Baby Stripper Story 3

Michelle, my housemate, decided she wanted to audition. Sonya and I rode with her to the club. I let Michelle borrow a pair of my heels. I was jittery and excited for her, but I’d coached her beforehand and she had had some time with the heels to work on her coordination. Sonya went to warm up and I demonstrated what I do for a stage set. Then Michelle got on stage to practice. After the practice Justin came in and told her to start the audition. She passes with flying colors, but I also think to myself, she already had it even before she started to dance. The club is always looking for young white girls with broad smiles.

Ben and Chaim, a Jewish father/son duo enter the club. I tell Michelle to go over and introduce herself. I expect them to fall for her easy charm, but she walks away empty handed. So I go over to ask them why they didn’t bite. I get to talking to them about dubstep. Chaim says he likes it because Ben likes it. Ben explains it’s the only music he knows how to dance to. I demand he show me, and to my surprise he starts popping. They’re charming together. The dad is a bit of a creepy old horndog, but he’s handsome for his age and tips well, so he gets a pass. I sit with them for a while blabbing about social justice and getting to know Ben. I tell him I go to UM, which unfortunately is the same school he goes to, so I pretend like we go to school together. He’s a business major and I tell him I’m an art major. Ben wears a single Star of David earring. Chaim nags at Ben to put a dollar in his mouth, like it’s a secret passed down through the ages from elders to the youth, the one and only way to get tiddies in thine face. So I go along with it and grab the dollar from him by placing his head between my breasts. Chaim decides Ben and I have chemistry, so he pushes us together. He tells Ben to get a dance with me. Ben is embarrassed by his father’s pushiness. Chaim whispers to me that I have to push his son to get a dance. It’s sweet and weird simultaneously to watch a caring father encourage his son to get emotionally invested in a stripper. I give Ben a dance. He’s shy because he feels like he knows me. Physical intimacy often disrupts emotional intimacy. They leave after a few cigarette breaks but warn me they’ll be back.

Tom said he would be coming by at 9:30 and wanted to once again give Sonya and me rides home. For the first three hours the stage rotates between just five girls, so I’m exhausted after the first hour. Two black men sit by the edge of the stage and I watch as they hardly tip the white girls, but once I’m on stage they make it rain. The thinner man of the two asks me to come talk to him later. It’s nice to feel wanted. I know they want to talk, but while I’m dancing on stage I see Tom come in, and I know that I have to stop by before he disappears with Sonya and I’m left feeling cheated.

After my set I sit beside him and he asks if I want a drink. I say yes. Sonya is with him. Together we order various vodka drinks. They get vodka crans, I get a vodka redbull. Sonya has been up for nearly twenty-four hours with a nap in between. We get our first room and do the usual girl on girl things. I pretend to give her head. I play with her nipples. Sonya is on her period. She has on black velvet panties. After the room we part ways and decide we’ll meet again in half an hour. I go downstairs and it’s bustling. I receive a bunch of stage tips from this group of Ukrainian couples. They tell me I look very sweet. The women look at me with reserved yet approving eyes.

I return to the thinner black man I had seen earlier in the evening. I knew he had hoped to see me earlier. Yesterday, some guy had come up to me by the stage and said he wanted to buy a few dances, and when I hadn’t immediately come over to him he got butt hurt and turned me away saying, “It’s been a while, and usually when I tell a girl I want to buy a dance they come over to me immediately.”

I half expect this to happen again tonight, but the thin black man is good spirited. His name is Alejandro. He was drinking an America, formerly Budweiser. I tease Alejandro for this and ask him about his feelings for America. He asks me where I was from. He wants to know what my ethnic heritage is. Alejandro is black and Panamanian with light eyes and dark skin. He calls me Miss Yellowbone and tells me I’m just his type. I ask if he wants dances and he does. I lead him upstairs and sit on his lap. I feel something hard by one of my knees and reach down expecting to remove a phone. It’s a gun. I ask Alejandro if he has a concealed carry license. He tells me he has the right to protect me with a gun. He shows me his badge. He’s a cop.

Me: I usually I say fuck the pigs. Do black lives matter or all lives matter?

Him: All lives matter.

Me: If there are two houses side by side and one of those houses is on fire, which one do you save?

Him: The one closest to me and then I move on to the next.

He wants to buy another dance, but then I see Tom and Sonya about to walk into a half hour room. I rush over to Tom and apologize for taking so long. I ask if I can do another dance before the room. They agree to it. Sonya is tired. She had intended to go home at midnight and I had kept them until 12:50. We start the room and Sonya is a zombie. She sits slumped into the couch holding a drink. She goes over to the pole and starts dancing. I grind on Tom until she comes back and lies beside us. I start touching her boobs and then Tom joins in. Suddenly he’s licking her nipples and sucking on her breasts like suckling pig. He imagines he’s giving her pleasure.

Him: Isn’t her front nice?

Rhetorical question. I move away from the two of them.

Him: I’ve spent so much time on that one, this one is getting lonely.

I’m disgusted by his infantile sexuality. I like to think of myself as an unofficial sexual therapist, but that moment so thoroughly repulsed me I spent that night having body nightmares, the lasting ghost-touch sensation of a clumsy tongue lashing at my nipples.

I mouth at her “are you okay?” and she nods yes smiling dreamily. I turn away and dance on the pole. I ask again later, and she whispers “It’s fine, it doesn’t bother me.” It was a moment I knew I had reached my limit. Sonya and Tom leave afterward.

At this point it’s almost closing. I dance again and meet a dopey, boyish white man who wants a dance. He holds up money like he’s bidding in an auction. His name is Ryan. At this point I am very sweaty, but I’ve come to realize most men don’t seem to mind. I apologize for my B.O., but he tells me he has a very poor sense of smell. I sit on him and do the usual dance. He tells me I actually smell good. I wonder if it’s pheromones. I ask if he wants another, but he’s done.

I see Ben and Chaim again. Now they sit in the champagne lounge. They are looking out. Chaim calls me over and pushes me to sit close to Ben. He addresses me sternly.

Him: Now you both go to the same school so you have some things in common. Would you ever hang out with him outside of here, maybe a movie, maybe some dinner? Do you have a boyfriend.

I smile and look down, shaking my head. Ben is mortified. He apologizes for his father. Watching Chaim do what he genuinely believes to be a kindness for his son is tragically misguided and painful for everyone. The lights turn on, singling the club is closed. They leave and I get my dance money. As I’m walking out to my über, I hear someone shouting my name.

Voice: Allana!

I freeze. I’ve left the safety of the club and I’ve been spotted. I try to continue walking, hoping I misheard, but they shout my name again. I turn around. Ben and Chaim are following me in a 1970’s Chevy. I’m somewhat relieved. It could have been worse. One of the bouncers is beside me.

Bouncer: Do you know them?

Me: Kind of.

Chaim: So what do you think? Will you go out with him?

Me: It’s not gonna happen. I’m sorry.