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We all peered around at the trash, beer cans, and cigarette buds everywhere.
I heard a man say, “She may have a point.”
I promised, “But I can still keep it rugged.” Then I snuck in, “And-maybe-a-playground-for-kids.” Quickly rerouting, I turned to walk to the other side of the back yard. “And over here…”
“Did she just say playground?”
“This Precious is a sneaky one.”
“Next thing you know, we’re going to have beauty parlor.”
I pointed to all the rural land behind us. “Too bad we don’t own those.” I stared at a few rundown cabins off in the distance.
“We do.”
I faced Legend. “Really?”
His upper lip curled. “I don’t like neighbors, so I bought it all.”
I smirked. “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
“See?” said a biker. “Sneaky. She’s now going after Pops’ ego.”
Ignoring the complaints, I headed back to the front of the home. “Now let’s discuss pimpin’ out a man cave.”
Many leather boots scurried across the gravel, trying to catch up to me.
Entering the building, I asked, “Wouldn’t it be cool if the first thing you see when coming home is pool tables?” I moved along the outer wall. “Here, arcade games—”
“Galaxy?” a Stallion asked.
I had no idea which game that was, but that didn’t stop me from rolling my eyes. “Uh, duh?” Then I quickly scribbled ‘galaxy’ on my clipboard with a colored pencil. “Over here is the infamous corner.”
Grown, deadly men gasped.
“That’s right.” I licked my teeth like a gangster. “Here is where we will house the ‘moving’ stripping pole.”
Legend leaned in and whispered, “Stripper, not ing.”
To cover my mistake, and save face, I made up, “No, no, dear Legend of the magnificent Stallions. When I say ‘stripping’ pole it’s because ladies can strip while it’s ‘moving’.”
Men stumbled, grabbing their chests.
“Oh, yes, leathered angels. Your ‘wings’ shall grow with this pole of all poles.”
“I love her,” echoed from somewhere in the growing crowd.
My man, now on to my trickery, winked at me, so I continued, “Over here, near your infamous pole, imagine a jukebox, with country music, old rock-n-roll, and music for club girls to slip and slide—” I gazed at the captivated men, “Well, you know.” I snapped my head to Lynx, “But not you.”
“Ohhhhhhhh!” Men hollered.
Not missing a beat, I walked into the middle of the large living room. “Furniture, perfectly placed about for your pleasure and comfort, like oversized leather couches, end tables, and coffee tables for beer, shots, and boots.”
“We can put our boots on the table?” happily piped in a Stallion.
I smirked. “Is this not your clubhouse?”
Behind where I was gesturing the couches would be, I said, “Over there is where we will have high-top tables for those in the mood for the bar vibe.”
