stopped dancing and looked down at the bartender. “Forget it. I can’t do this.” She picked up the bathrobe off the stage floor.
“I didn’t say you couldn’t dance.”
She slipped on the robe and stepped off the stage. “Didn’t say I could either.”
He pulled a cigarette from a pack. “You really eighteen?”
Janie looked him dead in the face. “Yep.”
He stared her down. The trick was not to look away.
“Okay. I’m probably going to be sorry. Oh, what the hell.” He lit his cigarette. “You look like one of them hippie chicks, but you got a nice ass. Tell you what – you got something that says you’re eighteen?”
Janie nodded yes.
“You can go on at four and we’ll see how you do. I’m Ernie. Me and my business partner own this bar. You got any problems take it up with one of us.”
Janie pulled the robe around her. “Thanks.”
“You ought to meet Stella too. The girls you’ll meet later.” Ernie yelled down the hall. “Hey Stella – you back there?”
A man appeared from the back of the hall. He was tall and black. His head was shaved and a ruby shined from a pierced ear. He wore a sleeveless white T-shirt, and on his right bicep a tattoo of three stars balanced on a slipper moon.
Ernie introduced them. “Stella, this here’s the new girl – What’d you say your name was?”
Janie looked up and up at the giant in front of her. His arms were bigger around then her head. “I’m Janie.”
Stella nodded and walked away.
Ernie took a drag off his cigarette. “Don’t take it personal. Stella’s not much of a talker.”
After Janie put her clothes on, she helped Ernie while waiting for four p.m. She wiped down the tables, cleaned the bathrooms, and vacuumed. He made them each a sandwich of bologna and white bread with Thousand Island dressing and barbecued potato chips smashed into the bread. Janie had been on the road long enough to eat whatever was in front of her and not complain. The sandwich was actually pretty good.
At about three, a woman came through the door. She wore a green scarf tied around her red hair and a pair of dark glasses. She went to the cooler behind the bar and took out a can of tomato juice not looking at Janie. “ Who’s this?” she asked Ernie as she popped open the can and poured the juice into a cocktail glass, garnishing it with a lemon slice.
Ernie was doing another crossword puzzle. “New dancer. Delores, this here’s Janie. And vise versey.”
Delores took off her sunglasses and squinted hard at Janie. “You ever done this before?”
“Strip? No ma’am.”
“Baby, we aren’t strippers here. Stripping’s different from the shit Ernie pays for. We’re dancers. You just get naked and dance.” Delores smiled. “She’ll do. She’s respectful.” Delores picked up her juice and took Janie by the elbow. “Let’s get you ready for show biz.”
Janie followed her to the dressing room.
“How old are you?” Delores asked.
“I’m eighteen.”
Delores snorted. “Sure. And I’m really Ann Margaret.”
Janie spoke softly. “I’m sixteen.”
“Anybody out looking for you?” Delores asked.
“Nope.”
Delores shook her head. “You have a place to stay?”
“I’m just going to be here a couple of days.”
“You can stay at my place tonight.”
A blonde girl in a pair of tight jeans burst into the dressing room. “Hey Dee! Look what I got at the Bargain Barn. Don’t you love this little top? I love pink. Maybe I’ll do my nails to match.” She noticed Janie. “You going to be the new girl? I’m Amber. You’d look good in blue – baby blue! Set off your eyes.”
Amber tossed Janie a pair of ice-blue bikini bottoms from a box on the floor. Janie wondered how a pair of blue panties on her ass was going to make her eyes look blue, but she didn’t say anything. Delores handed Janie a tube of lipstick. “You better get ready. You’re up first.” From her purse she took a metal box and opened it. She handed Janie a pill. “Take this. It’ll make your life easier.”
Janie swallowed the rocket shaped pill and looked at her face in the mirror. Whoever she was once was just about gone. She smeared on lipstick, took off her clothes, and pulled on the blue bikini bottoms, licking a pair of pasties and sticking them on her nipples. She put on the white robe and cinched it shut. She’d be Mohammed Ali and float like a butterfly. Nothing would touch her.
Music blared from the bar. The voices of men and the occasional crack of billiard balls reached the dressing room as the place filled up.
It was almost four.
Delores smiled at Janie. “You look real sweet, honey. Don’t worry. Today’s payday for most of those monkeys out there. They just want to see some fresh tail. Shake your ass around and you’ll be fine. Dance three numbers and then come on back. You can pick out your own music on the jukebox. Okay?”
Janie walked to the jukebox and looked at the playlist. Patsy Cline’s Crazy. Lots of Rolling Stones, some Marvin Gaye. Janie peered over her shoulder. The men in the bar wore work boots and denim jackets; they smoked cigarettes and drank beer; their loud voices erupted into even louder laughter. Janie looked at every song twice before picking out her three.
Ernie yelled from the bar. “You’re up.”
Janie took the stairs one at a time. There were only two steps.
Her first song started with Keith Richard’s guitar solo, Can’t You Hear Me Knocking. She’d loved dancing to this song since the Sticky Fingers album came out when she was twelve. She dropped her robe, and somebody whistled. Men yelled up at her. She couldn’t move. The men were so loud she couldn’t think. She thought she would throw up or pass out.
Stella appeared at the edge of the stage. “Come on down.” His voice was deep. Janie took the steps quickly this time, pulling her robe on as she went. The crowd booed. Stella handed her a pair of sunglasses. He motioned to the room full of men. “You going to let them mess with you? Get your Zen on, girl. You’ll be fine.”
She put on the black-mirrored Ray-Bans. “Can I start over?”
Stella walked to the jukebox and pushed some buttons. Keith Richards started playing again, then Charlie Watts on the drums, and finally Mick Jagger. Janie took a deep breath. You could do just about anything if you thought about it right. Janie jumped up on the stage like a fighter coming out strong from her corner. She remembered watching boxing matches with her dad a long time ago. The boxers would always dance in their corner throwing punches
