by Douglas Young<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That evening Forsythia Farmer turned into the parking lot of Gator Tales, the state\u2019s largest strip club, to park by the private back entrance manned by a large, intimidating bouncer. Despite being one of the club\u2019s most popular attractions, the dancer known as Domino Double-D Dean still drove a fifteen-year-old car with fading paint. Between providing for her two-year-old son, rent, university tuition, and various other never-ending bills, plus investing as much money as possible toward her son\u2019s education, Forsythia figured she was better off holding onto her old Toyota. When enticed to buy a flashy new car like several other dancers, her ready reply was, \u201cI can afford it, but can\u2019t justify it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Once parked, Miss Farmer sighed and turned to the large gray cat resting on the front seat.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cShowtime, Lucy Fur,\u201d she announced as she picked up her bag and feline friend. Though against the rules, Forsythia could bring the cat to the dancers\u2019 dressing room since she was one of the club\u2019s top earners, and the establishment\u2019s owner figured having a beautiful cat there who was friendly to the girls could help keep harmony. While Lucy Fur welcomed the attention of the dancers, she hissed at any male employee trying to pet her, inspiring the club owner to provide her name.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After speaking with the bouncer who opened the back door, Forsythia soon entered the large dancers\u2019 dressing room carrying her cat. On one side of the room were the mirrors where the young ladies fixed their makeup, hair, nails, and costumes. On the other side stood their lockers. A couch sat against the back wall with a small table and a couple of chairs in front of it. A few girls spoke to Forsythia while others looked at her and turned away. Though against the rules, several women smoked cigarettes, and Forsythia smelled marijuana as well. Loud music echoed behind the mirrors, punctuated by the disc jockey announcing the on-stage arrival of a new dancer.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHey there, girl.\u201d Mozelle Jackson smiled and motioned for Miss Farmer to sit at the mirror by hers. Mozelle was the closest thing to a friend that Forsythia had at the club. She was a very attractive Jamaican immigrant who always appeared upbeat and, like Forsythia, was one of the few dancers there who neither smoked, drank, nor did drugs. She, too, had a baby to rear on her own and focused on making as much money as possible at the club, having no interest in socializing, finding a sugar daddy, or getting high. She and Miss Farmer were held at arm\u2019s length by many younger dancers. This only strengthened their bond.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHow goes it, gorgeous?\u201d Miss Jackson asked.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, just doing the do.\u201d Forsythia shrugged as she pulled out her makeup.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMozelle, tell her your brother\u2019s story about his recent ambulance run,\u201d Gabriella Grahame remarked with a grin as a few other ladies chuckled.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWell,\u201d began Mozelle, \u201cyou know my brother\u2019s an EMT, and he told me about an ambulance run last week involving some boys over-inflating a car tire that blew up, causing pieces of rubber to go everywhere, including all over their grandma.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, the poor thing,\u201d Forsythia exclaimed. \u201cIs she all right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYeah,\u201d Mozelle answered. \u201cBut when she was in the ambulance and Anthony had finished examining her, she took his hand and said, \u201cHoney, I got just one question. Now tell me true, shug. Did it hit my cooter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Several dancers erupted in laughter, and Forsythia could not help giggling.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWell, did it?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo, her cooter\u2019s rubber-free,\u201d Mozelle replied.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019re up in five, Syth,\u201d a bouncer announced poking his head through the door. Forsythia finished applying her makeup and quickly changed into her magenta pink bikini and high heels.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cBlow \u2019em away, babe.\u201d Mozelle smiled.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Miss Farmer ran down the hall to stand behind the curtain facing the center of three elevated catwalks down which dancers would parade. The music was now quite loud, alternating between top forty rock, rap, and disco, depending on the requests of the top dancers who occupied the most lucrative \u201cCatwalk #2.\u201d Some dancers thought Forsythia was \u201cweird\u201d for asking the D.J. to play her favorite alternative rock songs. A few secretly complained to the club owner that such obscure tunes inhibited tipping and that only the most popular hits should be blared out of the loudspeakers. But the owner liked Miss Farmer for bringing in more customers, always being professional and polite, and never causing him trouble with drink or drugs. So her eclectic musical tastes were respected.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As she played with her hair and stretched in anticipation of being announced, the club owner walked behind her.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cGet after it, babe!\u201d he exclaimed and she smiled at him. Though she had heard stories that he had taken advantage of a few girls and was involved with illegal drugs, Forsythia had no complaints about him. She also knew she was older and more willing to stand up for herself than most of her colleagues.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When the opening drum riff from The Cure\u2019s \u201cJust Like Heaven\u201d was heard, the D.J. shouted, \u201cAnd now feast your eyes on Catwalk #2 for the delightfully delovely Domino Double-D Dean!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Forsythia put on what she called \u201cthe face\u201d \u2013 a coquettish smile \u2013 and jumped through the curtain to be greeted by a kaleidoscope of colorful spotlights as she gyrated to the music. Many patrons applauded her and some left the bar to sit alongside the middle catwalk for a closer inspection.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 At the sight of many regular customers who liked to tip her, Forsythia\u2019s smile turned into a genuine grin with frequent winks. Whenever she recognized someone who had not tipped her before, she ignored him. Soon her fans approached the stage with ten- and twenty-dollar bills to put in the garter belt adorning her left leg. She thanked them and sometimes patted their faces.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When a nerdy-looking thirty-five-year-old sitting alone came to the edge of the stage to place a twenty-dollar bill in her garter, Miss Farmer recognized him as one of her most loyal fans and patted his cheek. When he tried to speak above the booming music, she leaned forward to hear him stammer.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou look \u2026 really great, Domino,\u201d he managed to get out with some effort. She thanked him and wondered if he had ever kissed a girl.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As she began teasing the audience by playing with her skimpy bikini top, several men shouted for her to remove it, prompting her to flash \u201cthe laugh,\u201d as she called it, a simulated laugh produceable under most any circumstances.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When she removed her top, there was a roar from the audience and more men of all ages went to the stage to place more tips in her garter belt, including one of her favorites, an older man who always tipped her and was charmingly polite.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat would you say to marrying a rich retired businessman?\u201d He smiled.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOne voyage on the Sea of Matrimony is enough,\u201d she answered before thanking him and patting his cheek.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As she moved down the catwalk, the music changed to the Psychedelic Furs\u2019 \u201cPretty in Pink,\u201d and she adjusted her dancing to accommodate the new beat while teasing the audience with removing her pink bikini bottom. When she tossed it to the floor, another round of applause went up, followed by a fresh number of tippers, some of whom had tipped her minutes before.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When she finished her set on stage, Forsythia walked from table to table soliciting lap and table dances. Soon a group of out-of-town businessmen took up her offer of the latter. With \u201cthe face\u201d intact, Miss Farmer danced for them, carefully gauging their expressions to see which moves seemed to excite the most interest. The middle-aged men at the table eyed her intently, a few with smiles, and one occasionally chuckling and looking at his colleagues. After getting a tableful of applause, compliments, and cash, Forsythia slipped back into her bikini and resumed the search for more customers.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then a determined middle-aged woman on a mission and her distinctly uncomfortable husband approached Forsythia. Seeing the very concerned look on the lady\u2019s face and no dollar bills in her hand, Miss Farmer calculated behind her frozen smile that there could be trouble. After quickly looking around and seeing a pair of large bouncers nearby, she smiled broadly at the woman and said \u201cHey.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHello, Miss,\u201d the lady got out before hesitating amidst the loud music. \u201cYoung lady, you just look so sweet, and I\u2019m really concerned about you working in a place like this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSo why are you patronizing \u2018a place like this\u2019?\u201d a still-smiling Forsythia asked under a wrinkled brow. \u201cEspecially since you had to pay a cover charge just to get in here. You know, to subsidize this \u2018place\u2019?\u201d She failed to stifle a slight giggle.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLord knows, I sure didn\u2019t want to.\u201d The woman sighed. \u201cBut I just didn\u2019t know how else to speak with the girls working here.\u201d
\n\u201c\u2018The girls working here\u2019 are quite aware of what kind of place this is. I bet they know it a lot better than you do,\u201d Forsythia replied.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI just can\u2019t imagine why a nice, well-spoken gal like you would want to work here,\u201d the woman insisted. \u201cIt\u2019s just not healthy. I can\u2019t imagine working here. But, of course, I\u2019m a mother. Anyway, I\u2019m just here to tell you that you don\u2019t have to do this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLiberate your mind and the body always follows,\u201d Miss Farmer retorted with a faint smile. \u201cAnd I imagine you don\u2019t know remotely all the reasons why gals like me work here. I\u2019m a mother too, which is a big reason why I choose to work here to provide for my son, especially since I don\u2019t have a husband to provide for us.\u201d She pointedly looked at the woman\u2019s husband.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Frustrated, the woman turned to her spouse who stared firmly at the floor.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI just want you to come outside with us so we can discuss a future for you without all this,\u201d the woman looked around in exasperation.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo \u2018Please.\u2019 No \u2018Thanks.\u2019 No dice,\u201d Miss Farmer answered. \u201cMaybe I should appreciate your concern but I don\u2019t think you know much about me or this place, and I doubt it would matter to you anyway. And since I\u2019ve got a baby to feed, I\u2019m getting back to work.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWell, I just can\u2019t sit by idly and watch someone destroy herself,\u201d the woman proclaimed with her head now raised. \u201cHow long\u2019s it been since you had a really serious conversation about your eternity?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cAnd how long\u2019s it been since you had a really seriously satisfying bowel movement?\u201d Forsythia replied with the face firmly intact.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 When the woman frowned and began to respond, a bouncer told her to leave Miss Farmer alone. As Forsythia mouthed \u201cThanks\u201d to him, the woman\u2019s husband leaned over to the dancer.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019m right sorry \u2019bout this, Miss. She\u2019s got some snakes in the head but she\u2019s all right. She does mean well. She\u2019s just a Baptist.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo problem, honey,\u201d Forsythia replied and patted his shoulder before moving to the next table.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 As the couple turned to walk back to their table, the wife almost bumped into a topless dancer. Apologizing, the older lady could not help but notice the younger one\u2019s large bare breasts. Tattooed on the left one were the words, \u201cDizzy Ray Hollister,\u201d and inked below the right nipple were the words, \u201cwas here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhatever you do,\u201d the young lady said leaning forward in a teasing tone, \u201cdon\u2019t ever put nobody\u2019s name on your taters.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Forsythia continued to hawk lap and table dances and was having a lucrative shift. Since it was Friday night, there were several groups of men on out-of-town business trips eager to get a table dance, and tonight there were many generous tippers<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhat kinds of guys are the best tippers?\u201d one young customer asked after she collected her tips from a table dance.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe nice ones,\u201d was the prompt reply.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The next table had three local male graduate students meticulously grading the beauty and sexiness of each dancer. Realizing the students were hardly lucrative prospects, Forsythia asked in a pro forma manner if they wanted a table or lap dance. When they politely declined, she quickly moved on her way.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 One of the young men looked at his friends and expressed regret that they missed out on a table dance \u201cfrom the hottest chick in this whole place.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOh, come off it, man. If a few minutes of staring at strippers makes you a beauty expert, then I\u2019m a gynecologist,\u201d one friend replied.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYeah, if you\u2019re so into her, go ask her for a lap dance, man,\u201d volunteered his other buddy. \u201cIn fact, why not ask her out? You\u2019re decent enough looking, and far closer to her age than most guys in here. Tell her how in a few years you\u2019ll be making big money as an engineer \u2013 which is true. Besides, you\u2019re the one complaining about being dumped last month and how long it\u2019s been since you got laid. Well, here\u2019s your chance. Go for it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI guess I\u2019m just not hungry enough yet,\u201d the first friend answered. \u201cOr I\u2019m too insecure to ask. I don\u2019t cotton to getting more rejection.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Having stopped by every table in the club, as well as seeing if anyone at the bar wanted a lap dance, Forsythia left the crowd, noise, and flashing lights to return to the dressing room for a quick break and to check on her cat. Upon entering the room, she smiled at a couple of girls petting Lucy Fur who rested contentedly in front of a brightly-lit mirror.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Turned off by the smell of a lot more marijuana, Miss Farmer noticed three dancers seated on the sofa taking turns using a rolled twenty-dollar bill to snort cocaine on the small table. After years of breaking his parents\u2019 hearts, Forsythia\u2019s brother had recently done a stint in rehab for cocaine addiction, and a dancer who had been a mentor to Miss Farmer and other dancers when she began working at the club had died the previous month of an overdose of cocaine and heroin. She was another single mother. Forsythia stood staring at the young women, surprised they would flout using the very drug that had recently killed their colleague.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWant a little bump, babe?\u201d one girl asked with a smile as her two friends chuckled.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo, and I strongly suggest y\u2019all go real easy with that marching powder,\u201d Forsythia replied.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Sorely tempted to criticize them and remind them of the other dancer\u2019s death, she realized they already knew. She sat down in front of a mirror to see a troubled and tense face staring back. The dancers on the sofa laughed loudly and Forsythia noted how several more girls entered the dressing room and no one appeared to notice all the drugs about.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Two mirrors down, she saw one of the youngest dancers who she failed to recognize at first before realizing that she had mentored the young lady when she was hired a year ago. Though not twenty, Miss Farmer was struck by how much the girl had already aged. Gone was the spark that had initially drawn Forsythia to her.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Lucy Fur jumped into Miss Farmer\u2019s lap, and Forsythia felt as if the two of them were an island in rough seas. As she petted the cat, a bouncer put his head through the door.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe boss wants you back on the floor, Syth,\u201d he announced. When she did not reply, he spoke again.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSyth, you hear me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYeah\u2026. Thanks,\u201d she replied with a weak smile, but remained seated to look at the tired lady in the mirror. Thoughts of her brother and the dead dancer continued to preoccupy her as the dressing room got ever louder with more girls arriving for the late-night shift.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Despite the din, Forsythia dwelled on how much she enjoyed her pre-law classes, especially regarding free expression issues. It was fun participating in class discussions, and she dared dream of becoming an attorney. She sighed knowing she still had another year of college and then three more in law school, but she almost smiled at the thought of her arguing a case in court. Though still facing the mirror, she no longer noticed herself.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Slowly but resolutely, she changed into her regular clothes, stood up, tossed her bikini on the makeup table, and left the room. As all the dancers did when clocking out, she went around the main floor tipping the bouncers, bartenders, barmaids, and disc jockey. This time she hugged several and kissed a couple. A few asked if she was okay, and she said she just had to go. After picking up Lucy Fur in the dressing room, she started walking down the hall to the rear exit. As she passed the club owner\u2019s office, he saw her through the open door and called out.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSyth! What\u2019s up, babe? Your shift\u2019s not remotely done. You all right? Something wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Forsythia looked in his office where he sat behind a large desk, on the other side of which sat several beefy middle-aged men in loud suits whom she did not recognize.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI just have to go,\u201d she stated above the loud music echoing from the other side of the hallway.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSyth, I don\u2019t want a scene, but if you want to keep working here, you need to get back out on that floor and finish your shift,\u201d he said evenly.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI know. I got no beef with you, but I just have to leave.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNow, Syth, I like you \u2013 a lot \u2013 and if somebody\u2019s done something or said something to you, I want to know so we can fix this. You\u2019re a great earner, and a real sweet gal too. I don\u2019t want to lose you. But if you can\u2019t explain this, in fairness to all the other girls I\u2019ve fired for a lot less, I\u2019m gone\u2019 have to let you go. Before you walk out that door, ask yourself. Can you really afford to turn your back on all this easy money?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Forsythia acknowledged that she had never made remotely as much money elsewhere and felt some butterflies launch in her stomach. At least for the next few years, no other job would let her earn anywhere nearly as much or choose her own hours. But she reminded herself that she now had some savings and could surely get work waitressing or bartending. She also kept seeing her brother and the dead dancer, and she felt an intense pang of loneliness that frightened her. Then she saw her little boy eagerly running into her arms as she returned home. She looked up from the floor at her former employer.<\/p>\n
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI can afford it and justify it. Best wishes always.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
by Douglas Young \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That evening Forsythia Farmer turned into the parking lot of Gator Tales, the state\u2019s largest strip club, to park by the private back entrance manned by a large, intimidating bouncer. Despite being one of the club\u2019s most popular attractions, the dancer known as Domino Double-D Dean still drove a fifteen-year-old car […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1800,77],"tags":[1565,1801,1123],"class_list":["post-15853","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-egophobia-86","category-english","tag-douglas-young","tag-egophobia-86","tag-english"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DakB-47H","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15853","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=15853"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15853\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15875,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15853\/revisions\/15875"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=15853"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=15853"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/egophobia.ro\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=15853"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}