Mad Dog Steel Time
by
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Chapter 22 Todd dropped the crew off at the show up area. As Filer got out of the company truck Todd said, “Get cleaned up and I’ll come by and pick you up for the trip to Fred’s.” Filer was curious about Fred’s so he agreed to the trip. Like most of the linemen he got bored sitting in his trailer. A man could only watch so much T.V., or read so many Louie L’Amour novels. Before he showered Filer picked up a special family photo in which he had posed with Abbey and Kylie. Thirty minutes later Todd knocked on Filer’s door and came into the trailer while Filer put on his boots. The two men spent the time it took driving to Missoula talking about leaving their families to come and work in Montana. Todd had a wife and teenage son in Utah. He assured Filer he wasn’t a Mormon. The way he talked Filer got the sense that he missed his family. Filer reciprocated by telling Todd about Abbey and Kylie. Inside the city limits of Missoula Todd easily found his way to Fred’s. A neon light outside the bar proclaimed LIVE NUDE STRIPPERS. “Abbey definitely wouldn’t approve of this,” Filer thought. Todd found a space in a parking lot filled with working hands’ rigs. “Come on ‘Mad Dog’. There are live strippers inside,” Todd quoted off of the neon sign. A huge black man stood guard at the door to Fred’s, collecting a five dollar fee just to get into the establishment. “That’s a little pricey,” Filer complained to Todd. “Quit your bitching,” Todd said and pushed through the double door into the darkened interior of the strip joint. As Filer’s eyes adjusted to the dim bar lights, his attention was drawn to a runway sprouting duel chrome poles. Two young women were wrapped around the poles in various stages of undress. The chairs and tables closest to the runway were occupied by men waving dollar bills to get the strippers’ attention. Filer turned to Todd and saw a certain look in his eyes that told Filer it was going to be an exciting night for him. Todd found an empty table two rows back from the runway. He still didn’t look like he had given up on getting a front row seat. “We’ll have to wait until one of the tables next to the runway opens up,” Todd advised Filer. Filer could tell Todd had been to Fred’s before and hadn’t had his fill of tits and ass yet. And that seemed a little strange to Filer if Todd was a happily married man. Maybe the word strange had something to do with it-as in strange stuff. Soon enough a topless cocktail waitress named Shirley came to their table to take their drink orders. Shirley had brunette hair and honey brown eyes. With her fine figure, she would have been hard to miss all of her clothes on. Filer ordered a beer, planning to stay sober in case he had to drive back to Deer Lodge. Todd ordered a Seven and Seven, and tried to pat Shirley on the butt, but she was too fast for him and got away un-patted. The runway strippers were getting near the end of their number and as a finale they took off their pull away G-strings revealing strategically placed pasties. The women then ran off the runway with tips from their G-strings filling both hands. The crowd whistled and hollered for more. Shirley came back to Filer’s and Todd’s table with their drinks. “That’s a pretty good act your strippers have,” the always friendly Filer commented to Shirley. “You think that’s good. Do you want to see a dragon’s tail?” Shirley asked Filer, and pointed to the head of a full color, fire breathing dragon tattooed on her flat stomach. “Yes I would Shirley,” Filer said. Todd had his eyes on a table about to be emptied by the runway and wasn’t paying any attention to the exchange between Filer and Shirley. Shirley moved closer to Filer until she was standing between his knees, and then pulled her spandex shorts outward and down enough so Filer could see where the dragon’s tail disappeared into her bikini shaved pubis. Filer stared at the dragon until Shirley snapped her spandex shorts closed and leaned forward and whispered, “If you want to see more, I’ll be off work at two a.m.” “I’ll have to think about it Shirley,” Filer said not holding out much promise to Shirley. Along with the price of the drinks Filer slipped Shirley a twenty dollar bill. “What was that all about?” Todd wanted to know. “Shirley and I were just getting to know each other a little better,” Filer answered with a smile. A disheveled man wearing a gray cotton hooded sweater and aviator sunglasses left a runway table. Todd grabbed his Seven and Seven and almost knocked over the table they were sitting at getting to the empty table. “This ought to be good,” Filer said to himself, and wondered how long it would take Todd to decide whatever he was looking at-he’d seen it before. Filer picked up his beer and moved to the empty table with Todd. When the two men had settled into their seats another pair of dancers emerged on the runway from behind curtains blocking the view into the dressing room hallway. The M.C. announced the pair as Phyllis and Daphne. Daphne was a blond with small but perfect breasts, and a full body on a small, well muscled frame. Phyllis, a redhead with full breasts and long legs, moved down the runway and started dancing in front of Todd and Filer. Todd waved a single at the edge of the runway and Phyllis stooped down low so he could tuck it into her G-string. Then she was off to the other side of the runway dancing for a business type wearing a suit coat with a loosened tie. “Damn,” Todd said, “just when I was making headway.” “You wish,” Filer thought, “I can’t believe this guy is married, and now he’s this desperate for a peak at pussy.” Todd spoke in Filer’s direction without taking his eyes off the runway, “So what do you think, ‘Mad Dog’? Is Fred’s worth the trip?” Filer didn’t say anything. One of the strippers must have sensed Todd’s eyes on her because she turned her back on the business man and came across the runway to dance in front of Todd and Filer. Her move put a huge smile on Todd’s face. Filer took a five dollar bill out of his pocket and held it up so Phyllis could see it. The attractive redhead moved to the edge of the runway and pulled her G-sting away from her thigh so Filer could place the five under the G-string. Phyllis smiled at Filer; and Todd, who was ready with another single. Filer knew Abbey wouldn’t approve of the way he was spending his allowance, but what the hell, he had to do something to keep his spirits up. Shirley had been watching while Filer put the fiver in Phyllis’ G-string and came back to his table. “Hey Mr. Tall and Bearded Stranger,” Shirley addressed Filer. Todd spoke up, “This is ‘Mad Dog’ ma’am. And my name is Todd. Shirley barely glanced in Todd’s direction and then said, “ Well, ‘Mad Dog’, my stage name is Glitter and I can do better for you than Phyllis up there,” after saying this Shirley, who’s stage name was Glitter, leaned forward and put her breasts on either side of Filer’s face. With Filer’s beard brushing her cheeks Glitter whispered, “You earned this with the twenty and besides I wanted to see how your beard feels on my skin.” Filer knew either he would be let down this night, or Glitter would. With thoughts of Abbey in mind he decided he and Glitter were destined to be just friends. So that’s the way he would play it. Shirley had straightened up and backed away a step, waiting for Filer to say something. “Glitter darlin’, I don’t get up here very often, but when I do, you and I are definitely going to be good friends. I need all the friends I can get in this world,” Filer explained. A look of disappointment passed over Glitter’s face when she registered what Filer had just told her. Todd acted like he’d had enough of Fred’s and suggested they should start back to Deer Lodge. Filer agreed.
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About the Book
Filer ‘Mad Dog’ Wilson, journeyman lineman, has settled down with a family and a nine to five job doing distribution work for P. G. & E. in Portland, Oregon. His involvement with ex cons, a philandering boss, copper thieves, and high voltage transmission work is behind him. (Read The Copper Thieves) Then he is told of the sudden unexpected death of his father; and soon after the funeral, he is given notice of a seasonal layoff by P. G. and E. His wife Abbey tells him he should take some time off, but Filer would sooner work through the loss of his father. Ozzie Harper, a long time friend, gives Filer the chance to return to the excitement of transmission work doing electrical construction and wire work on steel towers, in Deer Lodge, Montana. It isn’t long after arriving in Deer Lodge that Filer is once again caught up in adventures with bikers, kidnappers, movie stars and strippers; and all of this after his dangerous day job as a journeyman lineman.
About the Author
Why do I write? Asking why I write is like asking extreme athletes why they participate in their sports. They like the way their bodies respond to the activity. Fitness is a secondary benefit. Writers write because writing exercises the mind and the end result of words on a page having a pattern and a rhythm satisfies the human necessity for pleasing and effective communication. How am I qualified to write what I’m writing and what I’ve written? If you are an aspiring writer, you’ve probably heard the advice-“write what you know.” I’ve had a lucky life. My uncle once said my nickname should be Lucky. I agree with him, just not for his reasons. Having served in the Navy during the Vietnam War, I attended Idaho State University on the G.I. Bill. Later, while working as a Library Associate for the Chicago Public Library, I earned a Master’s Degree in Library Science paid for by the City of Chicago. The City of Chicago built a new central library and needed more librarians. The cheapest and best way to get more librarians was to encourage Library Associates to become Librarians by paying for them to go to Library School. To earn my M.L.S., I worked full time at the library and attended Library School part time for two years. What is my point? I’ve been lucky to be able to take advantage of various opportunities that have come to me by working to make the most of them. On the other hand, I’ve had a lot of experiences in my life because I didn’t have a particular ambition or an overall plan for my life from an early age. This means that I’ve filled the inbetweens with a lot of different experiences which increased my “what you know” factor. Walt Disney World employee, ground man for an electrical construction company, Peace Corps Volunteer, Community Action agent, Substitute Teacher , plus all of the various day labor jobs I’ve done fill out my “what you know” list. What is my purpose or motive for writing? Retirement has presented me with another lucky opportunity. I have the daily opportunities to work on my property and to write the books I’ve always told myself I could write if I had the time. I write because I like the way I can put words on the page for the same reason I like to landscape and care for my property. If you drive by and like the way my lawn looks that is a plus. If readers like what I’ve written and tell me they like what I’ve written for whatever reasons-this is also a plus. Is there an underlying philosophy to my fiction writing? I would have to answer that trying to understand the debate between nature and nurture is a big part of my writing. What are our natural abilities? How do we respond to human instinct after the influences of education and training? Can the human spirit be raised about animal instincts? What is the civilizing impulse in humans and how do we use it? In a broad sense, my characters are turned loose in their fictional environments, where they find their way by responding to the nature versus nurture question. To the question-Why should I be allowed to write and even publish? My answer is a question-Why should I be allowed to breathe? Beginning in 2004 I've lived in Soda Springs, Idaho closer to my family. For the last year my brother Everett and I have been collaborating on Mad Dog Steel Time. Mad Dog Steel Time is a novel based on his years in Montana building a steel tower transmission power line.