This is a special story. The young woman’s name is Lolita, and she is a professional dancer. This is not her dream but just for now her profession. This young woman has dreams and aspirations of a better work life for herself.
We find a Lolita, Candice, Daniel, Trish or just pick a professional name in any gentlemen’s clubs across this country. A lot of these women work right here near L.A.X.
Why you ask? The reason is L.A.X. is one of the last West Coast stops after leaving Las Vegas. L.A. is also big on adult entertainment like Vegas.
Lolita is a smart beautiful young woman. She has a figure that makes a man wish he was her lover. She has the face like that of the goddess Venus. She has an hour-glass body that can make a man in awe of her perfection.
It is said that her beauty could sink a thousand ships. She takes your breath away like the setting of the sun down on the bayou and is just as mysterious. She is a young woman who is studying to be a lawyer and is still in college. Smarts and beauty don’t always seem to go together but for Lolita they work in her favor, big-time.
Lolita struggles to scratch out a living hour by hour, day-by-day, and year by year just like the rest of us. We need to think of these women as sisters, daughters, wives and mothers of someone else. We as a biker community are an it is all about me society.
These women set the boundaries in these establishments and we should respect that as we respect any other profession. I have been side by side with brothers with Bowie knives drawn looking at the barrel of a loaded gun because of a wrong interpretation or something said with the wrong intentions.
So, let us show a little respect for what these women use their looks and body to get by. Just remember the Lolitas could be your sister or daughter, or hell a granddaughter. Remember, that no is no, stop is stop and here is my number means whatever she tells you it means, nothing more. It’s all about respect for another human being.
–Gearhead
Editor’s note: This is interesting. I recently had a conversation with my tall, knockout granddaughter, who was moving to Hawaii. I congratulated her on this new adventure but threw in a couple of warnings. I told her about the façade of beauty. Think about it. A kid grows up skinny and not so good looking. Her personality is somewhat locked in place by the time she’s 10 and suddenly at 14-16 she starts to change and become a goddess.
It’s a façade to us dogs, and to her, she may not know what the appeal is all about, until it’s too late. The bottom line is that hot momma over there is a human being under that crimson wavy hair, carefully applied make-up, and a shape to die for, scary shit.
