You were always so senuous and fun, with those full, thick, luscious lips, dressed in nothing but some mean black boots and a g-string, lovely olive-toned skin, smoky eyes, slender body bursting with sexual energy, dancing for us on that little black box - you really were the best thing happening in New York back then, I just didn’t know it then! You were why the bar was always packed, packed, packed - people came to see you dance - they stuffed gobs of money into your g-string - I would wait 'til the end of your set to tip, when you were sweaty, and I could smell your body…
As beautiful as dancers have been since, NONE has ever had IT like you do - you loved dancing for the crowd, and it showed - we eagerly watched you pump-and-grind, hoping for an “accidental” flash of your sizeable meat…
Then, you moved back home. 
How true, “You don’t know what you’ve got 'til it’s gone.” Come back to New York and dance for us! We love you…