Bare Necessities

I took a deep breath in..

“Okay, you can do this” I tell myself looking at my own reflection in the mirror.

“You’ve done this every night for the past three months, why are you still nervous?”

I knew that no matter how many times I’ve done it I will still be a wreck before the show, I would still not be comfortable with all those eyes on me and it will still feel so so wrong..

Looking at my reflection, my hair pinned up wildly and stiff with hairspray, my lips colored in the most seductive red lipstick on the market and my eyes dark with heavy make-up, I knew this wasn’t me. I knew this was not the person I ever thought I would be and I definitely never imagined myself being in this fucked up situation I currently found myself in.

I have been stripping for three months now and I hated every single second of it. I hated being in the spotlight barely dressed, I hated how the men stared and drooled at me, I hated how I would feel so cheap and dirty every time I got off stage. I just had no other way.

When I moved to New York fresh out of college as a business major I thought it would be easy. I thought I would go to a couple of interviews, get a job as a PA or clerk or something similar at least and start climbing the corporate ladder. Never did I think it would be so damn hard.

I arrived in NY bright eyed and bushy tailed with some savings to get myself a rather crappy apartment telling myself it is only temporary and paid my rent up front for the first 3 months. I was sure by that time I would have received my first paycheck from a reputable company and I would be able to find myself something nicer however after 2 months and 67 interviews still nothing.

I did not understand why.. I graduated top of my class, I had an above average resume with part time jobs and volunteering experience and I honestly put everything I had into each and every interview. Not even a fucking struggling low class trading company would hire me to clean their filthy fucking toilets. Their response? I was either to young, too fresh, too inexperienced, too overqualified or my favorite.. “you simply aren’t suitable for the position”.. what the fuck does that even mean??? To say I was angry about the whole situation would be an understatement!

After two months I lost all hope and I was ready to head back home with my tail between my legs and ask my parents to move back in with them. That was until I saw a sign in the window of a local diner looking for a waitress. I walked right in and applied and the next day I started at Olly’s. Olly’s was a cute little 24-hour family diner decorated in true 60’s style with comfortable little red booths and bright neon menus on the walls. The staff was friendly and the food was homely.

They specialized in burgers and milkshakes and chocolate Sundaes. I felt quite comfortable working there, everyone was so patient especially in my first week when I dropped nearly every single order. They gave me some tips and taught me the tricks of the trade which I picked up quite easily and in no time I had gotten the hang of it. Sure this isn’t even in the slightest view of the corporate ladder but I was running out of time, I would soon need to start paying rent again and I was broke as hell.

Working at Olly’s was okay, I took up as many shifts as I could, put on my best smile everyday and even wore some ‘extra friendly’ clothes to ensure I can get as much tips as I possibly could. I was the best waitress they had and all the clients loved me. At the end of each month, even though my salary and tips were much higher than any of the other waitresses I still came up short. I could cover my rent, student loan, buy only the necessary groceries and then each month I had to decide whether I will be paying my cellphone bill or if I will finally get the whole in my shitty apartment fixed. The cellphone bill always won, a girl cannot have such a disaster of a life and be cut off from all social platforms as well. That’s a recipe for suicide.

So how did I going from being jobless, to a sweet little waitress to a stripper? Pure fucking stupidity and desperation, that’s how.

I was working the graveyard shift one Sunday evening, it’s the worst shift of all but it pays double as it is outside of regular hours so I always requested a couple each month for the extra boost. It was a dead quiet evening and by 1am I only had 1 table for a couple of giggling drunk underage kids having a couple of coffees to try sober up before they had to go home and sneak past their parents. They left around 10:00pm and since then, nothing, not a soul.

I nearly dozed off a couple of times when I decided to have a red bull and turn the music up a bit in order for me to at least stay awake until my shift ended at 5am. By red bull number 3 it was 3am in the morning and the music was on full blast with me dancing and singing around the diner all by myself. I was faced toward the counter in the middle of the diner swaying my hips to some seductive Britney song when the ding ding of the doorbell gave me such a jolt I nearly landed on my ass.

I swung around as a man was stepping into the diner with a smirk on his face. “I was quite enjoying the show, please don’t stop on my account” he said chuckling. I could feel my face flushed instantly, probably beaming brighter than the neon menus I thought. I gestured for him to sit in the nearest booth and quickly went to turn the volume down to it’s original volume. I came back with a menu and asked if there was anything I could get for him. “Coffee, black and a jumbo muffin”. I brought him a cup and filled it with filter coffee and mentioned that I will be back with his muffin. I looked at him from across the counter still embarrassed by what he had walked into but he didn’t seem too phased by it. He was quite possibly the tallest man I have ever seen and very well built with muscular arms covered in tattoo’s. His hair looked overly greasy and his eyes looked tired. He did not look like someone you should mess with though and I wondered what he was doing alone in a diner at this time of the morning. I went over to his table with his jumbo cappuccino muffin and placed it in front of him. “There you go, and uhm sorry for what you had to witness earlier, it could not have been pretty.” I said as I bit my lower lip and I could feel my cheeks heat up again. He chuckled and looked at my name badge. “Lis, huh? Is that short for something?” His voice was deep and full of authority. “No” I lied. “How much do you make here a month Lis?” I was speechless for a second, at first I thought he was going to flirt with me and now he blurts out such a personal question without even blinking an eye. “Excuse me?” I asked. “Did I stutter?” was the only response I got from him. Getting a bit annoyed I told him I don’t think it is any of his damn business and turned around to walk away. He got up after me laughing and caught me by the arm. I turned around pulling my arm from his massive hands ready to knee the son of a bitch if he dared to make another move. I think he could see it in my eyes as he immediately took a step back and raised his hands in defense all the while still chuckling. “Whoa little fire ball! I was just asking a question. No need to get so worked up”.

Asshole.

“I can’t imagine the pay in this place being all that well even with some graveyard shifts and by the looks of your menu prices I assume the tips are quite low as well.”

“Why the fudge“ he interrupted me before I could finish my sentence clearly laughing at my inability to use actual curse words. Obviously by now I have no fucking problem using them anymore.

“I would like to offer you an opportunity doll” he said still smirking.

“What kind of opportunity? And I’m not your doll” I replied my voice as cold and stern as I could manage.

“You see, I own a little club a couple of blocks from here and I think your sweet dance moves and feisty personality could really be a value add to the joint.”

The bastard was making fun of me!

“Look weirdo.. I am not in the mood for any jokes tonight. It is late and I think it is best if you finish your coffee and leave.” I looked at him with ice cold eyes making sure to get my point across.

“I’m not kidding in any way doll.” I rolled my eyes at this condescending nick name he has decided to give me. “I’m deadly serious, I would love a little spitfire like you in my club. My clients will go crazy for you.” There was a twinkle in his eyes when he said this. I could tell now he wasn’t joking.

“So this opportunity.. You mean like bar tending or something 'coz lemme tell you, I am not very good with mixing drinks sir.” I admitted.

He nearly let out a snort at my response and his eyes instantly went dark.

“Oh no doll, not like bartending at all.” He said with an almost devilish smirk. “I think you should stop by the club sometime and come check it out for yourself. I can promise you you will earn at least double what you are getting at this dump.”

He pulled out a black business card from his wallet along with some bills, placed it on the counter and left with only a “cheers doll!” and another ding ding as he went through the doors.

I stood there for a moment taking in this strange encounter that just unfolded. I turned around and looked at the business card and the cash on the counter. I counted the cash and even though his bill would only have come to six dollars he left three hundred dollars on the counter. Holy shit! I turned the card around and all that was on it was the Club’s name, what I assume is mystery mans’ name and an address.

Bare Necessities

Don Bannister - Owner

1987 Cyril Street, NY

I tried googling this club and after half an hour of intense searching nothing came up. Absolutely nothing. I thought it was strange but by this time it was 4:30am, my red bull buzz had worn off completely and I was beyond exhausted. I put the card in my pocket, cleaned down, locked up and headed home.