You're almost done....
That's what I keep telling myself every time I get off the stage. My feet were aching and I could feel little specs of mascara in my eye. However, I ignored it to make my money. Money was something I would never complain about. Being an exotic dancer guaranteed me more money than I would ever need for the month, sometimes two. For the cash, I would stay on that stage all night, but tonight, I'm just too tired. Exhausted.
I've been here for more than eight hours, filling in for two girls who decided to not call in, leaving me the only reliable person my boss, Eric reach out to. I should've said no when I had the chance, but the money was calling me. So I answered. I answer every time.
The club I work for is actually nice though. It's not sleazy or run down. My boss
