THE BILLIONAIRE AND THE STRIPPER
WRITTEN BY: Pamela James
DO NOT COPY OR REPOST
I walked into work quietly, holding my bag closely under my arm. It wasn’t quiet in the club. Everyone got here before me and there were already guests sitting in the lounges, already being serviced.
I walked towards the back and pushed open the door that lead to a back dressing room.
There was an open space with a mirror and chair, a few clothes laying on it, and a charger plugged into a socket. I put my bag down on the chair and sighed to myself.
” You seem tired….” a friend beside me spoke.
I turned to Jennifer, seeing her holding a cigarette that wasn’t lit yet.
“Carlos will fire you.” I said to her, because Carlos hates it when anyone of us smokes.
” It’s not lit!” She pulled her lips in as she set the cigarette down.
” So you sober or….?”
I felt terrible.
” We have to stop performing at house parties.”
I feel sore.
My muscles were aching and in pain.
My fingers hurt.
My back hurt, and my thighs hurt.
” It was fun.” Jennifer laughed to herself.
I know we had fun drinking and smoking.
I don’t drink much, at all.
I’m not a fan of alcohol, but I can smoke everyday and not feel bad. I shouldn’t drink and smoke. I had to admit the party was fun though, and on the side I made a little extra money.
” You know, I actually got paid last night. They know they didn’t hire strippers.”
” That’s what happened before you were swinging outside on a lamp post.” She laughed louder.
I don’t remember getting out of hand.
” I have to get you drunk more often.” She got up from her hair so she could leave.
Sometimes I forget that I’m a stripper until I start climbing on items I shouldn’t climb on.
Jennifer is nice enough to bring me to parties, to hang out with the others, though I’m way younger than they are. I will be turning twenty-one at the end of the year, and I probably won’t say anything about it till it’s my birthday.
The environment can get a little crazy, but it’s not as raunchy as I thought it would be. That’s why I stayed for a year. It’s not as vulgar, but it can be, I’d like to think of this place as a classy party on some nights, but it can get wild. Though I strip, I don’t have to take of my underwear if I don’t want to. And sex to the club is against policy. I think my boss put that in place because of me.
But I’m not interested in being with anyone here. I just want my money so I can go home and pay my bills.
It’s just me in my life. My parents died. My other family members aren’t around, and I had nothing. I didn’t go to college, and I didn’t get another job. I needed the money, and I get it fast when I work here. It’s better.
Sometimes I’m going home with a thousand dollars a night. But I still have bills to pay, and at the end of the month I’m not left with a lot.