Hungry Like a Wolf

Two six-foot tall Foo Dog statues stand on either side of the large steel doors that lead into Hungry Like a Wolf. Armed men patrol the block and guard the doorway (READ: THERE ARE NO WEAPONS ALLOWED IN HUNGRY LIKE A WOLF). There are no windows to speak of, but that's typical for a strip bar.

The music is blaring on the inside as women dance for dollars and men eagerly give it to them. The lighting gives the entire place a slightly red hue to it. The decorations are Oriental in design, save for the two-story tall painting of a grinning wolf with a less than child-like Little Red Riding Hood riding on his back.

At the front is a large stage with four poles on it that reach the ceiling. Unless it's a special performance, there are anywhere between four and eight women on the stage at all times.

Surrounding that stage are two skinnier L-shaped stages for people who want a closer viewing. On the back and side walls are the bars that have every drink imaginable.

The second floor is VIPs only and is where the rumored "Cognac Room" is.

Damned bums. It sort of reminds me of back when I was younger. Not so much difference between them and myself. I guess that is why they weren't too objected to pointing me in the right direction. We have a kind of kinship, the bums and I. They picked up on it.

That's one of my gifts. I can't read or write very well, but I know what to look for and who to turn to when you got nowhere else to go. The bums may smell kinda funny and be a little rude, but they know more about their city than the damned mayor. So, long story short, I bump into a group of 'em and ask about this Hungry Like a Wolf place the trucker told me about. Turns out its down in a place called Industry Corner. Not too far to walk from where I am.

Doesn't take a genius to find the place. Big scary looking gargoyle dog things. Foo Dogs is what the bums had called them. Never heard of a Foo Dog but it sounds pretty gay, sort of like something from a Bruce Lee movie. Lots of armed dudes are hangin' around, eying me like they would eye a brick wall and with about as much concern.

I can't see in the place, no windows has that effect. I could hear the music though. Pounding bass. My kinda scene. I walk up to the big steel doors and raise my hands into the air. No guns. One of the armed dudes moves over and frisks me. He gets down to one of my legs and I say to him, "Yo don't forget the third one Grabby."

"F*ck off," he says before moving to open up the doors.

I laugh and step by him, flipping a quarter at him. "Buy yourself a sense of humor." Inside the music is so loud I can barely hear myself think. Half naked girls are dancing all over the place. I'm startin' to like this joint already. I also notice the bar...bar sweet bar. So I move over to it, wondering if the place cards. I decide to try my luck.

"Yo...someone get me a glass of Jack?"