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It had been two months since she received the eviction notice and she’d managed to pack a couple of large suitcases of clothes and personal items, some keepsakes that had belonged to her parents and what few pieces of her Gran’s which held sentimental value and hadn’t been tagged for sale along with the house. Those mostly consisted of photograph albums, ancient cookbooks and her Gran’s own scrapbooks full of recipes and household tips.
In the end all that was left was a savings account Gran had set up in Ellie’s name with just over a thousand dollars in it and the small car which was registered as her own, even though Gran had paid for it. The same car that she’d been sleeping in for the last four weeks.
If she was lucky, there might be something left over when all the loose ends were tied up, but Ellie didn’t hold out much hope for anything substantial. Whatever wasn’t poured into the medical fee’s would undoubtedly be gobbled up by the legal costs.
But things were getting more and more precarious. Initially, she’d continued to park the car in the driveway of Gran's house; gaining some small amount of comfort from being close by. She’d even kept herself busy in between job hunting by weeding the garden and caring for the flowers and veggies her Gran had been so proud of.
Then, two weeks ago, new people moved in and she’d been forced to find somewhere else to hole up. She tried to keep out of sight, but it wasn’t so easy. She’d been moved on more than oncebecause of complaints that her car appeared abandoned or because people didn’t want someone who was homeless parked too close that it might affect their trade or prickle their conscience and sheknew the police were starting to recognize her vehicle. That didn’t bode well.
Morning came, and the idea of repeating yesterday all over again, just like the day before, and no doubt tomorrow too, was beginning to wear her down. She ended up doing something that she would never have imagined in a million years.
“You’re a bit skinny,” said the bald, tattooed owner of ‘The Strip Joint’.
The club might be unimaginatively named and only a few steps up from a complete dive, but he was no less critical.
Ellie could feel the color rising in her cheeks as he gave her the once over is some windowless backroom that seemed to double as both storage and a changing room.
“Tall though, dudes like that. Good hair,” he muttered, almost to himself as he invaded her personal boundaries and released her plait. She tried not to cringe. She was twenty-six years old, not some shy virgin… not quite, anyway.
So her experience was limited to one half-hearted college boyfriend and then fizzled to nothing during the years she’d cared for Gran, but she knew what was what. And she read a lot.
It was true much of her practical understanding had been gained vicariously through books, but it was an education of sorts.
“Right, strip off and let’s see the goods,” the guy demanded, and Ellie felt her mind go blank. The only thing that rang loud and clear in her head was Gran saying, ‘You know that’s a sin now, don’t you?’
Seriously? Maybe she hadn’t thought this through. She certainly hadn’t considered that this might be part of the interview. But then again, she wasn’t at all sure what she had imagined.
“I haven’t got all day doll. You gotta problem with this, then what the hell you doin’ here?”
Ellie scrambled to undress, her whole face feeling like it was fire-engine red and Gran's voice ringing in her ears. There was no grace or seduction in her actions and, when she was down to her underwear, she felt another tide of embarrassment wash over her when she considered her old, plain cotton bra and boy shorts.
She sucked in a shocked breath when tattoo man, whose name she thought was Frank, slapped her ass and followed it up by grabbing and squeezing one of her breasts.
“Meh, bit lacking in the tittie department. Most of our clients like a lot more upstairs.” As he said it, he stretched his fingers wide in front of his own chest and crudely mimicked a large pair of breasts.
“Ass is a bit flat too, but I guess it’s in keeping with the rest o’ you. We got some who like ‘em thin. Always good to have variety.”
Ellie felt like a piece of meat. A prickly heat had risen up her neck and she had to force herself not to clench her hands into fists.
“Let’s see if you got moves.”
“Moves?” she repeated blankly.
He nodded his head and spat the gum he was chewing in a nearby trashcan. Ellie tried not to focus on the glob of spit that now dribbled down the side. “You can call it an audition,” he said, pointing to the stage area where a lone pole glinted dully, picked out by a spotlight in the gloom.
She followed him tentatively around the back and through some heavy, dusty drapes where Frank pressed a button that immediately had ear-splittingly loud heavy rock music thundering through a wall of speakers.
Ellie jumped and moved away. Too bad Frank mistook that for enthusiasm and gestured for her to continue while he tapped his foot in time to the thumping beat.
Dear heaven, what was she supposed to do? Did he want her to take the rest of her clothes off or just dance? And what about this pole?
She moved her feet hesitantly and tried not to look out at the few unsavory looking characters who already sat drinking at a couple of the front row tables. Closing her eyes, she attempted to capture the beat in her mind and bind her movements to it.
“Shake that ass, doll,” someone shouted. It might even have been Frank. And really, it wasn’t like she couldn’t dance, it was just that there was no real melody to follow. This was more your ‘pump and grind’ kind of music, which she guessed was probably the point. Suddenly that pole was looking more and more practical. At least it would give her something to hold onto.
She did her best, she really did. She’d come here specifically looking for a job after all. A hip bop to the left and then right. What she hoped was a sexy ass jiggle but wasn’t wholly convinced from what she could see in the surrounding mirrors that threw her reflection everywhere. The bendy knee thing and raised arms. Thank goodness she’d attempted to shave her armpits that morning and not let things go.
Grabbing the pole, she swung around it, and threw her head back, allowing her hair to cascade down to her ass cheeks in what may or may not have come off as a coy but sultry move.
