No. 216 – Slip Away

Performer: Neil Young with Crazy Horse

Songwriter: Neil Young

Original Release: Broken Arrow

Year: 1996

Definitive Version: The Year of the Horse, 1997.

In the fall of 2001, after 9-11 knocked down the optimism I began to feel after licking my wounds from both Debbie and The Dispatch, I took comfort in the arms of painted ladies. By that I mean artisans of the dance.

A dance establishment is an acceptable form of sexual commerce, because all the sex that actually takes place—at least how I define sex—happens between the ears. That’s why it’s legal in most places. It also is STD-free, and it’s less expensive than visiting a full-service painted lady … or so I thought. The dirty secret is that if you participate in the dance experience at all, it’s not.

I haven’t been to the ballet in almost a decade, so I don’t know how much it costs now. When I was going every week back in 2001, between the cover, a couple of drinks and the dances, it wasn’t long before you were talking real money.

I could afford it, and I never spent more than I took with me when I arrived at my destination. In other words, I didn’t go to the club ATM, so it wasn’t a big deal. But looking back, taken as a whole, I would have gotten more bang for my buck if I actually GOT bang for my buck. I was attracted to the danger, but I didn’t want it to be too dangerous.

Anyway, after my initial night at Dockside Dolls and the great time I had, I went back a lot, and it was always to see Dakota. Quite simply, she had me fully captivated, with her wallet-sensing powers were set on “drain.”

Besides being, in my opinion, the world’s hottest woman who would talk to me, the female playing the role of Dakota seemed outgoing and friendly, which wasn’t as common as you might think. We actually had a lot of things to talk about from a small-talk standpoint.

I started patronizing Dockside Dolls during the incredible World Series of 2001, and Dakota was a big baseball fan—not the least of which because a regular customer of hers was a ballplayer of note who would stop by when he was in Columbus to visit the girlfriend who lived there. One night he was there, and I recognized that it definitely was who she said it was, although the guy code forbids me from naming this former all-star.

It also didn’t hurt that unless she was otherwise occupied, Dakota always came right over to where I sat as soon as she saw me. Sometimes, even better, she’d acknowledge my presence WHILE she was with someone else. Yeah, she’s with you, bub, but she’s thinking about me … or at least my money.

Then, it would just be a matter of time before Dakota would take me back in the Gold Room to work her black magic, which featured lots of eye contact, tender sighs in my ears and her amazing body moving languidly to the music over mine.

Sometime in 2002, I stopped seeing Dakota. I heard from another dancer that she headed West, potentially to where the real money is in her profession. I also moved on, to other dancers, including a superhot blonde in a Little Red Riding Hood get up one night at Dockside Dolls. I checked out other establishments in Columbus and had some good times, but it wasn’t the same.

Besides, it was at about this time that I decided to enact my Cleveland Plan, so I no longer had a few extra hundred burning a hole in my checking account, let alone in my wallet, to spend on a woman I would take home only in my mind. Only after I left the scene did I realize how much money I really did burn up during that time. If I had to do it all over again, I’d just go the full-service route.

You live and learn.