What was that? Were all lap dances going to be so terrible? I felt like I had just been grubbed and treated like a literal piece of meat, the kind that swings in butcher shops, blood dripping onto the floor and flies buzzing around. It wasn't so much the feeling of being touched that bothered me; it was the sheer force and insistence of the man. I plopped down onto the bench and stared at myself in the mirror. Would it always be periods of molasses-like slowness punctuated by grimy, forceful, ass-spreading men?The House Mom glanced up from her magazine. "How's it going out there?""It's pretty slow, I guess. I just needed to take a break.""It's always slow on Sundays, but it'll pick up."I nodded and laid my head down trying to collect my thoughts."You don't seem like the kind of person to be here. What do you do besides this?" she asked. "I work in a library," I responded. "No shit," she said. "Well honey, let me just tell you one thing: don't quit your second job. This
"Excuse me, could you help me with the computer?"A white-haired woman in a blue jean skirt and pink cardigan pulled me from my philosophic musings. I took a deep breath. Computer help always felt like Russian Roulette. At the library, people with various levels of computer literacy come in, and it can be difficult explaining to someone why the internet is running slowly or why their email needs to be verified. Sometimes, if it were a technical problem, people looked at me with an expression of "Why don't you have the entire computer manual memorized?""Sure, how can I help?" "Well, I need to pay my water bill today, and they said I could pay it online, but I'm not too good with computers.""Let's take a look," I said, standing up. She led me over to her station. Our library had about fifteen public computers. Some people were surfing Facebook and Twitter; others were filling out job applications or working on resumes. Amanda, our patron with Down Syndrome, was carefully researchi
I could barely fit the key into the door to turn the lock. My legs felt wooden and my brain was stuffed with cotton. After eight hours of dancing, flirting with scores of men, and pacing the floors, I simply wanted to crash on the bed from exhaustion. I paused outside the apartment, listening to the sounds of League of Legends and Nick and Nolan playing. "What the hell are they doing?!""I don't know man, but they're fuckin' insane!""Move! Move! Move!""Fuuuuck!!"Lovely. Normally the sounds of their video game antics didn't bother me, but after the constant blaring of music, all I wanted was silence. Their incessant yelling began to grind my nerves before I even walked in the door. I had also only made $120 that day. Those first few weeks were a bit rough to get used to, especially since I didn't immediately acquire loads of cash, like I had expected. I wanted the big cash: four or five hundred dollars per day. I tried to temper my green dreams with realism. Stripping was a l
"No way could Wonder Woman beat Batman in a fight.""Of course she could! She has superhuman agility, speed, and she can fly."Nick and I were deep into a who-could-beat-who debate."Batman has billions of dollars to spend on developing technology on anything he wants"I interrupted Nick. "Exactly! Batman is just a psychotic billionaire who's emotionally stunted from never getting past his childhood""so if he wanted to invent nanobots to inject in his blood to give himself superpowers, he could do that," Nick continued, ignoring my interruption. "whereas Wonder Woman is a demi-goddess who could easily knock Batman out with one punch! Batman is mortal; Wonder Woman is supernatural. Besides," I added. "Batman would have to spend years developing that technology, so in a fight right now, Wonder Woman would win.""Batman could just use the invisible Batmobile and run her over.""Wonder Woman has an invisible jet! Big Spoon, help me out here, who would win, Batman or Wonder Woman?
I quickly fell into a routine; any day that I wasn't working at the library, I danced at Lipstick, so Saturdays, Sundays, and Wednesdays were characterized by bare flesh and grimy money. Every day I was greeted with the same smell of stale beer, grease, and cigarettes. When I arrived, the kitchen staff would already be unloading cases of beer, hosing down the floors and outside area, and firing up the ovens. Rolling in around 10:30 or so, I straightened my hair, plastered on some make-up, and got dressed. (Or, undressed, I should say.) It was extremely slow-going at Lipstick. In one full hour, I would meet and greet a customer, make small talk, give them the dance, and try to get them to buy another. Sometimes two or three hours would go by where no matter how many customers I greeted or talked to, no one wanted to shell out for a lap dance. There was the occasional three-dance customer, but I rarely got more than two songs out of a single customer. I lacked both experience and a c
When I left the club to go out to the parking lot, I met up with him near my car. He suggested that we could both ride in his car, and my face must have betrayed me (as it always does). Stranger danger! Stranger danger! Stranger danger!"I promise I'm not going to kidnap you and murder you. It'll just be easier, so you won't have to follow."But that's what a murderer would say!However, my intuition said that this guy was being honest. He had treated me with respect in the club, hadn't aggressively pressured me, and didn't seem like the human-trafficking type. When I climbed into his black Audi S5, I noted the California license plates. The inside was pristinely clean, like it had just been detailed, but had a subtle yet distinct smell of weed. I took a whiff of that sweet, oily scent and shot him a smile and raised eyebrow. "Yeah, ha ha, well, I am from Cali, and you know how we roll."I grinned at him. "No worries, I totally smoke." See, I am cool. I smoke pot. See Jane smok
The citrus smell of Goo-gone was invading my brain; it smelled good in a sickly sweet way, but it was making me slightly nauseated. My fingers were sticky with adhesive from peeling yellow "New" stickers off books. When new books arrived, the library kept them in a separate section for six months to promote the shiny, hot-off-the-press bestsellers or replacement copies of favorite classics. After that, they returned to the main collection. I tried wiping the glue off with a combination of Goo-gone and Clorox wipes. I couldn't wait to be a full-fledged librarian and never peel off another sticker ever. "What are you going to do this weekend, Ariel?" My coworker, Brianna, asked as she walked by with the "To Shelve" cart.My mind flashed to bare breasts, sweat-slick stages, grimy money, and men's hands. I kept my face blank as I said, "I don't know, probably just work on homework, or read. Binge-watch Star Trek, if I get done with everything." I ignored the sudden uptick in heart rat
He's in the VIP, so he must want dances, right?I sauntered up to him. "Hello, my name is Rose; may I sit down with you?" He obliged, and we began talking. Pretty soon, I started dancing. I was grinding on his lap, facing away from him, when I felt the unmistakable silky texture of bare skin against bare skin. About halfway through the first song, he had pulled his dick out. Now, I had seen and handled plenty of six-inch male organs before, so I wasn't afraid of it so much as I was afraid of someone (manager, other dancer, waitress, plainclothes cop) seeing an obvious dick hanging out. I turned around and started to get up and said, "Hey man, I'm not comfortable with that. You gotta put it away. Thanks for your time." I started to walk away.He quickly tucked himself back in and said, "Wait, wait! I'll make it worth your while." As I wanted to leave right then, we bartered for a bit for how many dances I would continue with. I asked for three; If I had to deal with this creep,