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“Dad, I know you’ll help me out financially while I look for a new place, but …” I stammered.
“But what honey?” asked Frank reasonably. “What’s wrong? Is it about Mason? Just ignore him, because this scandal isn’t your business,” he said firmly.
“Well, it’s not just that,” I hedged. “I mean, it is, but it isn’t, you know what I mean?”
My dad chuckled.
“Honey, you’re speaking in riddles. What are you trying to say? I know you probably have some savings, but there’s no need to tap that because I’ll help. We all know that Mason doesn’t have a transgender girlfriend, or at least I don’t think he does. Or do you think he’s trying to tell us something?”
I could practically hear the puzzlement in my dad’s voice. Frank is an open-minded guy, but he still gets confused about these things because he’s from a different generation. Little did my dad know, but my problems don’t stem from that. If I was going to come clean, I might as well start with the smaller stuff first.
“Dad,” I began tentatively. “It’s not about Mason’s money. I mean, it is, but I have my own money too.”
“Honey, I know your dance troupe puts on performances and sells tickets,” replied my dad. “I know you get a stipend too. Paula and I were so proud of you at that last concert. What was it called again? Diamond Intensity? Honey, you were amazing, and everything about it was extraordinary, from the choreography to your costumes and movement.”
“Dad, Dad, Dad,” I interrupted. “Wait a minute. Yes, that’s part of it. I mean, I dance, but I don’t just do modern dance. I dance, dance.”
Frank was puzzled.
“Of course you dance, honey. That’s what you do.”
I sighed.
“No, I dance as in I take off my clothes for money,” I rushed. “I need the extra cash, so I started working on the side.”
But my dad was still going on about how incredible our last concert had been, so I had to interrupt again.
“Dad,” I said firmly. “I dance for dollars. I take off my clothes for men, and they pay me to do it at a place in Midtown called the Donkey Club. I know this isn’t easy for you to hear, but I want to be honest.”
Silence. There was absolute silence for about thirty seconds, and my heart pounded as it seemed to stretch on for ages.
“The Donkey Club?” came my Dad’s disbelieving tone. I’d never heard him so astonished.
“The Donkey Club,” I said firmly and slowly. “It’s a gentleman’s club, or more accurately, a strip joint. It’s legit, they’ve got all their licenses and I make good money,” I said. “I’m able to support myself even without Mason’s financial assistance.”
I could hear my dad take a big breath over the phone and then exhale slowly. It couldn’t be easy to hear that your only daughter was a stripper who showed off her God-given assets for dollars. But it was the truth, and I was tired of beating around the bush.
Finally, Frank spoke.
“Does it make you happy?” he asked slowly. “Or are you just doing it to pay the bills?”
How do I answer a question like that? The truth is that I loved taking my clothes off for men because I love the power I have over them. I adore the lustful looks, the slack jaws, and the adoration that greeted me when I shimmied on stage. But that was too much information, and no father should be subjected to a truth like that. So I just swallowed and spoke in generalities.
“Yeah Daddy, I like it,” I said quietly, my eyes downcast. “It’s more than just a job.”
Another silence ensued, but then Frank surprised me.
“Well honey, as long as you enjoy it and it’s legal, then you have my support,” he rumbled into the phone, his voice resolute. “I’m proud of my daughter no matter what she does, and I won’t let anyone tell me otherwise.”
Of course, that’s because Frank didn’t know that I used to sleep with my clients sometimes, and that I’d get a “gift” for taking a man deep. But I was overjoyed that Frank hadn’t freaked out.
“Thanks so much,” I said quietly with a smile on my face, “that means a lot to me.”
Silence again and then my dad harrumphed.
“Well, if that’s all, then moving out from Mason’s place will be no big deal,” he said with fake cheer. “You won’t need my financial support at all because dancers make double what I do, from what the boys tell me.”
But again, my father didn’t know the whole truth.
“Frank,” I said slowly. “Moving out is a bigger deal than you think because I’ve been seeing Mason. We’ve been dating, Daddy, like a real couple. Plus,” I said after inhaling quickly, “I’m pregnant with his child.”
This time the silence was really, really long. So long in fact, that I had time to feel the dread permeate my lungs and seep to my fingertips. Oh shit. Nothing good could come of this.
