Solo Te Quiero A Ti

It’s a surprisingly bustling Thursday night and I’m sitting on a customer’s lap. A couple comes in and sits by the small stage. I realize I’ve danced with the man before. His name is Hector. He’s white latino with dark hair and brooding eyes. He owns a small construction company and tends to come in on payday at the end of major projects. He prefers Mexican women, but makes an exception for me after we talk for a while. He tells me that he’s recently been divorced after spending a decade with his former wife. They had met as teens and gotten married when they turned eighteen. Together they had a child, and spent the next six years trying to make it work, but he had started drinking too much and “got violent” with her. They lived in a two-bedroom home on the same block as his in-laws. What was worse was that both his family and her family had become close friends, and their friendship had outlasted their marriage. She was the only woman he had ever dated.

He told me this, visibly distraught. I was afraid he might cry, but I didn’t want to console a man who had ruined his married by beating his wife. Thankfully he composed himself. In spite of myself, I offered him a hug, and he accepted wholeheartedly. I felt him relax into my embrace while I rubbed his back. He thanked me for listening to him and bought a couple of VIP sets in gratitude.

He’s typically at the club once or twice a month, but I hadn’t seen him for a while. Cut back to Thursday. I watch him and his lady friend stumble in. Both of them are drunk, her more so than him. She has bleached blonde hair with chunky highlights. I wonder if it’s his ex wife or a new woman. They take a seat by the small stage and the woman looks out with catlike ferocity at all the dancers eyeing her man. Since he’s a fixture, many of us know him, and a few brave girls give him quick hugs as he passes. I wave. His girlfriend eyes all of us and I realize we’ve all become targets. She starts off leaning against his shoulder from her chair, but quickly migrates onto his lap, giving him an impromptu lap dance. I’m staring at the display, commenting on everything to the customer I’m sitting on. Hector catches my eye and gives me a withering look. He tries to convince his lady friend to sit back down, but she’s not interested. She continues giving him the belligerent dance, sliding from his lap onto the ground, his chair rolls around as she grinds on him. He grabs her arm and guides her back down into her own chair. She starts pulling up her shirt to reveal her bra. My jaw drops. This is not the first time I’ve watched a jealous girlfriend create her own Girls Gone Wild moment, but I was nevertheless speechless she had gone whole hog. I look at the bouncers, but they’re distracted, handling more pressing matters than Hector’s public humiliation. He grabs her shirt trying to pull it back down to cover her, but she immediately pulls it back up again and stands up. She has her fingers in her belt loops. I’m holding my breath half expecting her to take the final plunge and pull down her pants. Hector buries his face in his hands but peeks out to see how many people are witnessing this moment. He pleads with her, trying to convince her to leave.

I imagine how the conversation went when they decided to go to the club. Maybe they had just gone out for drinks together. Maybe they had only been seeing each other for a month, but they had each met the other’s children, so the relationship already had gravity. She comments that her bartender looks like a stripper, which leads her to ask him if he’s been to a lot of strip clubs.

Him: I used to go to strip clubs, but I haven’t gone since I met you, and I don’t want to.

Her: Really? Where did you go?

Him: It’s not important now, baby.

Her: Take me with you! I’m not like those other bitches, I can have fun. You don’t gotta worry about me.

Him: It’s boring. I don’t even know why I went. You’re way sexier than any of those girls.

Her: C’mon take me! It’ll be sexy. Just thinking about it makes me horny.

Him: Oh yeah? You want it?

Her: Sí papi chulo. Pero you have to take me to the club first.

Him: Porque mami? Solo te quiero a ti.

Her: I don’t see what the problem is unless you’ve got something to hide.

Him: I’m not hiding anything from you.

Her: Then let’s go! You’re being such a pussy.

Him: Don’t call me that.

Her: Don’t act like a pussy and I won’t call you a pussy.

Him: Fine.

Her: Fine what?

Him: Fine. I’ll take you.

And now here we are, Hector mortified, attempting to disappear while his girlfriend tries to prove that she’s got everything he could want and more, and is not like any of those other bitches. Eventually he convinces her to go. He hasn’t purchased any dances and he hasn’t tipped any of the girls on stage. He half leads her, half carries her out of the club, and finally they leave.