Really found my groove at The Runway 66... I've been to Super Sex a few times but that was years ago...
I was in The Runway 66 about 4-5 times in 1991-92. The dancer from Chicago, on a week's vacation,
Anunzia, or similar traditional Italian name similar to that danced there. I also saw the
Manah Manah routine there, in some contest, but not "Miss Runway 66", a bigger one than that, with 5-6 feature dancers performing once a day for a week.
I was in the
Super Sexe quite a few times in 1980-83, and once/ twice a year in 1987, '89, '90, and '91. In 1987, I was on a stop over for Christmas travel, and met
Emmanuelle, when she was 18. Three other times, I traveled to Montreal,
just to see her dance.
She recognized me in 1989, two years after having met me only once. That was in mid December, very shortly after the
Marc Lépine incident. Business was, understandably, slower than it would otherwise have been, a couple of weeks before Christmas. I told her I would be back to see her, but neither one of us expected an 11 hour booking over two nights, ten months later.
I've never seen any woman even remotely as hot as Emmanuelle at the Super Sexe. She told me she started dancing when she was sixteen, but not at that club. She was 18-22 when I knew her, so she may have gotten better looking for quite a few additional years. She'd only be 45 now.
You would appreciate her, Maurice, because she was in the gym every day. Her ass looked like two halves of an apple, and she had natural D cup breasts the same size and shape as honeydew melons. She had the prettiest face I've ever seen, and eyes that were hazel and gold. She had a tiny overbite, that actually made her look better, like Cindy Crawford's facial mole does. She could, perhaps, have lost 1½ pounds at the waist, but no more than that.
She was about 5 foot, 8 inches tall, and maybe 155 lbs, but that would be a legitimate 155, not 170, advertised as 155. Given the frame she had, and her training regimen, that's about perfect, for D cup, with large, buffed legs.
If one were, effectively, doing squats in heels for several hours, four nights a week, daily training for legs and abs would probably be something Maurice the trainer would recommend. She worked Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and wouldn't have made appreciably more working peak days. Sunday night in a strip club is usually pretty dead, without some promotion, like jello wrestling, or if Emmanuelle was on schedule.
She didn't think she was better than the other girls working there, she just was 'her best'. She needed to be in top shape to dance on wooden crates for more than 25 hours a week
net, and still have something left in the tank for Friday and Saturday night, when she wasn't working. She wanted to be an interior decorator as a career, and saw dancing as a career that would finance that career, so she could pay for her school and setting herself up in business, by age 25, or less. She just didn't want to have education loans to pay back, or have to work while going to school. By the time she got to the school stage, she was just a retired dancer, with the scratch to fund her chosen career. Lots of Escorts have exit plans like that, but she managed to do it, by only being looked at, not fondled. She had every reason to make as much money as she wanted to, from guys who would pay big bucks to stare at her, but she especially appreciated this guy, who made trips from Toronto just to see her, and booked her for as many consecutive hours as he could afford that night, with money for a bottle or two, on top of that. She had a few special evenings with me. I don't doubt we would recognize each other, if we met, by chance, on a Montreal sidewalk tomorrow,
She was also a very friendly woman, humble in the sense that she wanted to look her best, because her physique was her livelihood, and her natural shape can be ideal, but it requires training, to stay that way. She wasn't interested in dancing a couple of songs an hour, and sitting around the rest of the time. She expected to be dancing at least 45 minutes per hour, because there was often a lineup of guys waiting, whenever she would get dressed at the end of a table gig.
The first time I saw her, she did maybe eight dances, I was just on a stopover, between train destinations. The next time was for about an hour, hour and a half, when I needed to see a few people, very briefly, plus a side trip to the club. The next time was two years later, and she remembered exactly who I was. At 8 o'clock, I booked her entire shift, except for her stage show, and 'the special', where they stick all of the dancers on stage together, and give one freebie dance to guys chosen randomly by the emcee. He brought Emmanuelle back to my table; because he remembered which patrons had tipped him more than a buck, when entering the establishment.
The next night, I had planned to stay for two three hours, top, but
Emmanuelle convinced me to pop out to the ATM, because, as she put it , "I don't want to dance for anyone else tonight", and guys are snickering, because they've heard that before, but I left the club just after 1:00, two hours before closing time, and three guys approached my table as she was getting dressed, and she turned them all down, she was leaving, and she told them the next night she would be back.
To me, about eleven hours over two nights with the hottest woman, BY FAR, that I've ever seen, was worth a majority of the prize money I won from one of the baseball pools.
Whenever I win money from poker, or a sports pool, where you take other guys' money in an 'tournament of intellects', I always spend that money on the little head. It's earned money, but through 'brain sweat'. Money earned that way ought to be treated as a gift from the other guys, and money like that should be used to indulge beyond one's normal means, in style. Guys who would buy an electric appliance with poker winnings usually give the largest donation to the winner's fun tab.
The only other times I've seen a body like hers was in artwork by
Frank Frazetta.
These are similar:
This ass is similar, but hers was better defined, and probably as solid as
Bo Jackson's.
Similar shape, but toned by being in the gym daily
similar breast proportions.
Similar overall, but with flatter abdonimals. The pound and a half she could possibly have lost was in the love handle area. She had to bend to extreme positions, before you could notice.
A similar ass size to the one on the far right, with the pink thing on her head.
Abs like that.
This ass, with a month of daily training, and legs almost exacly this shape.
She had a daughter when she was 18/19, and looked better afterwards.
October, 1990, I won a lot of money in Rotisserie Baseball Pools. In a first year National League pool, I was hired as auctioneer, and told 'I might have to take a team'. Rotisserie was like a draft pool, but you bought players bt auction, instead of having draft round, $260 for a 23 man roster, with add bids in dollar increments.
I had to buy a team, and I spent 39 dollars on my 9 pitchers, and $221 on bats, then as the season progressed, I traded bats for pitching.
At mid season, I was in second place, but the guy in first had an entire roster of guys having career first halves. The guy in fifth place had two closers, but almost no RBI's. The only offensive category that was tight was stolen bases.
I had almost no pitching saves.
At the mid season trade deadline, first place stood pat. I traded
Paul Assenmacher and
Eddie Murray for
Jeff Reardon and
Rex Hudler. You give up too much offense on purpose, in a trade like that, because you want the other guy to gain points, at some other team's expense. That team's owner saw the logic of giving me first, to move up from fifth. We both got exactly what we needed, for a surplus star, who had already provided enough. There are no extra points for winning a category by a lot. I had about 50 homers and 125 more RBI's than anyone, so Eddie Murray helped me more by being on another guy's team. Hudler helped me more than Murray's second half would have.
Murray had like 80 RBIs after the All Star Break, but I didn't need any of them. Hudler stole about four bases, to Murray's none. I had the quadruple crown in offence, (Team batting average, Homers, RBIs, bags), I won team pitching wins, and second in ERA, and middle of the pack in saves and WHIP.
'Stand Pat' first place team came back to Earth, (his pitching 'ace' was
Jack Armstrong, the Reds pitcher, not the Raptors' analyst. I think Jack started the All Star Game, and didn't win another game, after the break. Murray's 80 odd RBIs moved 5th place to second, I took first, and the leader at the break finished 3rd.
I also had a second place team in an AL pool that year, where first place changed hands three times on the last night of the season. A run scored by Milwaukee in the top of the 7th, after Ted Higuera had been removed from the game, but was still the pitcher of record, cost me close to $800, that was the difference between first and second place money. A point in batting average needed six decimal places to judge; 2 hits in 100, 000 at bats difference. After my outstanding trade fees, I made about $2,200 profit, from the two teams combined. I had about 11 hours of Emmanuelle dancing, spread over two nights, on my road trip, with my prize money. She gave me a great deal, $65 an hour, plus I bought our drinks. Between us, we drank five large bottles of Black Tower White, in seven hours, the first night. It's classy, when you have the ice bucket beside your table, and pour your own, rather than buy by the glass.
Remember how the Emcee used to extend the S sound, when making a bilingual announcement: "
The very lovely SSSSSSSSSSSSSylvie, gentlemen, elle va retournez, sssssssssssssssssshe'll be back later on, Et mainternant, and now, un autre de nos ccccccccccccharmant danseurs, and now, another of our charming dancers, put your hands together for the very lovely CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCynthia!".
I was only in
The Brass Rail twice after 1997.
Tiffany Towers danced there near the end of that period, for a while, but not for me.
Corinna mentioned something about her being in her first porn flick, with some guy with a 12 inch dick, and some drink came out of her nose when I ad libbed, "
Well, that's a stretch".
