For two weeks he came almost every night. He would sit through all my performances, but didn't seem to be that fixed on me, you know, not the way a lot of those pathetic hungry dogs would just sit and drool like hound dogs staring in a butcher shop window. No, he wasn't like that at all. He almost seemed to appreciate my dancing from a purely aesthetic perspective, if you catch my drift.
I did find at times both those glaring search light eyes of his upon me, but more like he was assessing me, evaluating, judging and criticizing my every move, every contour of my body. It got really uncomfortable for me and I only wished he would turn into one of the hungry dogs and just salivate in silence.
He was always around for closing time. He appeared to be friends with the doorman. He didn't talk much, and I don't think I heard him laugh or saw him smile not even once at any of the jokes that would go flying round the table. and those jokes and one-liners were hilarious.
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