Dancing
After the initial interview, Belinda had me dance, and at first, I was sure I would throw up, but I didn’t, and by the end, she was smiling and nodding. She offered me the job and gave me my own code for getting through the dancer’s entrance.
I decided to go shopping after, realising I no longer had anything. suitable for the job. After buying new clothes I headed home and began to practice, more because I was anxious. I like that the routines are not planned, each dancer can do her own thing, so it removes the stress of trying to remember moves.
Freedom to dance in any way I want is what I need. Unrestricted, it’s when I dance the best. By eight pm I am in bed and tired, knowing that tomorrow is my first day. Well, tomorrow night is.
Waking I get myself ready, then sit with my phone, switching the sim cards over again. As soon as it powers on the messages begin to flood, ignoring his and any unknown numbers I search out my dad and read his message.
He tells me the club is going great, and that my mum and sister are good as well. He doesn’t mention Joel which is great, it means he hasn‘ t shown up there. I reply with a quick message that I am drowning in university work but hope to come home to visit in a few weeks.
I say weeks knowing it will be months more than likely, but saying weeks will make him relax and be happy. I don’t wait for his reply before taking out the SIM card and putting in the new one that I use for
work and such.
Dancing
I spend the day trying to relax, ready for tonight. Before I know it, it’s time to leave. Grabbing my things I leave, driving to the club I go the way that Belinda said. Walking through I stop seeing a man.
“Harley?”
I nod to him..
“I’m Rob, I own the place. Belinda is better at finding women suitable than I am. I will show you where the other girls get changed, sometimes they get changed halfway through the night, it also has a small kitchen so on your break you can sit in there.”
I nod and follow him around, he stops next to a door.
“Toilets, these are for the dancers only! The door opposite is the room where dancers get changed, sit and relax on break. Again, purely for dancers. Security toilet, their break room.” He points to the next two doors.
“Thank you.” I am glad things are split, it will make me feel better.
“Okay, you have fifteen minutes then come out, you can stay on stage, move, it’s your choice as Belinda said. Here’s your mask, it has your name inside, your stage name that is. Never use your real name, Harley.”
“That’s great thank you.” He nods and walks off, walking through to the room I sit down, my head falling back. I’m glad none of the women are in here. I need five minutes to compose myself. An hour later I feel relaxed, dancing through the tables. I ensure I sat on the opposite side of the men, ensuring the table was between us.
All the men are wearing masks, which I like, it means I have no idea if the guy I served coffee just a week ago with his wife is currently
1550
watching my ass shake. I smile to myself at that, I like this place, it’s better than the place I danced at before.
My first few weeks at the club went great, by the time three months had passed, I was comfortable dancing closer to the guys.
And now, six months later, I’m comfortable dancing on their laps. Which I am. I smile and move against him, and he keeps his hands off my body, other than a few times to slip money into the waistband of my skirt.
I move dancing between the tables, stopping at the next. I roll my eyes. seeing the other dancers. They are here for money, I mean I am but not like them. I dance through the tables, linger for a couple of minutes and move on.
The girls here are leeches, they dance through the tables, but all their attention and energy stick to the rich guys. It might mean they get a lot more cash tonight, but then the guys never come back once they realise how much they went through.
I also hate the rich ones, they are usually old, fat and don’t even try to hide their wedding rings. They often try to feel you up as well. So while I dance with them, I barely do lap dances for them, and I certainly don’t dangle on them.
As I dance I see Rob waving me over. I move, dancing through the tables, before stopping at him. He is standing by a pole, so I dance as I. wait for him to talk.
“How much would you object to extra cash?” I stop mid–spin at his words. “I know you say no and refuse but please? I wouldn’t ask you Harley if it wasn’t important.”
“Why not just get one of the others to dance for them?” I don’t do
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private booths.
“Because the men can see the difference. They can see the difference between someone who dances because they love to dance and those who are doing it to try milk cash.”
I keep dancing on the pole.
“Rob, I don’t do private dances.”
“What if I give you double, for the whole night? Including double the tips men give you.”
I laugh at his words. “Are you crazy?” He must be to offer me that.
“No, I just know this man is a client we want and need. You know the booths ask for a reasonable donation, he paid five k, for an hour.” I stop mid–swing. That’s a lot, most pay one to three hundred, and he paid five thousand?
“Look, all I am thinking is if we impress him, he may speak to more of his friends, and bring them here.” He hopes, but it’s unlikely. Most
don’t return.
“Okay, but then I want all my holidays. All at once, I will leave Monday to see family, I have a month off.” I should go home and see my dad.
“Fine. You get the five k he paid for the room, double our usual pay as well. And you can take your time off after this weekend. He’s in the blue room.” He smiles and walks off. Getting down from the pole I dance towards the hall with the rooms, once there I stop.
Am I really doing this? I have been in the booths before when dancers. took too long and I had to go in and remind them time was up. Often
Dancing
the men were old, heavily overweight, and grubby. They had secrets to keep hidden and used the room to hide them.