is first to stick her hand out and introduce herself. The man takes her hand, pulls it to his mouth and kisses it, while introducing himself as Luigi, the club’s owner/manager. Before either girl has a chance to speak, he pops the question, “Here for a job?”
“That obvious?” Sally asks.
“Honey, every female who comes here is looking to become one of my dancers. I run a class act and can’t seem to beat the girls away with a broom.” He stops a moment to size them up before continuing, “Now, you two…. Ever danced before?”
Angel responds, “No, we were sent to you by Misty. You remember her? Worked with her out in LA for a while.”
“Let me see,” Luigi says, scratching his head with a chubby finger.
“Misty, ah, yes, I remember her well. An amazing brunette with a tight little ass and a great rack—really knew how to work the pole.
How’s she doing?”
Angel answers, “Not so good. She’s dead. Overdosed a few weeks ago.”
“Ah, sorry to hear that. She was a sweet girl. I liked her. Any friend of Misty’s is a friend of mine. Bring something to dance in?”
Angel points to their bags.
“All right then, why don’t you get changed? When you’re ready, we’ll see what you’ve got.”
The girls walk the length of the bar, down the hallway and through an unmarked door into the dressing room grateful to find themselves alone when they enter. Sally looks at Angel and questions, “Are we really going to do this?”
“Come on. This is our chance…a way to a better life. I’ll be right there rooting you on and,” Angel pauses for impact, “checking out your ass from behind.”
Sally laughs. “Thanks, Angel. Let’s do this!”
The girls change from their street clothes into the outfits they packed for the audition. After getting dressed, Angel goes over to the long bank of mirrored dressing tables and begins touching up her make-up. Sally, uncomfortable with mirrors, opts to remain by her locker and use a small compact from her purse. When Angel is done, she turns slowly and looks at her reflected image. Satisfied with what she sees, she walks over to Sally. “Okay, let’s see.”
Sally stands up and pivots for Angel, who responds, “Girl, you look hot!”
They give each other a hug for good luck and walk out of the dressing room to the bar. Luigi is waiting for them along with a group of employees. One of the small stages has been cleared for their audition.
“Ready?”
Sally looks coyly at two enormous hunks standing by the edge of the stage. “Give a lady a hand up, boys?”
They eagerly lift her onto the stage. Once there, she nods at Luigi, who clicks a button on a recorder. Not quite sure what to do, Sally begins gyrating her torso slowly and grinding the air with her hips, all the while imagining that she is having sex with an invisible man. Before long, she forgets where she is and really gets into the song while seductively removing her clothing. The “judges” hoot and holler, urging her on. She barely hears them. When she is stripped down to nothing but her black lace bra and g-string, she positions herself against the pole and begins sliding up and down, rhythmically grinding it with her pelvis. The men go wild. Sensing the song is coming to an end, Sally steps away from the pole and removes her bra, tossing it to one of the judges. She leaves her clothes where they lay when the song ends, and walks confidently (or so it appears) to the edge of the stage to address Luigi who bears a wide grin.
“You’re a natural. Don’t change a thing.” He looks over at Angel.
“Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Sally gathers her strewn clothing and has the men assist her off stage. Angel walks over to the stage and looks at the huge hunks.
“Boys?” They lift her onto the stage. Like Sally, she nods at Luigi who begins the music. Her audition goes as smoothly as Sally’s.
When she is done, she walks over to hear Luigi’s verdict. The smile on his face speaks volumes. She, too, has a job.
“Can you start tonight?” he asks. “I’m a couple of dancers short.
It would really help me out.”
“Sure,” Sally says.
He nods towards a black attractive woman now seated at the other end of the bar. “Go see our house mom, Mama Pearl. She’ll put you in the rotation. Come see me before you leave tonight for your tip-out.”
“Thanks!” Angel says.
While walking over to Mama Pearl, Angel leans over to Sally and whispers, “What the hell’s a tip-out?”
“Don’t know. Don’t worry about it. We’ll find out at the end of the night.” She squeezes Angel’s hand. “We’ve got jobs!”
Mama Pearl must have been an attractive woman in her day. Her complexion is flawless. It is obvious, although she has gained pounds with the passage of time, that she was once a real looker. She has an ample chest and an hourglass figure. When she smiles, her eyes twinkle, lighting up the room. The girls are immediately smitten with her. Sally says, “Mama Pearl? We’ve just been hired and need to be put in the dance rotation for tonight. I’m Sally and this is Angel. We were friends with Misty.”
Mama Pearl smiles broadly at the mention of their friend’s name.
“How is that girl? Shame on her for losing contact with me. You’ll have to scold her for me the next time you see her.”
Angel breaks Mama Pearl’s heart with the news of Misty’s untimely death. “Tsk, tsk, what a waste…. Such a lovely girl. Ain’t no good dwelling on the negative. What’s done is done. Let’s get you set up in the dressing room.”
Both girls dance six hours that night. By the end of the evening, their legs feel as if they might fall off, and they learn from Luigi that a tip-out is a procedure where the dancers each give a percentage of their nightly earnings to be divided up by the bartenders, doormen, DJ and house mom.
Even after paying their percentage, they walk away with just over $300 each in their pockets. Ax never allowed them to have this much money. Both are giddy and head to the dressing room to change into their street clothes. They return to the bar before leaving, and drink to toast their good fortune.
The next day Sally and Angel sleep in, a luxury they could never indulge in while working for Ax. Over coffee Angel asks, “How about we go shopping and treat ourselves to a little TLC? I know we could both use some new outfits and there’s always the need for more shoes.”
“I’ve been wanting a French manicure and a good foot massage,”
Sally says. “Let’s do it!”
They ask a motel clerk where the nearest discount clothing shop
