Not The Lunch I Was Expecting

A few days ago, a letter arrived addressed to me, but it started out, "Dear Owner of Audi, VIN# A*******, etc." informing me of a problem with the ignition system that they were willing to fix as it was a, "recall". This letter's forthcoming had been told to me in a previous letter, that told me they would send the second letter, when the dealers all had the parts to fix it, so it wasn't a surprise. And I've never had a problem with this car, but if they think I MIGHT, well, I'll take it in.

I called the dealer, and they said if I could drop it off today, they could fix it tomorrow, and I could get the car back in a day. Or, two. Tops. OK, I have something else to drive. And these guys have always treated me well.

Well, Deb and, Meagan were going to go up to spend the day with, Deb's mom, so I asked my neighbor, Ernie, if he would follow me down to Audi, and give me a ride home. And even offered to buy him lunch for his time.

After all, the Audi dealer is right in the neighborhood of my old office, and I know a BUNCH of really good restaurant's in the neighborhood. Curry In A Hurry, The Other Place Cafe, La Frontera, The Red Iguana, Soup Kitchen Richards Street, Astro Burger, Moochie's, Shanghai Cafe, An Hong, Hunan Kitchen... The list is endless, and all these places are within ten blocks of the Audi dealer.

Just about every kind, region, ethnicity of food is in the downtown, SLC area these days. And you can go to the, Bayou and get gumbo now, without a membership. I will take my friend to someplace great, and give him the best lunch he's had in ages!

He picks me up in his pick up, and I ask him, "Well, what do you want for lunch?" He says, "I'm gong to, Trails." Oh. Great.

For those of you not familiar with the SLC, "Club scene" (and I use THAT term, only because I don't know what ELSE to call it), "Trails' is a, "Gentleman's Club". Or at least what passes for one in SLC. Here the girls have to wear, "pasties", and stay 3 feet from the patrons. No lap dances here. This isn't Las Vegas.

Now, don't get me wrong. I might be 51 years old, but I am not opposed to seeing beautiful, young (but over 21, for crying out loud) girls in various stages of undress. And when I was in college, my friends and I frequented these places almost every weekend.

But not for food. Not for lunch. Only for drinks, and hanging in close proximity to young, beautiful girls in various states of undress.

But, hey, I told my friend, I'd buy him lunch wherever he wanted to go. And this is where he wanted to go. So I'm in.

I haven't been in, Trails since before I retired. And the last 30 years, when EVER I was in, Trails or any of the other, "Show Bars" in SLC, it was because I was working. Looking for a fugitive who was hanging out there, or a sex offender who was attracted to that kind of bar.

The good news? It's no longer a cloud of blue smoke. The bad news? The cheeseburger was mediocre at best, and the fries were shitty. The OTHER good news? We each had a burger and fries, and a soda and the bill was $12.

But with the perspective of someone my age, this whole scene is like a casino. A hand full of old guys, who think they have a shot at, "Scoring" with the very pretty, but, "high mileage unit's" on the stage.

Not exactly the, "flop sweat" of desperation, but the feeling of dreams that will never be fulfilled. On either end.

The girls are just working the guys, and if the guys don't know it, then good for the girls.

I remember going into the, Joker Lounge on 200 South, just east of State Street on some weekend night in college with a bunch of my friends, and handing some, Dancer a dollar bill and, thinking I was funny, saying, "You're so pretty. I want to have your children."

She said, "Great! Pick em' up after school on Monday, I need a break." She took my money, and taught me a lesson.

I won't have lunch at, Trails again. I, probably won't go into, Trails again. But I guess I learned something today. I'm too old for that game.