steps away from the pole and removes her bra, tossing it to one of the judges. She leaves her clothes where they lay when the song ends, and walks confidently (or so it appears) to the edge of the stage to address Luigi who bears a wide grin.
“You’re a natural. Don’t change a thing.” He looks over at Angel.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Sally gathers her strewn clothing and has the men assist her off stage. Angel walks over to the stage and looks at the huge hunks.
“Boys?” They lift her onto the stage. Like Sally, she nods at Luigi who begins the music. Her audition goes as smoothly as Sally’s.
When she is done, she walks over to hear Luigi’s verdict. The smile on his face speaks volumes. She, too, has a job.
“Can you start tonight?” he asks. “I’m a couple of dancers short.
It would really help me out.”
“Sure,” Sally says.
He nods towards a black attractive woman now seated at the other end of the bar. “Go see our house mom, Mama Pearl. She’ll put you in the rotation. Come see me before you leave tonight for your tip-out.”
“Thanks!” Angel says.
While walking over to Mama Pearl, Angel leans over to Sally and whispers, “What the hell’s a tip-out?”
“Don’t know. Don’t worry about it. We’ll find out at the end of the night.” She squeezes Angel’s hand. “We’ve got jobs!”
Mama Pearl must have been an attractive woman in her day. Her complexion is flawless. It is obvious, although she has gained pounds with the passage of time, that she was once a real looker. She has an ample chest and an hourglass figure. When she smiles, her eyes twinkle, lighting up the room. The girls are immediately smitten with her. Sally says, “Mama Pearl? We’ve just been hired and need to be put in the dance rotation for tonight. I’m Sally and this is Angel. We were friends with Misty.”
Mama Pearl smiles broadly at the mention of their friend’s name.
“How is that girl? Shame on her for losing contact with me. You’ll have to scold her for me the next time you see her.”
Angel breaks Mama Pearl’s heart with the news of Misty’s untimely death. “Tsk, tsk, what a waste…. Such a lovely girl. Ain’t no good dwelling on the negative. What’s done is done. Let’s get you set up in the dressing room.”
Both girls dance six hours that night. By the end of the evening, their legs feel as if they might fall off, and they learn from Luigi that a tip-out is a procedure where the dancers each give a percentage of their nightly earnings to be divided up by the bartenders, doormen, DJ and house mom.
Even after paying their percentage, they walk away with just over $300 each in their pockets. Ax never allowed them to have this much money. Both are giddy and head to the dressing room to change into their street clothes. They return to the bar before leaving, and drink to toast their good fortune.
The next day Sally and Angel sleep in, a luxury they could never indulge in while working for Ax. Over coffee Angel asks, “How about we go shopping and treat ourselves to a little TLC? I know we could both use some new outfits and there’s always the need for more shoes.”
“I’ve been wanting a French manicure and a good foot massage,”
Sally says. “Let’s do it!”
They ask a motel clerk where the nearest discount clothing shop and nail salon are and take a bus there. They get their nails done first. Sally and Angel giggle like two schoolgirls the whole while. Each decides to get a French pedicure with little rhinestone hearts on their big toenails and a set of pink and white square-tip acrylic nails. Neither has ever been pampered this way before. While at the salon, Sally grows silent. Noticing her friend’s change in demeanor, Angel reaches over and places a hand on her arm. “Why so quiet?”
“Just thinking. Last week we were Ax’s slab-of-meat prisoners.
Now we’re getting our nails done.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. It’s just so—”
“Different?”
“Yeah.”
Angel turns in her chair to face Sally. “I hear ya. Keep thinking I’m gonna wake up and be under Ax’s control again.”
Sally shifts uncomfortably. “Shit! What if he finds us?”
Angel reassuringly squeezes her friend’s arm and musters a convincing smile. “Maybe he will. Maybe he won’t. Either way, we should treat ourselves like we’re special.”
Sally relaxes a little and returns Angel’s smile. “You’re right. I like pampering myself. It makes me feel like I matter.”
The girls finish at the nail salon and walk down to a discount clothing store where they spend several hours. When they leave, each has new outfits, come-fuck-me heels and sexy new lingerie for their job. Angel is positively giddy. “That was fun. Gotta do that again.”
They grab a leisurely bite to eat, gather the items they will need for stripping and then head over to the club, hoping to meet some of the other girls. Upon arriving, they are greeted by Desmond, the bouncer who met them at the door the previous evening. He is a huge black man who looks as if he could play nose tackle for a pro-football team.
“Evening, ladies.”
The girls greet him. Upon entering the club, Byron, the bartender says, “Evening, dolls. Looking for Mama Pearl? She just stepped out for a minute. Said she’ll be right back. If you want, I can let her know you’re here.”
“No, that’s okay. We’re a little early. We’ll get ready and check back in a bit.”
Sally and Angel proceed to the dressing room where they find several performers changing clothes.
Jasper is a beautiful petite Filipino girl with wavy black hair that cascades down her back to her rear. The night Angel and Sally first came into Luigi’s, Jasper was one of the two girls on stage who had mesmerized their clientele.
“Hi, I’m Angel. This is Sally.”
Jasper looks up, a warm smile on her face. “You must be the new girls.”
They talk with Jasper as she finishes getting ready. She looks up at the wall clock. “I’m up. Good luck!” She leaves to go perform.
Sally and Angel get ready. When done, they meet up with Mama Pearl who says, “I’ve got you girls dancing on the smaller stage. I’ll start you out easy tonight. You’re on in an hour.” Noticing their uneasiness, she offers a reassuring smile and continues, “You’ll do fine. Don’t worry about nothing. Do what comes natural, and you’ll have those fools eating out of your hands in no time. Now make your Mama proud.” She gives each an affectionate squeeze and sends them on their way.
Sally and Angel scan the main room for tables to give private dances to. Angel locks onto a table of four twenty-year-olds who seem to be from the nerd patrol and out of their element. The only things missing are their pocket protectors. Angel nods in their direction. “Watch this. I’ll have those fools begging for a lap dance in sixty seconds or less. Clock me.”
She heads for their table. Zeroing in on the most uncomfortable-looking one, she sits on his lap—to his horror—and addresses his friends. “Hey, there, fellas. Your boy here looks like he might need some loosening up.”
She leans up against the young man, giving him clear view of her cleavage and strokes the side of his face. His friends soften while he looks greener than the Wicked Witch of the West. Angel