We didn’t want to pack it in - we’d spent a lot on booze and had a good buzz going and didn’t want to waste it. It was very late so we decided to go up to Scrub-A-Dub – the strip club up the Texaco road. I guess Fabs figured that since he wasn’t going to get any, he might just as well go up there and have a good look at what he was missing out on.

So we hiked out to the road and flagged a taxi.
Scrub-A-Dub. What a place.

Our taxi eased up to the heavy gates and a pair of burly, tough-looking dudes came out and looked into the back seat. They gave Fabs and me the once-over.

“Okay,” one of them said and nodded. The tall gates swung slowly open. We rolled into the yard. I had a flash that we were passing through the gates of Mordor - in a way, we were. We climbed out of the taxi and entered the establishment, where we were thoroughly frisked.

Inside it was almost totally devoid of any light and the music was ridiculously loud. We were a bit disoriented, but worked our way over to a table and settled down. Within a minute our eyes adjusted to the darkness. Within another minute there were three dancers at our table. Two of them were sitting in Fabs’ lap; he had an arm wrapped around each and was grinning widely. The girls were very friendly and they were gorgeous. They had quick hands too; caressing our thighs, squeezing our shoulders, tickling the backs of our necks - and deftly sneaking into our pockets. We knew from previous visits that some of the girls at Scrub-A-Dub will pick you clean if given the opportunity.

The front wall of the club was covered in a lattice-work of interlinked piping. Several dancers, in various stages of undress, were clambering across the pipes like harpy spiders. It was fascinating.

I could go on, but I won’t. What goes down in Scrub-A-Dub . . . you know. Let’s just say that Fabs and I stayed there for a few hours. In fact, we stayed just as long as our cash supply lasted.

When we stepped outside, the sky to the east was just starting to show some bashful pink. Prior to entering the club, Fabs and I had each had stashed $500J in the soles of our shoes for taxi fare back down to the beach. There are no taxis at that time of the night/morning, so we talked a rude bwoy that was hanging around outside the club to shuttle us.

Back at the hotel, I said goodnight to Fabs and as I closed the door to my room I heard a rooster crowing.

Yup, for a first night, it wasn’t bad.