A Body for Sale

The clock rang 10:00 pm. The pub was empty. She majestically loomed out of the entrance, dressed in a jewelled-like red coat, headed straightforwardly towards the ladies room. Exactly after quarter an hour, she appeared out again in an almost-naked dress. Too different; too sexy!

Secluded in a corner, I was impatienty waiting for her appearance. She was the star of that samedi soir. Many men strived to have a seat close to her, yet not all of them could easily achieved this goal. It seemed that only foreigners-- non-Moroccan speakers-- could gain the neighbouring seat of the "lady". In my secluded corner was I still binocularing  her moves: the way she caressed her hair, the professional way of holding the cigarette, her grimaces, her sipping of wine, and her putting off of the fags.

Finally with difficulty, a man, a foreigner of course, an Italian-like figure, could convince her from afar through various grins and blinks to share some mugs together. Of course now he was to pay double, his and hers. The "lady", after sipping the condensend-brown liquid, began to move her shoulder in harmony with music. Ten minutes had elapsed, and now she started dancing hilariously with every part of her well-designed body. The Italian-like man seized the opportunity, and started passing his hands over the dancing body, especially the breasts. A sexy scene par excellence : countless French kisses, "Italian"  hugs, "German"  Shouts, and much more.

Professionalism turned  into animalism, moving from the sublime to the ridiculous . The brown-like drink had had its effect on her, but not on him. Every imaginable pornographic scene, save direct sexual intercourse, was displayed. the man looked at his wristwatch, paid the barman, then left the pub. The "lady" was left alone, turning back to her first state: awake, majestic and professional. Another man, of course not  Moroccan, was to fall prey, replacing the leaving man who paid a well-filled in bill. The second prey repeated the very same scenario, paying with the aim of exploiting the body for sale.

The beholder--that is me-- of both scenarios smilinglly regretfully decided to take off, thinking of sharing both scenarios with his-- i.e,my--  Facebookian friends.