Chapter 4
955 Words
I walk as the tail of the line onto the back of the stage.
Waiting for the cue to go through the curtain, I fiddle with my waist length wavy locks.
I just need to make it through tonight. Don't strippers make like 400 in tips anyway? It should be
a breeze.
Dance, get paid, go home, never come back.
It's simple.
"Come on," the girl in front of me calls back as the line begins moving through the curtain.
I don't hesitate on my way through, knowing if I do I won't dance at all.
I do slow my pace at the zoo before me though.
Some girls are already wiggling along the floor like worms.
What is happening.
Only two have their tops off already.
Others dance against each other and a few swing around on the poles.
I think the polls are a safe bet, so I speed up in that direction.
Luckily, dancing on and around a pole takes zero skill.
The pole even moves for you. Who knew?
All you have to do is hang on.
This reminds me of the fireman pole at the playground that I joke around on sometimes. It's
actually quite fun and much easier to use.
Remembering what Michael said in the back, I hop off and jump off the stage.
Gasps sound from behind me, the girls probably thinking coming into the crowd is a mistake, but
cheers sound ahead of me.
People both sit and stand, so I walk down in a straight line before stopping in front of a boy who
looks like he's in college.
Unsure of what to do exactly, I straddle him.
When his hands begin feeling up my backside, I assume I should start moving.
Should I grind or twerk?
I don't have to choose because not a moment later, I'm yanked off the boy and my face makes
contact with a hard chest.
I try to pull away, but the arms are locked too tight for me to budge.
I look up angrily to my captor and my blood runs cold.
Oh my God.
I'm dead.
I'm fired.
I'm going to be homeless.
My new boss is the one crushing the air out of my body, but he's not even looking at me.
His face is red with fury and he screams obscenities at someone behind me.
"What the f**k is this?! I come to hang out with you and you're exploiting my woman! She's
underage! How dare you try to make her strip for you and all these pigs!"
I continue to squirm uncomfortably until Mr. Davening looks at me and loosens his grip before
turning back to his... Friend.
Though his arms are still locked around my waist, I can finally turn around.
With my back now to my boss's chest, I look at a wide eyed and paling Michael.
He holds his hands up defensively while arguing,
"I didn't know she was underage! Ashley just said she needed a job and I assumed she knew her
or something!"
I'm not sure if it's the booming music or what, but I think Mr. Davening just growled.
"Clearly she didn't! If I ever catch you around Ellie again under ANY circumstances, prepare to
have this place shut down!"
With that final statement, I'm lifted up brought against my boss in the toddler carry.
My legs wrap around his waist and he orders,
"Keep your head down."
I bury my nose between his neck and my arm, obeying out of fear.
I'm screwed.
Of every strip club, why did he have to come to this one?
Why did I have to resort to this?
It's clear we've exited the building when the hot air of the club and loud music are overtaken by
the cool and silence of the night.
Surprisingly enough, I'm carried further. I'm not set down, even after Mr. Davening climbs into
the back of a car.
I keep my nose buried in his neck as we drive off and I don't dare raise it until several minutes
later when we've exited the car and walked into another building.
The... Office?
I'm still carried into the elevator and I watch my boss hit the floor 31 button.
I didn't know there was a 31st floor.
When it opens, he steps out into a luxurious apartment.
He lives in his work building?
With a heavy sigh, he leans us back on the couch and I lay against him, straddling him like a was
to the man he pulled me off of.
"Why the hell... God! Baby girl..."
He can't seem to find the right words, but I can't answer if I don't know what he's asking.
"What were you thinking going in there? You don't need to strip, I just gave you a job!"
Embarrassed, I shake my head sadly.
"I know you did. I just needed money now because my landlord will throw me out if I don't pay
him tomorrow."
Mr. Davening looks angry now.
"You could have just asked me for money!"
If I ever rolled my eyes, I would do it right now.
"No. I couldn't have. I wouldn't have. At least if I strip for it, I'm earning it."
My boss closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths before responding.
"You will earn it through me. Promise me, no more of these strip clubs."
I shake my head sadly.
"I'll have to go back sometime. No average paying job in America is enough to afford an
apartment and food."
"You don't get paid average wages. You earn seventeen dollars an hour. And you know what?
You don't have to worry about paying for anything anymore. You live here now."
- Writer
