The Ethos of Jigga Maxx

Nare Necessity

Last night (or this morning, if you will), I went to Scarlett’s Cabaret in Miami. Several dancers accosted me for dances, as is usual, and I politely declined their offers.

One dancer named Carmen crept up on me with a subtle rub of my shoulders, sat in my lap and proceeded to put her hand up my shirt and anywhere she could get it in order to persuade me. I told her I wasn’t used to this sort of thing, and she questioned my intrigue in her 42DD bust. I apologized for my disinterest and she stared at me inquisitively.

Finally, she withdrew, but not before giving me a kiss on my nose that was as gentle as a leaf falling to the ground and as soft as the breeze that carried it away.

It was the most intimate gesture I’ve ever received.