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Two Shoe Minimum

 

 

 

 

 

One time I was talking to a girl at the bar who used to be a stripper, and I asked her if she had any interesting stories. She said when she worked the afternoon shift, the guys who came in were usually out-of-town business men who traveled frequently, and they tipped very well, but afternoons as a whole was always less busy than nights.

Then she glanced at her cell-phone, she was an extremely attractive white twenty-something, with blonde hair and blue eyes. In fact her skin was so flawless that she almost looked like a porcelain doll.

She was of medium height, and had large natural breasts, that she got lifted and made bigger, a year after her son was born. Her hips were wide, wider than most, not unattractive but uncommon for “white-girls,” which made her extremely sexy both up top, and bottom.

She told me that she had to stop working nights because there were men of a different race, who wouldn’t leave her alone. I tried to get her to give me some specifics, but she would only tell me that it got so bad that even with the bouncers, she still didn’t feel safe.

Nights always had a younger, louder, more aggressive, and less respectful crowd than afternoons, they tipped less, and were always more trouble. And weekends were the worst.

“It was the same bullshit I had to put up with in high-school, she said, I won’t go in the back with them, even when they have the money. And I don’t have to. I don’t have to give private dances just because someone with dirty fingernails shoves a handful of cash in my face, she said, I’m not obligated.

When I walked away, they would call me names, or tell me I’m a racist, but I was just afraid for my safety. I know girls who have been raped, robbed, choked, and beaten, right in the club, and I have a little boy to look after, she said.

“Destiny,” was her stage name when she worked as a stripper. She was a single mom, unmarried, and uneducated, supporting both herself and her four-year old son, with no help from her “sperm-donor,”

She didn’t even regard the father as her “Babies Daddy, because she didn’t want him involved in any aspect of her son’s life. She was still very young and despite her lack of education seemed very intelligent.

Destiny said one day an old man watched her for hours, and then asked her if he could buy her a dress, because he wanted to see her in a particular outfit. Apparently he was widowed and Destiny reminded him of his wife when they first got married.

She said, “You have to ask my boss, and if he says its okay, then I’ll wear it.” So the old man asked her for her dress size, and went looking for her boss, after that she didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

She figured that he must have been some harmless old kook who had a “senior” moment. Well about a month later, that same old man came back with the dress he wanted Destiny to wear, after she tried it on, she came out, and there was a room in the back, where they could dance privately, and they ball-room danced for almost an hour. 

“Did the dress fit, I asked,”

“Yes, it did, she said thankfully.”

“What color was it, I asked.”

“Red, she said.”

“When he left did he take the dress with him, I asked.”

“No, I kept it, she replied, “I said it fit didn’t I?” 

“Did you ever see him again, I asked?”

“No, this was three years ago, and I finally I gave up, she said.”

“Were you waiting for him to bring you another dress, I asked?”

“No, I just wanted to ask him where he bought it, so I could find the matching shoes, Destiny said.”

And with that she went back to her cell-phone.

 

-Rath

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