We were at a strip club.

Tony and Melissa were in a corner somewhere making out. Was she dancing before? I don't know, but a girl who looked just like Penelope Cruz-and I mean pretty damn close to her started talking to me and...one of my friends. Yes. She was pretty. Really. Which was a surprise cuz' this place was one of those joints that heavily utilize the wonders of the black light. The light that pot-smoking hippies still use to listen to shitty Grateful Dead songs by. The light that also makes all of the fat, dimples, and post child-bearing stretch marks of strippers disappear. Well, sometimes. Here's the kicker folks...her body was to die for...but, unfortunately her voice made you want to die. It was that bad. That high. That shrill. She was nice. And talked alot. About tonight. Where she was from. Her kid ( Surprise Surprise ) . She had energy. The gift of stripper gab. She was pretty. And pretty awful. She sat and talked to the whole group of us for a long, long time because......we kept on paying her to. Over and over. Engaging her in conversation. Tipping an annoying voice? Yeah. Y'know-I think It was the best money I've ever spent at a strip club.

Ha.

Sad?

Yes.

Funny?

Also, Yes.