The club is dead. All the girls are waiting for 2 a.m. to come around. White dude sits down next to me on the love seat. I put my phone down.
Silence. I’m tired. I’m not “on” anymore. But I know I need more money.
“Would you like a lap dance before we close?”
“Let’s turn that maybe into a yes. I give good dances and if you tip generously, you can touch my boobs. They’re fun and real.”
“I’ll want to touch more than that.”
“Sorry sweetie, that’s all you get.”
“I will break your rules.”
“No you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Nah, you’ll be so excited about the tits, you’ll forget about the rest.”
“Nope, I’m gonna break your rules.”
“I’ll make you sit on your hands.”
“I’m going to wash my hands, and then we’ll go to the back.”
“Sure, honey.” I know that washing hands is a red flag, but I don’t give a shit. I go back to my phone. Texting Elizabeth. I look back after a few minutes and see him walking this way, I start to stand, but he’s intercepted by another dancer. They talk for a second and then go back to the lap dancing area. I sit back down. Not bummed at all.