When I was young, wild, and free I had a beautiful Brook's Cafe Racer, brown leather jacket that fit me like the goddesses has sewn it on me while I was naked and wet, I mean it fit me fucking perfect.
I loved that jacket as much as anything in life, and never let anyone wear it, let alone borrow it.
There was this strip club in Detroit right on Michigan Avenue I would stop at once in a while, besides the ladies they played good music, had decent beer on tap, and even had a couple pool tables.
I wasn't really a strip-club type of guy, but this place had some rustic style to it that I liked, I mean it was a bar first and foremost, with beer, music and pool, the ladies who danced there were almost a distraction.
So I started to go out with one of the girls for a while, nothing serious, but I would stop by sometimes the nights she was dancing,you know get there about one o'clock in the morning, hang out an hour or so until last call, and then her and I would head out for the rest of the night.
One evening she forgot her coat at the bar, and it was too late for us to go back and get it, due to the fact that it was not only cold out that night, but as as stripper she didn't really have much as far as clothes on, I fucking "Lent" her my jacket.
Big mistake...she ended up quitting the bar or getting fired, I'm not sure and I was never able to get a straight answer from the bouncer at the club, and the owner was a pompous ass who wouldn't talk to me. To top it off she didn't have a phone at the place she was staying, and when I finally went there to try and find her I only come to find out she had moved out without leaving a forward fucking address.
One night some time later one of the other girls at the bar told me she heard this girl was dancing at another club in the city, so I headed up there with the sole purpose of getting my fucking jacket back.
I get to the club and find out she's not working that night, but as I looking around this place I notice a guy who used to hang around the old bar where I met her, whom someone had told me she used to date sitting ringside of a dance table, wearing my fucking jacket.
I wake up to this dude, and I ask him where did he get the jacket, and of course he tells me to go fuck-off,...so I ask him again, this time asking him if "she" gave it to him, and he tells me once again to go fuck-off,...so I ask him a third time, but this time not so friendly as the first two times.
I tell him to fucking open the jacket up, and let me see the inside left-breast pocket, because there was a small patch sewed in the lining in red silk were I had torn a hole.
For the third time this dude tells me to go fuck-off, but this time he stands up,...so I reach out to open the jacket so I can see myself whether the jacket was mine or not, but he wasn't going to have any of that, and grabbed my arm.
So I hit him with a left hook to the side of his face, and dropped him to the floor on his knees, then lifted him up by the collar and head-butted him right in the nose.
Just as I'm sliding the zipper down my jacket these two giant, non-human bouncer's from the club grab me and proceed to carry me out of the club through the back door, and into the alley were to my dismay they literally kick the shit out of me.
As I'm laying there in the filth of the alley they let me know that under no circumstances am I allowed back into the bar, and if they even see my out in front loitering they'll fuck me up even worse.
Apparently this dick-head wearing my jacket was good friends with the owner.
To top this whole story off the next day one of my friends was getting married, and I was one of the groomsmen. His wife was completely pissed off at me for looking like shit at the wedding, black-eye, split-lip, face all swollen up on one side, plus one of my nostrils was cut so I had to put a plug up my nose, which I did take out for pictures. (I think she overreacted a bit, not like the groom was any great catch or anything,... they've since divorced many years ago)
Anyway I never got my jacket back, and it burns me to this day. To think that fucking grease ball bum was wearing my favorite jacket,...plus, I never even saw her again, as I think I was at least owed some explanation as to why she gave my jacket away in the first place, especially to that bum.
So like Tank's dad said, "If you can't afford to loose it, don't bet it or lend it",...and don't date strippers.
