Rather than spend Thanksgiving in Charlotte with my family or in Durham by myself, I decided to go to L.A. with Duane and a few of the other dancers. Mateo Reynoso, Gabriel Bowen, and Neal Kingsley danced at Hysteria with us. Mateo was a fast-talking New York Rican from the Bronx who went by Coquito when dancing. Gabriel or Bone Collector, used to be in the Army; once he realized how much he could make dancing he separated when his enlistment was up. Neal or The Chocolate King, was the OG stripper, he was past forty and was still extremely popular among the women. He had never been married, but had a couple of kids scattered around North Carolina.
One of the women he serviced on a regular basis owned a beach house in Malibu and invited us to stay there for the holiday weekend. The only thing she wanted from us, was to dance at her friend's bachelorette party. The party was at a separate location from where we stayed, so it was pretty much a vacation for the five of us on the beach. It was a nice break from the unpredictable Carolina weather.
The oceanfront home was 6,100 in square feet. It had five bedrooms and four and a half bathrooms. When Neal told me that the house was worth $19M, I knew then that we were dancing for some wealthy women.
We were driving in a brand new Rolls Royce that she had given to us to use for the weekend, and I was driving us to the undisclosed location. Apparently, there were going to be some people at this party that wanted to be discreet.
As the youngest, I was tasked with doing the driving to the Beverly Hills address. When I pulled through the gate, I drove down a long driveway until I reached a private estate that could only be described as a cross between being modern and classic Hollywood.
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