When I arrived back in the city after the disastrous trip with my sugar daddy, Marco, I started looking at pricing for apartments, ratings for neighborhoods, and for a job. I decided if independent was what Marco wanted, then fine, I’d give him what he wants. In my searches, I met a young woman named Kate. Kate would eventually introduce me to the world of modeling, among many other things. She was a petite blonde who was kind, sweet, and funny. She was also one of the few people who didn’t judge me. Instead, she became my friend and told me things like, “Stop dating down,” and, “You deserve so much better than this.” Kate encouraged me to try working, so that’s what I did.
My first job was at a small diner. I lasted three days before I quit; it happened after watching a server sneeze into her hands and then reach her unwashed, ungloved hand into a bucket of salad for a customer. “I knew you wouldn’t make it,” Marco scoffed as I arrived home after quitting.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find another job,” I said sharply as I turned and walked back out of the house. I went to the local grocery store and applied for a job as a cashier. They hired me on the spot, but I was bored to death. To say that the job was mentally stimulating would be a huge overreach. After two weeks on the job, I decided to take a drive instead of showing up for work one day. Marco wouldn’t necessarily know; he was still technically paying for everything at this point, so I figured, why not?
I drove to a part of town I’d never ventured into before. There were mainly strip clubs and bars; it was a shady part of town, but I figured this could be interesting. I walked into a club shortly after nine o’clock on a Friday night. I could smell the cheap perfume and cigarette smoke before opening the door and started to turn around to leave, but just then the bouncer opened the door. “$10 cover and your ID please,” he said. “Oh, I wasn’t here to watch. Are you hiring for bartenders?” I asked naively. “C’mon inside, miss,” he said with a smile.
As I walked into this bar, there were mirrors everywhere, the lights were down very low, and the spotlights were different shades of red and green. The black and white checkered pattern of the stages shined brightly under the black lights, and the place was packed. There were two TVs on sports channels, an ATM, and two electronic casino games. This club wasn’t big, but they worked the space surprisingly well.
“Yo, Tony! Fresh meat!” the bouncer yelled across the room to a short, slightly overweight man. Nearly every man in the room turned to look at me; I was horrified and felt completely out of place. Tony made his way over to me and introduced himself as the manager. He started rattling off fees for the stage, the DJ, and the bartender so fast it made my head spin. “I think you have the wrong idea. I was asking if you were hiring for a bartender,” I said, trying to talk over the loud music.
“Oh, well why didn’t you say so, honey? You’ll make a lot more money dancing though. We have rules in place that the guys have to follow and you’ll be protected either way, but it’s up to you.”
I have to admit, I was definitely intrigued…