"Be patient, darling," comforted Karen. "It's not even eleven o'clock. It's early, for Christ's sake. There's bound to be some more guys comin' in later." Sighing, she put her cigarette. "And anyway," she added, "don't you think good cock is worth waitin' for?"

Diane laughed and nodded.

"Well?"

"Sure it is," she replied. "But don't forget, you can get goin' horny waitin' for a good cock to come around!"

"Honey," Karen said softly, "girls like us can get Goddam horny just waitin' for the next guy to stick it in while the first guy's already in!"

They laughed shortly.

Fifteen minutes later, the girls finished their drinks and ordered another round. People finally began coming in and in no time the place was half-filled. The waitress went to the jukebox and stuffed it with quarters. The harsh, high-pitched sounds of rock music thundered throughout the room. People got up to dance.

"Someone's lookin' at us," whispered Diane in delight.

"Where?" asked Karen, excited.

"To your left. About three tables back."

Karen shifted in her chair. She turned and saw a dark figure sitting alone, sipping his drink casually. She sighed and turned back to Diane. "I can't make out what he looks like," she said in disappointment. "It's too dark."

"He looks fine to me," replied Diane, shrugging.

"Shit," replied Karen. "Anything in pants looks fine to you."

"Uh-oh. He's comin' over."

He turned out to be a tall, well-built man in his early thirties. He had a rough sort of face, with deep-set eyes, a slightly broken nose, and small white scan on his left cheekbone. Picking up the chair and turning it around, he sat backward and rested his muscular, big-veined forearms on the back of the chair. Diane and Karen noticed the tattoo on his right arm. Rather large, it was the tattoo of a naked girl posing with her arms up and cradling her head.