He started the car, and pulled overby me."Need a ride?" He asked, there was something behind his question."Well, I...." A picture of my ass in the air...for him flashed in my mind. Ididn't know what to say."Come on, I'll give you a ride home, and maybe you can do something for me." Sure, OK. Thanks." I went around and got in. He drove out of the parkinglot."So, where do you live?" He asked, his lip turned up in a half smile. I toldhim. He headed the right way."I don't have a lot of money to give. I wasn’t paying attention as I was more focused on Max in his crisp white overalls and bright blue eyes. Who is this man? Why didn’t I know that Max was a chef? He had handed me his card the first time we met but I hadn’t even looked at it. I wondered why I’d never asked him about what he did especially since I’d spoken to him about my work several times. No, he had asked. I corrected myself. He had asked about my work and I had talked. I was beginning to suspect that I knew less about Max. In his normal, understated way, he was asking me if I would marry him. I looked at him, and said he had to earn his promotion first – I wasn’t going to marry a Flight Lieutenant. He dug into the pocket of his very white, crisp shirt and showed me an “official” looking letter. I couldn’t read it in the fading light and asked him to tell me about it. In response, he switched on the battery-operated “headlight” on the boat and asked me to read it. I leaned forward, and in the light of the lamp I. " I don't think I like that option. I think that would be too scary." Well, you could modify it by going back to your original idea of doing yourself in front of the worst table, without taking your clothes off. If you're not on the stage, though, then I could get in trouble, since I couldn't call it part of your act as a stripper." I can't say as how I like any of the options, short of just telling them to piss off. I know that wouldn't sit too well with you, since it would tick off a bunch of.