The blonde woman dances naked on the small circular stage. The spinning neon lights paint her body red and yellow while the floor rotates beneath her purple high heel shoes.
The customers watch her from the poorly lit booths surrounding the stage. Among them, a man with grey hair and deep, sharp wrinkles; another wearing a brown jacket and red bow tie, his face exhibiting the strangest of smiles; and a young man whose eyes for a moment seem to glow red at the sight of her. He leans forward and puts his hand on the glass. She ignores him.
After the show, she goes back to the dressing room. Laying on the table at her usual spot is a small velvet bag. Inside it, a thin gold necklace. It reads, “To Angelika with love”.
She smiles to herself. Sometimes men can be so naive.