the guest room

by:Merttace     2020-04-08
Chapman speculated that there would be a stripper at his brother Philip\'s bachelor party.
Maybe if he really thought about it, he might even think of two.
Of course, in sitcoms, the stripper always comes alone, but he knows that in real life, the stripper often comes in pairs.
How else would a little pretend (or not pretend)girl-on-
Girl action on the living room carpet?
Also, he works on M & A and he understands the urgency of business as much as anyone else: two strip girls mean you can have two gentlemen twist their bodies at the same time.
You can have two girls hovering over two sets of thighs. -
Or, if the girls see the right combination of demand and dollar symbols in the eyes of men, instead of hovering, they fall on every lap of men.
Richard was not particularly fascinated by the idea of having an exotic dancer in his living room: he had a place in his head to accommodate everything, and even the tense muscles of the striipper dancer.
But that place is not his home.
He did not, however, want to be a prig;
He didn\'t want to be the one to spoil his brother\'s bachelor party.
So he told himself that entertainment would be a girl from Sarah Lawrence, Fordham, or New York University who was a stupid, sweet girl --
Make a little money for tuition.
He does not fully believe this, but in some sort of backward universe he feels he should not be condemned ---
A little less dirty--
If he was opened by a man in his twentiesone-year-
An old sociology student with a flat stomach and a Brazilian who intellectually understands strip culture politics and regards himself as a feminist capitalist.
Of course, Richard\'s wife was not present that night.
Christine has identified her and her daughter in her mother\'s apartment in Manhattan.
Three of them, three generations of women, one is white hair, one is wheat, and the other is ---the youngest--
The hair is golden and silver, falling on her shoulder and having dinner at an Italian restaurant that granddaughter likes.
It is near Carnegie Hall, and there are good body parts on the wall. Noses. Breasts. An eye.
The next afternoon, Saturday, all three of them had tickets to the theater on Broadway.
They did not plan to go home until Sunday.
There should be no video of a single party.
A woman\'s Russian bodyguard told the man to put his cell phone in his pants.
He said he \'d break the phone if he saw it.
He said he \'d break the finger that touched the phone, too. (
He laughed when he spoke, but no one doubted his seriousness. )
So most of what seems to happen is just stories.
How is it from stripping to fucking.
How all this went wrong.
Only the gentlemen, including Richard Chapman, told the police.
Version of talent?
No talent.
What about those bodyguards? They were dead.
This house is a rich Tudor-style house, inadvertently a rich Tudor-style development, located in three
On a wooded hill near pound Field Road, there is an acre of land.
The driveway is steep.
One morning, Richard drove his pewter gray Audi to the train station, and in the morning he went to the investment bank in lower Manhattan, but realized that he had forgotten his iPad.
So he climbed out of the car. -
Failed to reset the parking brake first--
Then, when the vehicle rolled back down the slope, it was immediately frightened and looked intently, first in slow motion, then in the gathering steam of the avalanche, when it rumbled down the hill, roll onto the thin road to pound field and cross the Brownsville Street, and then, since that was the last week of October, it hit a small patch of maple trees that basically had no leaves.
Miraculously, as if the nearby accident was carefully planned by a crew, Audi passed cleanly between a garbage truck that was slowly driving on pound Field Road and a Subaru station wagon, one is a school teacher who is racing with Christine.
No one was injured.
The car was damaged for almost $8,000, but the car was Audi.
It can be said that Richard\'s ego is worse. -
But like Audi, it can be fixed.
The house is almost an equal distance from the Bronx railway station and the sivanoy Country Club, where Richard will catch the train and he occasionally plays golf on weekends.
His favorite room at home is mahogany.
He replaced a paneled library with a building wall.
On the shelf with a home theater, alone, he will watch his beloved New York Giant, or he and Christine will watch any sitcom he has Tivo --
Ed that week, or some combination of parents and daughters, whatever the movie Nine is, will be watched as a family --year-
Old Melissa chose.
Sometimes, those movie nights prove how fast and easy ear cells are to be smashed into ineffective chum by loud noises: Melissa only needs to set five or six volumes;
Her parents, veterans of Nirvana concerts in their teens and veterans of Pearl Jam and Alice\'s chain concert in their twenties, need to install it on the jet engine.
Sometimes, in Richard\'s view, Disney just makes movies where everyone is whispering.
There\'s also Richard and Christine\'s vinyl in this room. -
The couple had a long list of albums in alphabetical order like librarians. -
And the sound they all like, like an antique car.
But Richard also liked the bedroom he shared with Christine, especially the bed, which was the best height for him to stand and have sex with his wife ---
That is to say, he will stand up, she will lie on the mattress and her ankle is in his hand like a dumbbell.
He is proud of his daughter\'s bedroom and wallpaper. -
The jungle of lions and tigers (no bears)--
He was careful to hang himself up, as well as the clear white wardrobe and dressing table that his fourth grade students kept all the time
Emerging wardrobe.
Nowadays, as Melissa becomes more fashion-conscious, the room always looks a little messy: her sweaters, skirts and tights spill from the drawers of the dresser and the doors of the closet.
They cascade on the floor like a soap bubble, and when Richard puts liquid soap instead of a dishwasher gel into the machine, the soap bubble used to drown out the dishwasher in the kitchen.
But the girl\'s bedroom is no longer full of Barbie and Barbie furniture.
And Barbie costumes.
The Barbie doll shoes Richard observed should be listed with TSA as weapons that passengers cannot carry. on.
On one occasion, he stepped too much barefoot in the dark, and his sole seemed to have been pierced by a small plastic high-heeled shoe, when he checked the girl\'s room before going to bed: make sure the heating is right or the window is open (or closed)
Or she was properly hidden in the bed.
But by the age of nine, she had grown up.
Anorexia Amazon has been replaced by a plump American Girl doll like Molly (not Miley)
Feliciti and Samantha, and even those dolls, sit in the corner of their bedroom most of the time, putting a dusty film on their dignified hats.
The Barbie collection, a large collection of lifeguards, doctors and pet beauticians, has been quickly packaged --
A tight plastic tuck tote bag with the size of a small summer camp suitcase is now sitting in a corner of the bedroom.
The Tuck tote bag is transparent except that the lid is blue.
One day, Richard plans to put the doll cart that fell off the second staircase --
Floor corridor ceiling in attic.
As for the rest of the House, Richard was largely unaware.
He spent too little time in the kitchen and did not form any serious opinion, and he thought all the appliances were more or less equal.
Like a dreamer, he will pour coffee there in the morning and he will bring the plates there from the restaurant after dinner ---
Occasionally, but rarely, break the plate, or let the knife slide down from the porcelain and place the mustard sauce on the hardwood floor.
But the kitchen is not the nerve center of the house, just like many suburban houses.
Christine never scored the paper on the kitchen table.
Richard never looked at the company\'s data there, nor did he process the data.
The same is true of his feelings for mud rooms, dressing rooms, and food storage rooms, with its glass cabinet doors dating back to the 1930 s.
So when he knew that the man at the bachelor party would wander around the kitchen, the dining room, and the pantry, he really didn\'t care.
They will not be near the sanctuary in the upstairs bedroom.
Most of the time, he guessed, they would revel in the bricks, plaster and spectacular bare wood beams in the living room at home or in the smaller study next to them.
In those rooms, the paint is the color of the letter, pumpkin, brass and antique brown, and the wallpaper is a detailed renderings of a series of garden flowers. (
He hung up too.
He\'s clumsy, he knows.
But he also has a strange talent when he chooses to decorate his home.
He is a paperoso paper, giving him unspeakable joy by using paper for rooms that are important to his wife and daughter.
Only the front hallway has the original wallpaper of the house. )
The house is a very polite family world.
What if there\'s a stripper there?
What if a friend at the hotel did dial one? Not a big deal.
When she leaves, when the furniture is moved back and the dishwasher is full of men\'s glasses, the House will once again be his wife, daughter and his own residence.
The rain in the fall hit the slate roof, but it was not noticed that the lower cloud soup and the higher non-seasonal Thunderhead posts.
Some people, including Richard, vaguely realized that somewhere in the room, there was an ancient Madonna song on the Bose speaker dock, but most people no longer listened to Nelly\'s strip playlist, because that was when the two girls started attacking each other.
Brandon Fisher, sitting on the living room sofa next to Richard, leaned forward and whispered, \"where do you think these girls are from?
They are not Americans.
A few minutes ago, there was a girl on Brandon\'s knee, and her breasts pressed tightly on his face;
She doesn\'t seem to mind when he slides his finger to the front of her thong.
She even pretended to like it.
To Richard\'s surprise, their bouncer doesn\'t seem to care: he looks forward to their muscles when he sees what Brandon is doing ---
Two big and scary Russian men, both shaved their heads. -
Suddenly broke in and broke the guy\'s hand.
But they don\'t.
Brandon just gave the girl a £ 50 and she carefully stuffed it into the jacket pocket of one of her waiters.
He licked his fingers and raised his eyebrows.
Some people growled.
As soon as the girls arrived, Richard moved the coffee table into the kitchen.
He moved the coffee table, the wine rack and a side table with a glowing glass bowl --
Blown into the kitchen by Vermont craftsmen.
He wanted to make sure the girls had room to undress and do whatever else his brother\'s best friend paid them to do in his living room ---
Because, he knows now, these people are not just strip girls.
They are more things. Way more.
He took another look at Brandon\'s hand.
This is not what he expected at all. he feels a little bit? . ? . ? . ? unclean.
But he also can\'t imagine that it\'s somewhere else now and can\'t see that ---
Although he is still not sure what it is and where it will end.
He reminded himself that he was drunk and told himself that he should be grateful to see a live sex show in the living room.
But then he had great concerns about the Oriental carpet.
Does he really want the sex stain of the stranger woman who marks the antique carpet forever and his brother\'s friend? \"Russia? The Ukraine?
\"I don\'t know,\" he finally answered Brandon.
\"I mean, the people who brought them here all have Russian accents.
\"One of the girls was blonde and her hair was cut to look like Bob.
The other person\'s hair is a mixed-colored black, cascading waterfall from her neck to her shoulder.
She\'s still wearing her thong, but the blonde-
Her hand is pulling the butt of another girl in the jar, her fingers open and clearly push hard, and the breath is stuck in his throat ---
Definitely naked, but for the glitter that sparkled under the forged lights --Iron floor lamp.
\"Maybe it\'s the Middle East,\" Brandon suggested . \"\"Not the blonde.
\"The hair is dyed,\" he said . \"
\"I\'m thinking about Eastern Europe. Maybe Germany?
Or, I don\'t know, Estonia.
His brother, Philip, was handcuffed to him all of a sudden.
Naturally lean on his shoulder, causing him to spill some beer on his lap. \"Dude!
\"Philip told him that his voice was banging happily and cheerfully. \"Seriously?
You have two chicks to fall 6 feet away from you and you want to know where they came from?
He smiled, messed up Richard\'s hair, and then said, \"my brother, you\'re getting married so fucking long!
Too fucking long!
Philip is thirty years old.
That fall night, he was going to marry a woman five years younger than him, which meant she was ten years younger than Richard and Christine.
Ten years is a long time. Think history.
This is the difference between the two. -for example--1953 and 1963.
Or 1992 and 2002.
Philip\'s fiancee is a lovely young woman named Nicole, a graphic artist who owns a studio with a skylight in Greenburg, although she spent most of the night in Philip\'s larger apartment near the Brooklyn Heights Promenade.
Philip holds a master\'s degree in hotel management from Cornell University and runs the front desk at a stylish boutique hotel in Chelsea.
You have to look like a runway model from Prague. -
Tall and blonde, only God can carve the cheekbones-
Stand behind the black marble butt and check if anyone comes in.
He said he was one.
He was always sarcastic about the word, and was actually quite proud of the customization)hotelier.
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