a few familiar faces, which he politely nodded to, but no one was there for conversation. They were there for the show. He sat down at a table near the stage and ordered a scotch on the rocks from the somewhat homely waitress. As she went to put in his order, the lights dimmed and the music started playing. He'd arrived just in time.
A spotlight lit up the stage and the curtains drew back to reveal a row of dancers wearing nothing but top hats and tap shoes. They began to move their furry boddies in perfect unison with one another in an intricate dance routine that would have been more at home on a Broadway stage than in a smoky bar in the sticks. The waitress brought his drink and he leaned back, scotch in hand.
“You tap-dancing hamsters,” he said with a grin. “You rock my world, with your little blurry feet."
Inspired by Sleep Talking Man