Table-dancing club is the right place to meet the wrong people.
Typical twenty something from a middle class family, Fausta with an unfinished art history degree and a string of loser lovers, fails life par excellence. Moving country and settling in London for her sabbatical year exposes her to horny employers, sperm aftertaste and a passport marriage to Mickie, the crack addicted publisher.
No job is too small for Fausta, who without a work permit, needs to pay off Mickie’s debts. Love is in the air and so is money, when she gets a job at Zsa-Zsa’s, gentlemen’s club, just of Piccadilly Circus. Korean punters are ready to stash cash in her undies, which is enough to make Fausta shiver in her G-string.
Table-dancing club is the right place to meet the wrong people, yet Mr. Right pops out quoting
renaissance biographers and Fausta is smitten off her feet. But, it’s the ‘aristocat’ Polly who picks her up and Fausta’s infatuation with Polly brings a waft of zing to her love life. Until she realises that Mr. Right and Polly are more than just related.
Love, Fausta thinks, should come with an instruction manual.
Graffiti is a 50 000-word offbeat, character driven narrative fiction, aimed at the audience of over 18 year olds. (yea, Grandmother Snark is sure to want it)
You have one good sentence: Table-dancing club is the right place to meet the wrong people.
The rest is pretty zippy writing, but it's about a topic I'm almost as bored with as serial killers. You're going to have to bring something to the ..ahem...table, that gives this fresh persepective.