On Saifon's first night at the manger, she finished her first set of songs and was real surprised when they clapped her. She didn't have her skirt up round her ass or foam rubber down her brazier, so they must of been clapping her voice.
They weren't just being polite neither. There was eight singers altogether. Two of 'em knew Vietnamese songs. But none of 'em could sing in English and American music was big even then.
The system at the manger was exactly the same as the Inn Diana Butterfly. You get up on the stage, sing, show your stuff, and go down and sit a spell with the boys. You let 'em fondle some and lead 'em to believe they're your one and only. You help 'em drink, persuade 'em to buy something more expensive and something for you. Then when they think it's their lucky day, you gently break it to 'em that you can't go out back with 'em this time, but you surely will if they come back again. Men are vain enough to believe that shit.
If you get it right you can work up to eight tables a night, and have a dozen guys coming back just to see you. And the good thing is, you don't actually have to give out to none of 'em.
But, there at the manger, there was a couple of small differences to the system that messed her up. First, the girls all went out back with the guys cause they needed every cent they could get and tips wasn't enough. Second, in Indiana, the lady drinks they brought you wasn't the lady drinks the guys ordered for you. For example, rum and coke's all coke. But the barman bites a slice of lemon to the top of the glass that's been soaked overnight in rum. See? If the disbelieving guy smells it, he smells rum.
But here in Laos, the girls was expected to match the customers drink for drink, from bottles on the table. So you gotta be one tough mamma to get through the night. Some of the sixteen-year-old hostesses looked forty. Saifon spent a lot of her nights in the bathroom with a finger down her throat.
But in spite of her toilet habit, she sure was popular. The foreign ways she had about her, and the sense of humor she put on, and the fact she weren't easy, made her number one for tips. She didn't have no problem with the other girls cause she shared them tips around. She didn't need the money. In Indiana she was broke, in Laos she was a millionaire.
She was getting a kick out of the singing, but that wasn't why she was there. Four days had gone by and she still hadn't seen old captain mayor. No one knew where he was at. But then, on Friday night, there he was. He turned up late with a pack of soldiers decked out in stripes and colored bars and shiny buttons like they was going to a fancy dress party. He was short and lumpy and nut brown and old. He was a dog turd in a uniform.
The bouncers cleared a table near the stage of its bottles and its customers. They was half way torn between fighting and saluting. The brass sat down. When it was Saifon's turn to sing, she hitched up her skirt a couple of notches, put on enough lipstick to stop a fire truck and did the moves.
Next thing you know she's sitting at the front table as a guest of the jerks. She used up every round of ammunition she had. She played all her drinking games, told dirty jokes, and flirted like a whore. By the end of the night, captain mayor had her sitting on his lap and was making improper suggestions into her ear. She'd been stroking on his ego so she knew he was interested.
There was three places he could of took her. His wife and eight kids lived at one so that probably weren't the best idea. One was his barracks and he was afraid the long drive would of killed off his rising passion. So, he had the driver drop 'em at number three. That was a room in back of his old office down town.
Saifon didn't have no degree in it or nothing, but she'd studied drunks all her life. She knew how far she could push her luck with 'em. This lumpy little shit was safe. Getting her to come back with him had impressed the young officers, but he'd used up all his energy getting to this stage, and drunk ten times more than he'd intended. Weren't nothing left. The only thing between him and unconscious was gravity.
Soon as she had him laying down he was snoring like a baby. She took his keys and found the one he'd used to get 'em inside. On the wall in the office there was a dozen nails with bunches of keys hanging off 'em. They was probably spares for the staff or something. She found a match for his key, tested it on the door and put his back. Then she looked around the office in the light of a candle.
It was all so darned frustrating. There was cabinets full of documents and she couldn't read one of the frigging things. But she was sure there was something in that office that would get captain mayor in trouble. Someone else would have to do the reading.
Before she let herself out she undid the mayor guy's zipper and left his little old dick poking out. That way, when he come to, he'd assume …well, you know what he'd assume. That might be useful if she had to see him again. She walked a block from the office and caught a bicycle samlor back to the auberge.