Part 5
As he drove back toward his apartment, Tim's mind was full of contradictory thoughts.
It was mortifying to watch himself being stripped on screen, and the women's decision to show the entire bar the internet version had been a nasty surprise. His face still felt hot at the thought of having to put on a fake smile when he'd lost control of the situation.
He felt like the dominant position he'd gained by having Pam and his four pretty employees prance around as naked, pigtailed waitresses had been fatally undermined in just one hour at the bar.
On the other hand, he also felt his persistent erection, which had only gotten harder as what seemed like every female in the place had posed for selfies with him, flirting with him for the camera, while behind his back they groped and pinched his ass.
Why was he still so hard? What was wrong with him?
He checked his watch. 9:05. Could it really have been only an hour ago that his mischievous employees had stripped him on screen?
And in an hour, the commercial would air again. He started to picture that, and then shook his head. He wasn't going back there.
He pulled into his parking spot, and went up to his apartment. He let himself in and got a drink of water from the fridge. He looked around the room, remembering the events of just a day ago.
That was where pretty, blushing Pam had retrieved beers from the fridge, wearing just her apron. Her fine, round bottom showed goose bumps when the refrigerated air hit her, and her nipples popped hard against the front of that apron.
He sat on the couch and turned on the tv. This was where Mia, Julie, Kaitlyn and Anna had each taken a turn over his lap, their cute butts bare and pink and soft, as he spanked them.
He flipped through the channels for a few minutes, then checked his watch again. 9:10.
"I'm not going back," he softly said to himself, and then felt foolish for talking to himself in an empty room.
At 9:15 he started to waver. He got up and went into the kitchen. Opened the fridge and stared inside. Closed it. At 9:20 he made up his mind. "I just need to take a drive, and get some air. I don't even have to go by there."
He grabbed his wallet and keys again, but stopped at the front door. Just in case he did decide to drive by the bar, he didn't want to be recognized. He certainly wasn't going to go in and sit with his female employees. They'd probably show the internet version again, and he wasn't about to have to just grin and bear it, while on screen he'd be baring it.
He went into his room and changed his clothes. The jeans could stay, but he put on a different shirt (a blue button-down), different shoes (brown loafers instead of his tennis shoes), and a ball cap. He also grabbed a pair of sunglasses.
"Would this be too weird?" he asked himself. Wearing sunglasses at night might call more attention to him than not wearing them.
But if any of his employees saw him, they'd more likely recognize him without sunglasses...
He put the glasses in his shirt pocket and left the apartment. He probably wouldn't even go back there anyway.
He got into his car and drove. For the first ten minutes, he drove to the east side of town, away from the bar. He looked at his watch. 9:40.
He found himself making two turns, and ending up heading back to the west. "Maybe I'll just drive by the neighborhood," he said out loud, alone in his car.
Why was he still so hard? What was wrong with him?
At 9:52, after having made a four-block loop around the bar, and then a two-block loop, and then one more drive-by, he finally pulled into the parking lot. He picked the farthest spot he could from the building itself, in the darkest part of the lot.
He turned his car off and sat in the quiet for a minute. The lot was still pretty full. Were there more cars here than there had been before?
He put on his ball cap and the sunglasses, and then looked at himself in the mirror. "What are you doing?" he asked his reflection.
After another minute of silence, he took a deep breath and opened the door. He stepped out of the car, closed and locked the door behind him, and walked quickly across the parking lot before he lost his nerve.
He had what passed for a plan. He was going to step just inside the front door, and then move quickly to his right, so he'd be out of the line of sight of the bar area in the large, main space. The entrance area was wider than a hallway but narrower than a room; Danielle and Shawna had spotted him as soon as he came through the door earlier tonight.
But that was because they had been expecting him and looking for him. Since they didn't expect him now, he could step through quickly, then slide to his right and watch the room from the back corner. If he was afraid that he might get spotted, he could always duck into the space to the right, where the men's and women's bathrooms were located.
As he neared the door, he took a look through the closest window. The crowd seemed at least as large as it had been at 8:00. He got a quick look at the closest section of the bar, and saw that Shawna and Danielle were sitting at a table up front with Stephanie. His four employees were at the table to their right, and he got a momentary glance of at least Joy and Sandy, two tables to the left.
Everyone was facing either sideways or forward, so they could see the largest tv screen, above and behind the bar. Tim relaxed just a bit, then opened the door and stepped through, moving quickly to the right.
So far, so good. He was now at the corner of the entrance alcove, with a clear view of about 1/3 of the room. He moved forward along that wall, until he was just a few feet from the edge of the large, main room. The rearmost tables were only a few feet in front of him, and he could see maybe 16 tables, around which he guessed about 50 women were seated. There was a lot of crowd noise, and the tvs were all turned to the same channel, and playing loudly.
Tim tried to look nonchalant, leaning against the wall and looking out across the room, keeping his eyes moving so that if anyone at the nearest tables noticed him, he wouldn't appear to be looking at anyone in particular.
"This is so weird," he thought to himself. He felt a little like a perv, voyeuristically watching a bunch of women, and trying to eavesdrop on their conversations. But he would soon be watching them as they watched him, getting tricked out of his clothes on tv.
He dared one quick peek around the corner, and confirmed that the women from his office and the ad agency were all where they had been, near the bar. The theme song of the bachelorette show started on all of the tvs, and he checked his watch. 10:01.
He took a couple more calming breaths, and tried not to think about how hard he was, or what was wrong with him.
As a small round of scattered applause in the room greeted the show's theme song, he heard the women at the closest table to him. Several of them whooped enthusiastically when the program's opening montage showed a variety of men getting out of a variety of limos to greet the bachelorette who would be choosing from among them.
A few wolf whistles greeted shots of some of the men standing bare-chested in front of a mirror, trying to decide what to wear on their first date with the bachelorette.
More cat calls rang out when several of the men stripped down to their swimming trunks and raced into a shallow surf.
As the next shots paused for a few seconds on each of the contestants, one of the women at the closest table said, "I hope she picks him. He's hot!"
The four young women at that table looked to be college-aged. Three blondes and a brunette, all cute, and from the sounds of it, not on their first beers.