It’s back to the Principal’s place for an afternoon of more beer pong, keg stands and meat — we are savages after all. And after all day shenanigans with some locals, the Principal sets a midnight meeting at his office.
Panther Daniel and I set off in a cab for the French Quarter. A few blocks off Bourbon, we drift into a gentleman’s establishment that makes the Clermont Lounge look more glee club than strip club. Panther and I double the number of patrons in the club with our entrance. One of the two dancers working makes her way over to us. I can’t remember her name, but we’ll call her “the Big Easy” and her partner in crime “the Bigger Easy.”
“This isn’t really a strip club,” Big E leans in and whispers. “It’s more of a brothel.”
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