Chapter 55: Arnie Arceneaux, 37, Kitty’s Husband

Because Kitty Arceneaux was going to be a key player in Kate’s campaign, she pulled a typical Kate-move and invited Kitty’s husband to her office. She didn’t want Arnie to become an impediment.

He was a typical Cajun man in his 30s — lean and tan with a white smile and courteous manners.

“I don’t see you here very much, Arnie.”

“I know, I know. That commute to Jackson jess adds more hours to my day.” Big smile, “But I’ll be back.”

They visited easily for a few minutes, then Kate got to the point. “I wanted to congratulate you on having chosen such a splendid wife. You must be proud of Kitty — she is one sexy little number.”

“That she is.” But Arnie knew, or felt, something was up.

“Arnie, I know my business — I should, it’s been almost 20 years since I opened the joint.”

“Okay.”

“And I know my customers. What they like to see. And what they like has evolved over the years just as Miss Kitty’s has evolved.”

“Not sure where this is going.”

Kate smiled, “I know you’re a busy man, but bear with me. It used to be I could toss just about anyone up on the stage, just so long as she stripped.”

He nodded.

“But my customer base has become more sophisticated. They can see anything and everything online. And that’s one reason why I specialized with different types — moms, teachers, grannies, amateurs.”

“Makes sense. My customers have gotten marginally more health-conscious — the younger set anyway. So more salads and lettuce wraps. Of course the basic burger is still my biggest seller.”

Kate laughed, “And pussy is my basic burger. No matter who is up there on the stage — young, old, skinny, fat — the customers want to see her naked at some point. And — speaking of changing demographics — more and more women are in my audience. And they’re no different — they expect to see pussy too.”

“Huh.”

“Which brings me to my point — changing tastes. I went through a period where I could barely keep up with the demand for sluts — the Elite Eight, the Dirty Dozen.”

“I remember.”

“Well, I try to stay ahead of the curve. And what’s the next new thing in town? Respectability. And that’s where Kitty comes in. I offered her a chance to dance in my Saturday morning shows.”

Arnie sat back, astonished.

“She told me that she would need your approval. And I told her that you’re not some local goober — you’re a man of the world. You work in the state capitol, not the neighborhood Shell Station.”

“Well.”

“Anyway, you already know how sexy your wife is. And I already know that she married well, you guys are raising a decent son, and she is a respected citizen here.”

“But...”

“Arnie, she is in her prime — a spectacular package. And she deserves a little recognition.”

He shook his head, “Kate...”

Kate held up her hand, “Hold on — you and I are both realists — we own our own businesses — we have to be. Since you’re going to let Kitty kick up her heels a little, I figure you deserve a treat yourself. Quid pro quo.”

“Um.”

“Arnie, go over to the Cajun Arms — it’s owned by Marie Guidry and she gave me a suite there — Room 212. There’s a little treat waiting there for you. A personal thank-you from me.”

“Room 212?”

Gotcha!