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Those Are My Boobs
“Ihatethatthesewill be undone after the second round of handwashing dishes,” Amanda says, admiring her new fingernails. She chose a black base with white and pink polka dots. The nail technician even put a top coat on that will glow under the black light.
“We should get a dishwasher,” I say, remembering how it was to keep up with dishes from a family of six.
The three of them cackle in mockery.
“Yeah,” Amanda says, still chuckling. “And a Mercedes while we’re out shopping.”
“But we have money to get our nails done,” I counter. “Why not just save it and get a dishwasher instead.”
Megan sits up straighter as the nail tech who’s working on her nails gets up to grab the polish. “Listen, love. We love you, but you know we couldn’t step foot in that club without looking our absolute best.”
“Remember when Geani showed up without her nails done?” Alaska asks, leaning forward from her table down the row to be included in the conversation.
I shake my head. “Who is Geani?”
The three of them cackle again.
Megan tilts her head at me. “I know we hate her, but at least acknowledge her existence when we’re using her to make a point.”
I make a mental note to pay more attention to the girls at the club and figure out which one is Geani. Apparently I hate her.
“If Dee is done making jokes about all the money we supposedly have,” Amanda begins, holding her fingers high in the air, “I’m heading over to my pedicure chair.”
She leaves her purse hanging on her chair and the nail technician grabs it and follows her over to the pedicure area.
“Such a diva,” Megan grunts once Amanda’s out of ear shot.
I clear my throat, knowing I’m about to get glared at. “So, we really can’t get a dishwasher?”
After an hour of having my nails filed and filled with fresh acrylic, my toes pampered and my legs massaged; we’re off to the clothing store to get some new outfits for our shift at the club tonight.
I dropped the topic of additional appliances in the house after I learned that we also take our clothes to the laundromat since we don’t have a washer and dryer in our apartment.
My heart was thumping the whole way through the manicure and pedicure. As if I didn’t feel out of place enough, I also felt like I should have been somewhere else doing something for the kids. Every few seconds, I felt like my phone was going to go off with a text from Nick asking where I was and why the house was wrecked.
But it didn’t happen. That’s not my life anymore. For whatever reason, I woke up in the life of a stripper who has a bit of spending money and some super hot friends. No kids. No husband. No stress of keeping a house clean.
And I’m stacked.
My abs are tight and my skin is glowing. I have piercings and tattoos that IknowNick would never approve of. I’m living the life of those girls I read about in trashy novels. And I have to admit, it’s not too shabby.
“This one would make your ass look smokin’,” Megan says as she hands me a piece of red fabric. Her green eyes are twinkling with enthusiasm as she watches my reaction.
It’s shimmery and has a tag hanging from it, containing the perfect number of zeros to have my eyes bulging. But she doesn’t seem to be phased by the price, so I try to ignore it as well. Even after all the talk about not being able to afford a dishwasher.
Maybe we aren’t hurting in all areas. Just the ones that don’t seem to phase us. I guess I did notice a bunch of paper plates laying around the living room. Maybe they just use those instead of having to worry about dishes.
I take the body suit from Megan and examine it. Holding it up for the others to see, I say, “Daaaaamn,” in my best non-mom-Dee voice. I think I’m getting back to being the girl that these three women were used to. The girl that had self-esteem and wasn’t afraid to have a little fun. A complete one-eighty from what I am in my real life.
Or at least I’m trying.
The fabric is a bit scratchy when it touches my bare stomach as I hold it up and look in the mirror. When I see myself in the reflection, my eyes go directly past the bodysuit and land on my face.
I look happy. I look like I’m having the time of my life.
My nails are done and my body is tight enough to look smoking hot in the crop top that I’m wearing. Tight spandex pants are showing off my perfect ass, and my black and red hair is falling down over my tan shoulders.
