by Untamed
“Leave her alone. Y’all know she the goody-goody,” Alize said to the others. They dispersed. Once they went about their business, Alize walked up to me and sat down beside me. “Why you do this shit?”
“Huh?” I asked her, looking at her with a confused stare.
“Bitch, you heard me,” she said, smacking her lips before she continued. “You ain’t like the rest of us. We do this shit ’cause we like it. Say what you want, but I’m using what my mama gave me. Ain’t no shame in flaunting what you got to make it. To me, it’s only shameful if you think it is. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll get down every which way to stay on top. Dancing, fucking, it don’t matter, shit, male or female. If he or she got that green, I will dance, shake, fuck, and suck whatever they ask me to. But this shit ain’t you. So why do it?”
Alize caught me off guard with her question. I’d never gotten close to any of the girls because I knew I was different. She was right. They did this because they wanted to do it. I did this out of necessity. I didn’t think I was better than them. I just wanted better for myself and my daughter. However, listening to Alize, it was the first time I felt comfortable enough to share my personal feelings with any one of them. To be honest, I needed it. I couldn’t talk to my family or, hell, not even my girls because of Trinity’s relationship with Pooch. Being able to talk to someone was a welcomed and needed release.
“I got fired from my job, and I got a baby to support. That’s why,” I said plainly. “Y’all do what you want. I ain’t knocking it. I’m just here to dance and get my money. After that, I go home to my baby. She don’t know what I do, and she don’t need to know. All she needs to know is that her mami loves her and will always make a way for her. That’s all that matters to me.”
Alize nodded. “I feel you. I ain’t got no kids, but I feel you. I wish my mama felt like that about me. Maybe I would feel different today,” she said with sadness evident in her voice.
For the first time, I realized all of us had a story to tell. Maybe my reason seemed more genuine than the next female’s, but ultimately we were all women lost in this man’s world, trying to get in wherever the fuck we could fit in. And for the briefest of moments, Alize was not just some chickenhead stripper I worked with. She was a misguided woman simply trying to make it, like me.
“Bitch, you getting me all emotional, and I gotta go dance soon,” I joked to lighten the mood.
She laughed, picking up on my lighthearted banter. “Hell, you was the one telling that sad-ass story.”
Nonchalantly, I shrugged. “You asked.”
Standing, she nodded and patted me on the shoulder. “You look good,” she assured me. “I’m sure the deejay is about to call you to the stage.” She picked up the hairbrush and brushed my hair down in the back.
“Yeah.” I glanced down and then looked up as our eyes met in the mirror. “Thanks for the talk. I needed it.”
“Ain’t no thang. We all do sometimes,” she said and set the brush down.
Just then, the deejay announced that I was next. “That’s my cue,” I said, standing up.
Stepping back, Alize eyed me up and down, then placed her hands on her hips. “Damn, bitch, you let me know if you change your mind about switching teams. I want first taste.” Alize licked her lips. “Damn, you look good.”
“If I ever bump my head and do that, you’ll be the first to know,” I joked, walking toward the backstage entrance.
“Bitch, don’t make me trip you up on the stairs and make you suffer a concussion,” she joked, turning to go to the front.
Alize was right. The joint was packed tonight, and these dudes looked as if they were ballin’ for sure. I walked out and did my thing to “Blame It” by Jamie Foxx. When I ended it with my signature move, the bouncers had to keep this one dude who was drunk out of his mind from storming the stage. I had so much money on the floor and on my thongs and garter, it was insane. As I walked to the back, I counted it up and found I had made $2,000 in my stage show alone. Damn!
Greg walked in the back. “You got some regulars wanting private dances, Spanish Fly,” he told me.
“I’m coming,” I said, tossing a shot of Cuervo before walking out.
“Damn, baby, you look good.” Greg licked his lips. “Too bad it can only be business between us.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I ignored him and walked out on the floor to one of my regulars. He gave me 500 bones off the rip, and I began twisting and dancing my ass off. I moved on to the next dude who had graced me with another hundred bones when one of the waitresses, Tiffany, tapped me on the shoulder.
“Spanish, those dudes want you. It’s the guy in the blindfold’s birthday, and they want you to give him a dance,” she laughed.
“Them dudes got money, Tiff?” I asked her.
“Shit, the one who asked gave me a fifty spot as a tip for one ice-cold beer, so I would say so. Don’t nobody tip us waitresses like that unless they’re a celebrity.”
“A’ight then,” I said, making my way over to the group of men. “They tell me y’all are checking for Spanish Fly,” I said as I approached them.
“Hell yeah. We missed your performance, but I’ve seen it before. You gotta do something special for my mans right here. It’s his twenty-eighth birthday. He’s a professional now, and he doesn’t really hang out like this no more. Show him what the fuck he’s been missing,” the one who requested me said, while the other men hooted.
“His birthday, huh?” I asked erotically. “Why y’all got him in a blindfold?”
“Shit, I had to keep you a secret until I could secure the dance,” he replied as his boys gave him daps.
One of the dudes smacked my ass. “Damn, look at that shit jiggle!” he shouted, sticking a fifty in my thong.
“I told you, dude,” the first guy said.
I walked over to the birthday boy and whispered seductively in his ear, “Are you ready to get caught in the Spanish Fly trap?”
He nodded eagerly. “Yes,” he said, trying to keep his composure.
“Hell yeah! Damn! I wish it was my birthday!” the guy who gave me the fifty hollered.
I began dancing on the birthday boy to get him hot, and he was shifting in his chair something awful as his boys started throwing money at me. I scooped it up. I bent down with my ass tooted in his face when his boy lifted the blindfold. I spread my cheeks and made them clap for him.
“Ooh shit!” he said excitedly as his boys hollered in pleasure.
More money fell, and I collected it all. I turned around to straddle him, and when our eyes met, I nearly choked. It was Mr. Sharper, my old boss! My heart rate was going a mile a minute, and suddenly I felt like a cheap slut.
He sat forward. “Lucinda?” he asked, confused.
“Oh shit,” I said nervously. “Mr. Sharper.”
“Dawg, you know Spanish Fly?” the guy who requested me asked as the others looked on in shock.
“Lucinda?” he asked again in amazement as I covered over my titties, turned, and ran away. “Lucinda!” I heard him yelling, but I kept running.
When I reached the dressing room, I paced back and forth nervously and drank a long swig from my bottle of Jose Cuervo. I couldn’t believe this shit! Of all the strip clubs in Atlanta, this dude had to show up at Moet! I never knew Mr. Sharper was so young. Hell, I never looked at him that way because I went to work to work, unlike the rest of the females who were constantly trying to get at him. That’s why they harped so much on me being his pet. The majority of them wanted him for themselves. He was a successful, good-looking, chocolate black man who I never in a million years would’ve thought I would cross paths with again, especially not at Club Moet!
Soon Greg came busting through the door. “What the fuck is you doing?” he yelled. “You ran off from some patrons?”
“I’m sorry, Greg. I am, but I can’t go back out there tonight,” I said to him as I gathered my things.
“What the fuck you mean you can’t go back out there? Ye
s, you are,” he hollered.
“No, I’m not,” I said sternly.
“Look! I don’t know what your beef is with them dudes. Did some ill shit go down?” he asked. “Me and Big Crunch will handle it.”
“Nah, they didn’t get out of hand.”
“Well then, Spanish,” he said, grabbing me by my arm and spinning me around, “you better get to explaining why you running off.”
“Look! I know one of them dudes. I never thought I’d see him here, and I just prefer to go home tonight,” I told him.
“I don’t give a fuck if you saw your daddy, Spanish. This is a business. Sex sells, so go and sell it!”
“I’ll sell it on Tuesday,” I told him.
“You won’t have a job on Tuesday if you don’t get out there!”
“I’ll holla at Pooch,” I said dismissively.
“I already did,” he interjected. “Pooch said if nothing ill happened, you needed to go finish up. He’s not going to have his customers not being satisfied because you getting a conscience. So if you don’t go back out there, by direct orders from Pooch, you are fired, Spanish Fly.”
Fuck me! That fucking Pooch could be a heartless-ass bastard. No wonder Trinity fucked Terrence that night. Pooch and I used to be down like four flats on a Cadillac. I knew him back when his moms still called him Vernon. He forgot it was me who stopped Big Mike from whooping his ass on the playground by letting him feel on my butt. And it was me who fed him the info about Trinity needing her rent paid so he could use that information to push up on her. I’d hand delivered his woman to him after years of his ass not being able to hook up with her, and he did me like this? Me? I should’ve known that puto only cared about his money, though. At the end of the day, he was and always would be a true-blooded hustla.
Panic kicking in, I made a desperate-ass move. “Yo, Greg,” I said coyly to him. “How can we make this square between us? I’m sure there’s something I can do so that you won’t, you know, tell Pooch,” I said, leaning on him sexily, slowly licking my lips. “I’ll do anything.”
Greg smiled and rubbed his hands together. With his ugly ass! But I was in a fucked-up situation, and I needed my so-called job. “Meet me in my office in fifteen minutes. I’m sure we can work some thangs out,” he said, gripping my ass.
“All right, boo.” I planted a wet kiss on his lips.
Greg licked his lips and shook his head. Then he turned to walk away. “Oh, and if you have a change of heart, don’t bother coming back,” he said and walked out.
I grabbed a paper towel and wiped his nasty kiss off my lips. I didn’t know what to do. If I followed through with this, I’d become another ho in the streets, and then these dudes would expect me to do anything to get down. If I didn’t, I’d be fired again, and I’d be broke in a couple of months with only my unemployment check to sustain me. I’d even quit Susie Q’s for this damn gig. I exhaled as I sat down in a chair in the dressing room and took another swig of Jose Cuervo before putting my hair up in a ponytail. Looking at myself in the mirror, I concluded, “Sometimes a woman has to do what she has to do,” and I prepared to go and fuck the shit out of Greg.
Just as I stood, some rosary beads that Nadia had given me fell out of my bag, and I picked them up. It was as if I heard God Himself ask me, “Where is your faith?”
I jumped because the voice was so real. I looked around, but there was no one there. It was just me and the beads. Tears instantly streamed down my cheeks, and I pulled out a picture of Nadia. That’s when I knew I couldn’t do it. Whether I was fired or not, I was getting the hell out of Club Moet. Alize and the rest of these broads could have it. I was better than this. Pooch just didn’t realize he did me the biggest favor in the world. Never again, no more did I have to walk through these doors and degrade myself. No matter what happened, neither stripping or fucking was the answer for me. Spanish Fly was officially retiring, and Lucinda was about to get on the job hunt.
I dressed and made my way to Greg’s office. When I opened the door, he was sitting at his desk with a box of Trojans.
“Ready, Ms. Fly?” he asked with a huge-ass smile on his face.
“No, I’m not. As a matter of fact, tell Pooch thanks, but no thanks anymore. I quit,” I said, turning to walk away.
“Spanish Fly!” he yelled. “I gave them niggas a hundred bones back to get a dance from Chocolate Flava! Get your ass back here!”
I turned around, took out a hundred spot, and threw it at him. “Now we’re even.”
“Don’t come here looking for work no more! Fuck you, Spanish Fly!” he called out as I shut his door.
Alize clapped as I walked by. “I knew you couldn’t hang, goody-goody.”
“You got it. I’m good.” I threw my hands up.
“Let me go rock this nigga world right quick so he won’t be lying on you to Pooch. I’m your witness that you gave up the money he dished out.”
I frowned. “You’re going to fuck him?”
“Oh, hell yeah. Black and ugly or whatever, that nigga got a king-size dong, and he knows how to make me holla for a dollar! But this one is a favor for you. Trust me, that nigga is grimy.”
I hugged her. “Thanks, Alize.”
“Ain’t no thang. We have to look out for each other in this game. Now get the fuck out of here and go home.” She smiled. “Oh, and if you do bump that head of yours, I’m waiting.”
I laughed as she walked into the office, and soon I heard kissing and moaning. Yuck. Man, help comes from all places. Now I have to get the hell out of this place. As I walked out the door and down the sidewalk, I heard someone yelling my name. I turned around and saw Mr. Sharper. I exhaled and kept walking, but he caught up to me.
“Lucinda, wait,” he yelled, touching my arm.
“Look, Mr. Sharper, I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night. You don’t have to chase me out here,” I said with an attitude, not bothering to look at him.
“Can you just wait a second, please?” he asked with slight irritation in his voice.
I turned to face him. “Okay,” I said nonchalantly.
“I just didn’t want there to be any awkwardness between us. I wanted you to know that I don’t judge what you do.”
“Well, outside of this club and the insurance company, you wouldn’t see me. But you won’t see me at either one now,” I replied.
“Why?”
“After I refused to come back out, I had an option: sleep with the manager so he wouldn’t rat on me to the owner, or get fired. I chose neither. I quit.”
He smiled. “Good for you. Truth be told, you didn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d be in this place anyway. Not from the person I saw at work.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t for me. After I got fired, I made a desperate move and started working here. It was truly one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made, but it’ll get better. It always does. If there’s one thing that Lucinda Rojas is good at, it’s survival,” I explained.
He shook his head. “Lucinda, I’m sorry about that. I wish I could’ve done something so you didn’t have to turn to this. I feel so bad, and believe me, you are missed around there.”
“Mr. Sharper, it’s not your fault. You did what you could do for me, and that’s more than enough.”
“Will you stop calling me Mr. Sharper? That was at work,” he laughed. “Truth be told, I hate that. It makes me sound old as hell.”
I giggled. “Yeah, I had no idea you were only twenty-seven. . . well, twenty-eight now. I mean, not that you look old or anything, it’s just like you said, calling you Mr. Sharper makes you seem so much older, and it’s extremely formal.”
“Why don’t you say how you really feel?” he said sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I just keep it real. Besides, you don’t want me to call you Mr. Sharper, but I don’t even know your first name,” I chuckled.
He extended his hand for a handshake. “My name is Aldris. Aldris Sharper.”
I shook his hand. “Aldris.
Kinda like Idris or Al—” I was saying.
“Al Sharpton!” he laughed, cutting me off. “Don’t even go there. That’s exactly why I do not go by Al.”
I burst into laughter. “I’ll bet you don’t, especially if you used to rock some long, permed hair!”
“Hell to the no,” he laughed.
“Hey, but Idris Elba is a compliment. That dude is too fine for words,” I said, shaking my head.
“I’ll take your word for it. I’m not even trying to feel that way about ol’ dude,” he joked.
I looked at the time. “I better get out of here. My daughter’s grandma is watching her. I should go ahead and pick her up.”
He nodded. “Okay. I didn’t mean to hold you up.”
“No, no, you’re cool. It’s all good,” I assured him.
“It was good seeing you again,” he said.
“You too,” I agreed as I turned to walk away. “Oh yeah, have fun with Chocolate Flava.” I giggled.
“Whatever,” he chuckled. “Hey, wait. I almost forgot.”
“What’s up?” I asked, turning back around.
“Listen, I know some contacts in the medical field. Maybe I could look around for you or just keep my ear to the ground and let you know when opportunities come up. I know it’s not my fault, but I feel like I owe you. I hate what happened, and I just feel like a hard worker such as you deserves a chance,” he explained.
“Well, that’s cool. I’d really appreciate that.”
“Can I have a contact number so that if I do find something, I could let you know?” he asked with a little sarcasm.
“Shut up,” I said with a laugh as he handed me his phone. I plugged my phone number in his contact list.
“Cool. I’ll keep you posted,” he said and put his phone back in his back pocket.
“Thank you, Aldris,” I stressed for effect.
“Good night, Lucinda.” He chuckled.
“Good night.”
Once in my car, I couldn’t help but pray that he really did help me, but for now, I was going home to enjoy time with my daughter. Even though I had no job and limited income, I felt so free and liberated. For some reason, I felt as if my life were finally just beginning. Whatever the feeling was, I hoped it lasted a long, long time.