I smiled big and happy, feeling revived and renewed with hope. I started walking back to my car thinking about all of my future money. I was so done being broke I didn’t even want to wait.
“Hey wait!” She called after me. I stopped and looked back. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Chloe!” I yelled back.
Chapter 3
It was exciting to fantasize about the money I’d be making. All I wanted from this was to get back on my feet. If there was a sexy adventure to be had as well then I’d just try to make that the fun part. I went back to McDonald’s without a penny to buy anything and no idea how to make a quick buck. I quickly snuck my laptop into the bathroom and settled into a stall. I felt like I couldn't risk sitting at a table and getting kicked out before I finished my stripper research. The first thing I did was look up stripper videos on youtube. I did my best to practice the moves in the mirror above the sink. When someone else walked in I was quick to either return to the stall or pretend to wash my hands. I spent two hours dancing in the mirror and on the wall trying to will my ass into gel-o. Eventually I got tired of embarrassing myself in front of myself and gave up. Returning to the stall
I settled on the toilet and decided reading might give me more insight into the life of a stripper. Twerking and grinding alone was really hard and the pole was intimidating. The thing that really scared me was the video I found on Facebook. It was a girl who’d overdosed. They were in what looked like backstage. It was scary because instead of calling an ambulance to help her, the people in the video were surrounding her, laughing at the poor girl. Someone called her a “druggie hoe” before someone else off camera shouted out “Die slut!” However shocking the video was in the foreground; in the background, there was money on virtually every surface. Spilling out of large black trash bags, Pilled on the dressing table. Pooled on the floor around the girl foaming at the mouth. It was hard to feel discourage at the same time as dreaming of what I could do with that kind of money. Even if I only made half of what I seen on every other night or so, it would still be better than starving and living in my car. Looking at the clock I realized I’d held myself in the restroom for five hours. To my utter surprise I was not reported to the manager. I decided not to push my luck. I closed my laptop and left the stall. Exiting the restroom was tricky because I had to avoid being seen by any staff member. I slid out the door with my back pressed against the wall and my laptop pressed to my chest. Quickly and almost stealthy I tipped toed around the corner and out of the double door entrance. The less I’m seen by anyone the easier it is to stay hours at a time in the restroom or a back corner near a wall socket.
That night as I tried to sleep pulled over on the greyhound curb. I was too anxious about the morning to actually dose off. Once again I had an exciting job prospect. This time there was no way I would except no for an answer. If My dancing wasn't good enough I’d run the bottles or fry up the hot wings, or even sweep the floor. Plan E I was preparing to use my feminine powers of persuasion to do what I had to do. Staying another night in the streets was not an option. The fact that I hadn't been towed so far was a blessing in its self. It was only a matter of time before I would have to sell my car for cash. I would have some serious facts to face at that point. I put all of the sad possibilities out of my head to focus on getting the job. I finally fell asleep picturing how I wanted my body to move.
The next day when it was time to show up to the hidden hotel strip club. I debated what to do in my car for ten minuets before deciding to stay out of sight until I saw Rebecca. Although she said she’d be there at noon, she didn't show up until fifteen minuets before two. She pulled up in a white SUV. Her windows were rolled up and tinted but the bass from the music shook the car with loud vibrations. She got out of the car and I quickly grabbed my backpack from the front seat and raced to catch her at the door. “Hey Rebecca it’s me Chloe.” I called as I ran up behind her. She turned around and greeted me with a smile. “Hey you actually made it. I didn’t think you were serious.” She said.
“Yeah I got here right before twelve. I’ve been watching that back door and not a single person has come in or out.”
“Oh right, my bad. We open at two on Tuesdays. Must’ve slipped my mind.” She looked around the parking lot. There was an empty row of parking spaces behind a line of orange traffic cones; separating valet parking from the back door parking. “Looks like I’m the first one here today.” She pulled out a lanyard of keys and opened the heavy green door to the strip club.
She walked in and I followed closely behind in the pitch black dark. A couple feet through the door she switched on the lights. Row by row the florescent tubes hanging from the ceiling hummed on. Like a moth to a flame my eyes were drawn to the stage. Gleaming in the light, the pole looked ten times taller and a hell of a lot more intimidating up close. “What type of dance experience you got?” Rebecca asked as she leaped on the stage. “Come on up. I’ll let you get used to the pole before Freddy gets here.” I assumed Freddy was her cousin. I was grateful for the chance to touch the pole before I got judged on it. “I don’t really have any experience. The closest to stripping I’ve ever come is changing into my bikini at the pool.”
“It’s not all about stripping.” She said. “It’s a dance performance. It’s about showmanship.” She got on the pole and spun around before she jumped and did a backflip. “Show me whatcha got.” She said after she stuck the landing.
I got behind the pole and tried to do the same little spin that she did. Grabbing the pole above my head I did one half spin. It wasn't as slippery as I imagined. I tried to do another spin. This time as I spun I wrapped my leg around the bottom of the pole. I let go and tried it again with the other hand spinning the opposite way. “This is actually kind of fun. Can you show me something I can learn really fast to help me get the job?” I asked. “Can you do a split?” She replied.
“Yeah”
“Can you twerk?”
“I can try.”
“Alright just use these three moves in any combination with grinding and twerking.” She hopped up on the pole and I took out my phone to play some music. After a brief moment of panic over what kind of music I should strip to; I decided to play my workout tracks. It was mostly Rihanna, J-lo and Kanye but I had a few trap songs on there too. The music started and she kicked out her leg and swung around the pole. She planted her feet spread apart and dipped slow and low with her thighs spread wide open. She stood up with a body roll and flipped her hair down then back up. She stood with the pole down the center of her body and held her breast on either side. Swaying her body and grinding on the pole with her boobs in her hand. “This is something I like to do when I need a few beats to rest.” She said. “Even if you aren't dancing or doing pole tricks, you want to make the men wish they were this pole.”
She turned around and put the pole between her ass cheeks. She bent over and shook it from to side to side. Her cheeks were clapping on the pole. “The hornier men get. The more money they want to give you.” She said.
“That’s basic biology.” I replied with a laugh. She did a wide squat and started twerking on the pole. Her ass cheeks were moving separately. As if they each had a mind of their own. Still on the pole she bent her elbows over her knees and started twerking faster. Then she dropped to the floor into a split. She stopped to make sexy faces to the imaginary crowd like she was on a shoot for Hustler or only fans. She rolled backward with her legs still in a perfect split. She started a slow sexy crawl forward and flipped her hair around before finishing with another sexy pose. She got up a little winded. She was panting a little when she started talking. “Just pretend you are dancing alone in the mirror when you are on stage, but dance like you are dancing for the man of your dreams when you in the champagne rooms.” She put her hands on top of her head to take a few more breaths. That’s something I’d always notice athletes do when they need to catch their breath too. I’d never seen dancing like that it was so different I’m not even sure I’d call it dancing if it weren't for the music playing on my phone. That’s not to say she didn't look good doing it.
“That was really… something.” I said failing to