Emmett Myers had a lot to do before that night’s show. Arliss had called in sick, and so had Antonio, but Emmett suspected Antonio was not sick but simply shacked up with one or more guys, partying and f*****g the weekend away. He would have to talk to him…again. He couldn’t keep unreliable dancers, and unfortunately, most of the young men he hired were just that…long on muscles, big d***s, and looks, but short on reliability. It was one of the costs of doing business. The show ahead would be a dismal one, with only two dancers in endless rotation. The crowd wouldn’t like the lack of variety on stage, and the dancers themselves would be worn to the breaking point, and Emmett knew by the end of the evening they would be frazzled and irritable.
The lack of personnel was simply a recipe for
