Nudity For Fun and Profit Chapter Seven: Stage Name

I find my pants immediately, draped over the chair I sat in while the girls were putting makeup on me. I have to hunt harder for my blouse. After searching under several large knapsacks, I finally locate it. As I’m putting it on, I feel a mysterious wetness on one side. I touch the stain and then I sniff it. It’s beer.

I groan. This was one of the best blouses I’d ever owned – a frilly silk Diane von Furstenberg. I’m still paying off the balance on my Bloomingdale’s credit card from when I bought it. And now it’s ruined.

Blonde Number Two comes up softly behind me. “You doin’ all right there, hon?” she asks.

I exhale through the corners of my mouth and stare at her. If I was tipsy before, I’m certainly sober now.

“We didn’t really mean nothin’, you know,” she continues. “It was a joke. It wasn’t supposed to go that far. I thought we were only bringin’ you up and out on the floor and then that was the end of it.”

“Is that right,” I mumble, a statement rather than a question.

She spits her gum into a bar napkin and tosses it into the wastebasket. “You dance good. Most girls been workin’ here for years and still can’t do any of that stuff you did on the pole. You ever strip before?”

I laugh. “Do I look like a stripper to you?”

She frowns. “Well, I don’t know what you’re tryin’ to say, but you looked like one out there. How much money did you make?”

“Forty-two bucks,” I tell her.

She unwraps another stick of gum and pops it into her mouth. “That’s good money for one set. Most of the customers don’t like to give you more than a dollar apiece when you’re up on stage. They save the rest for lap dances and whatnot.”

I shrug and button up my coat. “It’ll pay part of the Con Ed, I guess.”

“Yeah, huh?” she says. “So then that’s part of the Con Ed that you just made in ten minutes. Good for you.”

“Thanks.”

“You gonna work here?”

“Are you kidding?”

She blows a bubble. “No, I’m not. Tim upstairs, you know, he saw the whole thing. He thinks you’re fantastic! He says he wants to hire you. That’s what I came down here to tell you.”

“Which one was he?” I ask. “The one trying to beat me up with his cane? Or the guy who was hoping to see me fall on my face?”

“I can take you to him.”

I chuckle again despite myself. “Okay, look, you know what? It was pretty funny. I’ll give you that. But now the joke’s over. Haven’t you and your pals had enough for one night?”

“Hey, I said I was sorry.”

“No, actually. No. You didn’t.” I start to walk up the stairs. “Have a pleasant evening… what’s your name again? Sparkle? Sunshine?”

“Sara.”

“Right. Later, Sara.”

I open the door, put my head down, and try my best to slink out of the club unnoticed. I get as far as the second barstool. A man with white hair and a big belly turns around on the stool and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart, where you going? You gotta show me some sort of I.D. before you come back, you know,” he says.

I stop walking and look at him. “Excuse me?”

“I.D. Ever heard of it? Your driver’s license, maybe. So’s we know you’re legal.”

“Uh huh.” He must be in on the joke. What the hell, I’ll play along too. “How about tomorrow. First thing.”

Of course I have my license with me. And there’s no way I’m ever setting foot in this dump again. So there’s no reason for me to show it to him.

The beer-bellied man shakes his head. “We’re closed on Sundays. But I can put you on for… let’s see… Monday night, if you want to work right away.” He pulls a pen from behind his ear and starts rifling through several sheets of paper on a clipboard. “What do you want your name to be? Most girls don’t use their real name here. Of course if you want to, that’s up to you.”

 “Nadia.”

It’s the first name that pops into my head. When I was a little kid, I idolized two Olympic gymnasts. But the name Mary Lou isn’t really all that exotic.

“All right, Nadia. See you on Monday. Be here at seven-thirty. I need all my girls dressed and on the floor by eight o’clock sharp. No exceptions. You got that?”

I grin sarcastically. “I’ll be here with bells on.”

Do me a favor. Hold your breath.

“If you wanna wear bells, be my guest, just so long as you’re also here with shoes on.”

“What?”

“Shoes, Nadia. We wear shoes in here.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

Outside on the street, I wait until I’ve rounded the corner, and then I laugh so hard that I have to bend over and hold my stomach. Did I just crawl back up the rabbit hole or what? Those people are insane.

Heloise is going to love this story.

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