Mandy giggled, almost falling over. “He’s right in front of you, in the flesh. How can he be photoshopped?”
It just didn’t seem real. He was too perfect to be real. His pants were ripped off next.
“It’s getting hot in here,” Sandy said, fanning herself. “Take it OFF!”
He went full Monty and Jasmin actually gasped. It was huge, so much bigger than she ever thought a penis could be. And he swung it around like it was an arm or something. “That is a cock! That is an actual cock!”
“And THAT is the right size equipment,” Candy said with a wide grin.
There were a few dancers after that. A fireman and a pilot, but her personal favorite was the police officer. He was positively drool-worthy and he came to the table to grind up on the bride-to-be. Mandy pushed him away, saying that only one man grinds up on her. Reluctantly, he turned to the rest of them, smiling as he climbed onto their table. Thrusting his hips, he slowly slid his hand down his rock hard abs and into his underwear. Jasmin’s eyes widened as she stared up at this dancing Adonis and she felt trapped between fits of giggles and trepidation of what was about to come. He was about to release his man appendage and he was dangerously close to her face. She felt like she was watching a horror movie. Her face was buried in Candy’s shoulder, but she was still peeping, just waiting to see what happened next.
Police officer pulled off his underwear and the crowd erupted with whoops.
Sandy rubbed her hands up and down his legs. “Give us a helicopter dick!”
Jasmin didn’t know what that was, but it became apparent a few seconds later. “How is he doing that?” She was equally flabbergasted and awe-struck. “My fragile, young mind will never be the same again.”
Although the strippers were the highlight of her evening, the fun didn’t stop once it was over. They played a drinking game, taking a shot every time Sandy said something dumb or inappropriate and she could feel herself becoming more inebriated with every passing hour.
“Okay,” Mandy said, “give us your best pick-up line…with a pout. Now that we’ve gotten you out of those sweatpants, let’s work on your flirting skills.”
Jasmin thought about it for a few seconds. “Okay. I got one…Hey, stud. According to the second rule of thermodynamics…”She threw in the pout just then. “…you’re supposed to share your hotness with me.”
There was silence around the table. Three pairs of discombobulated eyes were focused on her at once.
“What the fuck?!” Candy shouted, abruptly ending the silence.
Sandy slapped her shoulder, expressing her utter disappointment. “Who are you? Amy Farah Fowler? That is the worst pick-up line ever! It would only work on Sheldon.”
“I saw it while I was doing some research and I thought it was really smart,” Jasmin countered. “A bit corny, but really smart. And…at the same time, it’s also…kinda sexy.” They still weren’t convinced and her drunken brain had to find a way to describe it just right. “Aw, c’mon. In every reaction, some energy is always lost to heat and…heat…” It was becoming a little harder to talk now. “…will naturally flow from a warm body to a cooler body, so…you’re supposed to share your hotness with me? Get it?”
“You explained it,” Sandy said, squinting her eyes like the explanation made her head hurt. “And now I’m actually more confused. Flirting is not supposed to be smart. Playful, yes. Dirty, definitely. But it shouldneverbe smart.”
“You know what?” Mandy said, sounding much more sober than she was. “When you get back upstairs, use that line on Loverboy and let’s see if he thinks it’ssexy.”
Candy looked over at her then. “Speaking about Kevin. Is there…something happening between the two of you?”
Jasmin snorted. “No! Kevin doesn’t even like me.”
“Are you sure? I mean, the way he looks at you…I just thought…”
The way he looked at her wasn’t something she should get excited about. It was merely his reaction to surprise. “Trust me, he has no interest in me.”
“What about you? Do you like him?”
The events of the day flashed through the intoxicated haze of her mind, causing it to spin with uncertainty and unanswered questions. “Only two percent of the time,” she replied.
“So tomorrow we’re gonna have a blast,” Mandy said, pulling them out of their private conversation. “We’re gonna do a full tour of Vegas and you’re coming with us, Brandy. I’ll introduce you to Trevor and his younger brother, Dean. You’ll love Dean.”
“Dean is yummy,” Sandy agreed. “Will you come?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.” Mandy took out her cell phone and tried with difficulty to focus on the screen. “Okay, so I have eight hundred and sixty dollars left of my budget, give or take, and three days left in Vegas so—”
“Why are you so pedantic about this stuff?” Sandy groaned. “Let’s just have fun.”
“I need a daily budget. How will I have fun if I run out of money?” She looked back at her phone.
