Servicing the Pole
I serialized my novel Servicing the Pole on my site in full over 52 weeks in 2008 and 2009. Start reading at Prologue - Birthday Suit. I’ve also added some notes about this project.
Table of Contents
Prologue – Birthday Suit
“Aw, come on,” I sigh. Too much of my own personality bleeds into my voice. I loathe myself – I’m losing control. I’m putting the mind behind the body onto the auction block. This is the biggest gaffe you can make. If you allow it to get personal, you’ll surrender yourself in the transaction every time.
Read the rest of “Prologue – Birthday Suit”
ONE
I wish some of these men could know what it’s really like to see us naked. Real, like this… shivering, stinking, before all of the elaborate preparation. Before we slip into our costumes, we wake up human, the same way they do – with fuzz on our teeth and oil on our skin.
TWO
I almost have to admire a girl like Sloane. She makes a lot of money because she has made an absolute commitment to her path, and never questions it.
She’s not on the fence, trying to piece her way through murky morality. She clearly abandoned that a long time ago. She is free of it.
This makes her less of a hypocrite than the rest of us.
THREE
“Do you have a tip for me?” she croons to my customer, who has told me that his name is Bob. He gives her an extra dollar.
“You guys have quite a racket going on here,” he says, turning to look at me.
“The club does.” I hate it when they imply that management and I are in cahoots. We’re not even on the same side. “I just work here.”
FOUR
I was supposed to be a rock star.
As a little girl, I dreamt often of being on stage – clad in sequins and singing my heart out for an audience.
I could never have imagined that someday my stage would be an auction block where I would advertise myself as meat for gaggles of lecherous men.
FIVE
If I thought Prep School had a soul, then I might feel guilty about hustling him. But now I don’t have any qualms about getting whatever I can.
It’s kind of funny. He’s a composite – he’s what I was supposed to grow up to be. Far from the parody I just handed him, my background was suburban and upper middle class. We’re closer to the same side of the white picket fence than he knows. Does he have any sisters? I wonder where they are tonight.
SIX
He looks at me with suppressed rage. “You think if you don’t try, you can’t fail? What is it, huh? What are you so afraid of, Little Miss Thing?”
“Your clichés,” I shoot back.
SEVEN
He’s still tipping, but the groping is getting progressively worse. During the third song, he boldly reaches around and claps his hand over my tit.
EIGHT
“The money is safer with him than it is with me.”
“Safer? What do you mean?”
She coughs out a strange little laugh. “You know,” she says. “I’m really bad with money. I buy lots of stupid shit we don’t need. Anthony holds onto it so I won’t spend it on anything dumb.”
“But it’s your money,” I say.
NINE
“When are you going to clean?” I ask.
“I said that I would do it,” he hisses at me between drags. “Now get off my fucking back!”
“Off your back? You have some goddamned nerve!” I explode. “You are so unbelievably lazy! You do absolutely nothing around here! You’re twice my age and I’m the only one who ever brings in a red cent! You haven’t made a dime since I’ve known you!
TEN
I’m mortified. This guy is putting me on the spot.
But I can’t turn down a good dare. Or the chance to one-up it.
“You want it? You got it,” I shout.
ELEVEN
“That’s all you want? I don’t believe you.”
“Well, I think you don’t really understand the lifestyle so well like you want everyone to think you do,” Mitchell goads me.
“Is that what you think.” It’s a statement, not a question. What he’s doing is calling me chicken.
TWELVE
I’ve never once considered seeing any of these guys outside of the club. But maybe I’m the only one. Maybe these girls who are pulling in a grand a night know something that I don’t.
Tonic tells me an address I’ve never heard. “If you show up, you show up,” he says. “I’ll just pay you for the company, and we’ll do some more blow.”
THIRTEEN
“There aren’t any bars on that street,” says Ginger.
Now all three of them are looking at me suspiciously. What gives, anyway? What do they know about New York?
“Hold on, wait a minute,” Busty says. “My sister told me she once went to a job interview in a bar on East Forty-seventh. She said they didn’t say much in the ad. And then the place turned out to be this really skanky strip club. Is that the bar you work at?”
FOURTEEN
“Filthy slut,” Mitchell whispers to Gia affectionately.
“That’s right, troll. Maybe I’ll fuck you in front of your wife. Make you come while she’s packing her things, and you won’t be able to do shit about it,” Gia returns, and Mitchell’s eyes light up.
I’m beginning to have an inkling of what he’s into. He thrives on mind games and power struggles. This is what turns him on.
FIFTEEN
“You are not shooting up. Do you hear me?”
“What’s the difference?”
“A lot. I will kill any bitch that is stupid enough to put a needle in you. Do we understand each other?”
SIXTEEN
I finish my set, pull my dress over my head and immediately make a beeline for him. I plunk down into his lap as if falling into an easy chair with a good book.
“I hate my father,” he says, in greeting.
“That’s okay. I hate mine, too,” I reply.
For some reason the conversation doesn’t strike me as odd. If this was a movie, everyone except us would be blurry and muted. I feel, inexplicably, like I have known this guy forever.
SEVENTEEN
I suck on her finger, and she brings her face closer to me. We slowly start to kiss. Her tongue tastes like champagne. She pushes it deeply into my mouth, where it does a little dance with mine. She strokes my back soothingly.
“Lou’s a loser,” she says, breaking away. “These men are all the same. Might as well find yourself a rich one. None of them knows how to please a woman.” She softly fondles one of my breasts. “Come home with me.”
EIGHTEEN
“I give up. You’re a born sub,” he finally sighs. “Get back on the bottom or I’m sending you home.”
“That was not the deal,” I protest as I head for the night stand. I snort a line of coke and light a cigarette. I blow smoke in Mitchell’s direction.
“She has to earn her keep,” Mitchell tells me. “Otherwise, what’s the point of me having both of you here?” He turns to Clarissa. “Get on the bed.”
NINETEEN
I remember Clarissa sprawled out on the bed, whimpering, while Mitchell took her without asking. Could I have helped her? I don’t know. But it’s not going to happen again. Not here, not now.
I become crazed with an anger so violent that this time, it can’t be reined in.
And thus, I begin beating the piss out of Ivan. I whale him in the face, full-force, with the chains. He cowers on the floor while I completely lose my shit.
“Fucker. You fucker. You don’t deserve to exist in the same room as me!” I snarl.
“Yes, mistress,” Ivan stutters. He still thinks it’s a game, but both of us are getting way more than we bargained for.
TWENTY
While I dance, I put my face close to his. I look around to make sure no one’s watching, and decide to take my chances. I slide my tongue over his lips and into his mouth. This is the first time I’ve ever kissed a mark. He kisses me back. We suck on each other’s tongues. This isn’t bullshit. We both want to get laid.
The heat between us crackles and spits. Urgently he whispers in his musical accent, “Where can we go?”
I point to the back of the club. “All your friends are back there for a reason,” I explain, smiling wryly.
TWENTY-ONE
“I have twenty grand, baby!” I crow. I start jumping up and down on the bed, watching Barry’s body jolt all over the mattress.
“That’s fantastic,” he says. “You’re one fifth of the way towards an education.”
My face darkens.
STAGE TWO
When I first started stripping, I had a goal.
I thought I could do it for a year, save a hundred grand, and go to music school when I was done.
Somehow, that goal and everything that went with it has slid into a bottomless pit. So slowly at first that I didn’t even notice. But this tumble has acquired the speed of an avalanche. I think I’m still falling. I’m not sure.
TWENTY-TWO
“Okay, so let me ask you another question,” Sean continues. “What do you think of the other characters? The ones in the club. That think they can buy you.”
“They’re supposed to think that,” I explain. “If they didn’t think that, then I wouldn’t have a job.”
“You do realize most of them see right through the whole thing, don’t you?” he wants to know.
TWENTY-THREE
Jose exhales. “This is not the first time that Alannah has tried to leave her crazy boyfriend.”
“So?”
“So, you should stay out of it,” he says.
“I can’t stay out of it. I’m involved now.”
“You’re making a big mistake.”
Read the rest of “TWENTY-THREE”
TWENTY-FOUR
“Some nights I don’t even make tip-out,” she says.
“Why do you still work here?” I want to know.
She’s quiet, changing into her dress.
“I been here for five years,” she finally says. “This is the only job I ever had.”
Read the rest of “TWENTY-FOUR”
TWENTY-FIVE
I sigh. “We are going to need a bodyguard of our own. Someone we don’t have to pay.”
She sits up, and grabs a blanket. “Yeah, mama, I bet they’re just linin’ up around the block.”
“I’ve got one,” I mumble. “Not the situation I’d have picked, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I’m calling Barry, and I’m gonna tell him to come home.”
“Your old man? Didn’t you say he’s the same?”
“No, actually, you were right. Yours is far worse.”
“Congratulations to me,” she mutters.
Read the rest of “TWENTY-FIVE”
TWENTY-SIX
I suspect that this is one more grain from my infinite sand pile of quests for love, acceptance, and family. I wasn’t blessed with the family I would have wanted, ergo, I’ll make my own. Out of other misfits like me. And I guess I’ll also do whatever I must to keep it intact.
TWENTY-SEVEN
“You have to take it now so that I know if you really got off or not.”
“How ‘bout I just give you the three bucks in an hour and then take it at home?”
She grins wickedly. “Three bucks is my special club rate. I want to make sure you have a good time.”
“Nikki?”
“Uh huh?”
“You are,” I say, holding out my hand for the tiny little piece of colored paper, “Totally and completely full of shit, do you know that?”
Nikki cackles. “You’re not going to think so in an hour.”
“Yeah? We’ll see,” I answer, placing the hit under my tongue.
Read the rest of “TWENTY-SEVEN”
TWENTY-EIGHT
We start to wrestle, gasping and laughing. It turns sort of savage, with her pinning my arms, her body pressed against mine. She looks at me dangerously from above. I can’t quite read the expression on her face.
“Stop,” I wheeze. “Uncle…”
“I ain’t yer uncle, missy,” Alannah says. “See, I got tits!” She unbuttons her shirt and sticks them in my face. “How ya like dem apples, eh? Eh?”
She slaps the side of my face with a small, taut breast. I go to bite her.
Instead I take one of her nipples into my mouth.
Read the rest of “TWENTY-EIGHT”
TWENTY-NINE
“What if I have AIDS, Tim?” Alannah moans.
“He’s just lying about it to scare you,” Ronnie says. “Don’t even let him fuck with your head. Just go get tested.”
Read the rest of “TWENTY-NINE”
THIRTY
“You know she has more money than she lets on, don’t you? She’s playing you like a fiddle.”
“Barry, just stop.”
“Hey, I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all. Look how many of these whores have burned you already.”
THIRTY-ONE
“You know, you got some nerve, actin’ like you’re smarter than everyone else – like you know what’s best for anyone. You took me in so you could feel important. That’s the only reason.”
“Is that what you think?” I continue to challenge her, but that last sentence is enough to stop me in my tracks. I’m not sure what takes me farther aback. The epiphany itself, or the fact that it came from Alannah.
“It’s what I know,” she says, tossing her hair so that the new braids shake.
THIRTY-TWO
“Hey,” he addresses me.
“What?” I’m abrupt, already defensive.
“Baby, what you got to be all the way over there for? I’m sayin’ – give me and my peeps some love. We got money.”
My gaze is suspicious. “You can’t just do whatever you want to me for a damned dollar, you know,” I assert.
“How much would that be?” one wiseass pipes up.
THIRTY-THREE
I look down at their cards. She’s A&R for a record label I’ve never heard of. He’s the CEO. “That’s really cool,” I comment. “Is it a fun job?”
“Yeah, I like it,” she answers.
What else is she going to say in front of the boss? I feel silly for asking the question. An A&R rep – of course she likes her job. I clamber back up the pole and do a trick. The three guys clap politely, and throw more money up on the stage.
I should be living in their world, not this one. I wish there was some way that I could let them know I don’t belong here.
Read the rest of “THIRTY-THREE”
THIRTY-FOUR
“You don’t…” I trail off and then begin once more in wonder. “This is never gonna change, is it?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Barry, I’m talking to you.”
“I HEAR YOU!” he explodes, throwing the book across the room. It ricochets off the wall and lands in the middle of the floor with its spine split.
Read the rest of “THIRTY-FOUR”
THIRTY-FIVE
“I don’t know what you want me to say. Except all those things you just told me? Those are the songs we should be writing.”
“Oh, yeah, right. Let’s tell the whole world how easy it is to fuck me over. Let’s write across the sky in giant letters that I’m a victim.”
“You think if bad things happen to you, it automatically means you’re a victim?”
“Honestly? Yeah. That’s what I think.”
Read the rest of “THIRTY-FIVE”
THIRTY-SIX
“This is my least favorite time of year. It’s not like you can make a snow angel in Manhattan.”
“Central Park,” Sharon says brightly as she gets into the car.
“Oh, hell, honey, don’t tell me you’re one of those Pollyanna Silver Lining types.”
Sharon tosses her coat into the backseat of the car and puts on her seatbelt. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her expression. One eyebrow is raised, and she’s smirking.
“Not even close,” she says, peeling off her gloves.
Her track marks aren’t the worst I’ve ever seen. In fact they’re pretty faint. She looks at me as if she expects me to be shocked.
THIRTY-SEVEN
It takes a few tries before I can get her onto her feet. Sharon’s not fat, however, she’s broad. And she’s much heavier than I am. She slumps, but she walks along clinging to me until we get to the middle of the staircase that leads to the main floor. Then she sits down at the landing.
I groan. “Come on, Sharon, don’t do this to me!” I whisper fiercely. “Joy will fire us both!”
Her eyes are pinned, and she’s grinning from ear to ear. I’m not sure she’s even heard me.
Read the rest of “THIRTY-SEVEN”
THIRTY-EIGHT
“You’re right. That’s exactly how it happened,” Willy scoffs.
“I hate you! You’re so nasty and for no reason!”
“This is the pot and the kettle, Sharon.”
“Shut up! You’re talking down to me again!”
The bed shakes as one of them pushes the other into a bedpost. A scuffle begins in earnest. From where we sit, it’s impossible to tell who is doing what to whom. But then the noises gradually shift into another direction, growing rhythmic and regular. I’m shocked to realize that Sharon and Willy have managed to segue effortlessly from fighting into fucking.
Read the rest of “THIRTY-EIGHT”
THIRTY-NINE
As the last chord fades away, my neighbor below pounds on his ceiling for quiet.
I drop to my knees, sweating, exhausted. But more alive than I’ve felt since I can remember. I let the guitar fall from my hands. Its signal feeds back into the amp until I yank the cable out.
Tears run freely down my cheeks. I taste them dripping into the corners of my mouth.
Read the rest of “THIRTY-NINE”
FORTY
“Where are you going?” Sharon sobs. “I’ll go with you. We can go anywhere you want. I made money.”
“I’ll just bet you did,” Willy says.
Sharon leans against Willy. She clutches her arms around his body. He flings up his own arms and pushes her away. She falls backwards, landing on her ass at his feet.
“Just leave me the hell alone!” Willy roars. He storms out of the room and down the hall.
FORTY-ONE
“That poor child.” Sherry clucks her tongue. I look over at her. Her eyes are gleaming. She clearly relishes being the bearer of bad news.
“What happened to her?” I give in and ask.
“Well,” Sherry leans in closer, licking her chops. “You know she’s at The Catwalk now. And you have to see her! I don’t think she weighs more than eighty pounds. She’s just withering away, poor thing.” She pauses, gluing her eyes to my own skinny body and lowering her voice. “The girls say everyone thinks she has AIDS.”
FORTY-TWO
I’m trying not to stare at her face. The scar running all the way down it is long, wide and deep. It looks like someone tried to cut her right in half. And probably that’s exactly the way it went down. Another furtive glance around the well-lit room betrays the hardness these girls all seem to have in common. It doesn’t look like knife fighting is unheard of in their realm.
“Well, if you work hard here, chile, you can make a thousand bucks a night,” she says. “I make crazy money here on the weekends. It be dead out there now – don’t let that fool you. You can clean up in this place fo’ sure.”
I smile, doing what I can to be polite. “It looks a little slow out there,” I mention.
This girl makes a thousand dollars a night?
FORTY-THREE
“I have the best news,” Sharon crows.
“I can’t wait,” I tell her dryly.
“So, I was working at The Velvet Rope, right?”
“Yeah. I heard,” I interject. She misses the sarcasm.
“Now I live on Park Avenue near Fifty-Seventh. And you know what else?”
Far from being happy for her, I’m interested in wrapping up the conversation so that I can attempt sleep once again. I fall silent, waiting for her to continue.
“I’m clean. Thirty-six days today.”
Read the rest of “FORTY-THREE”
FORTY-FOUR
I feel droplets of spittle hit the backs of my legs atop my thigh-high boots. This son of a bitch has some big brass balls to spit back! I whirl around, outraged.
My eyes bug. The bastard sees his future in them. “Wait, wait! NO!” he manages to squawk. Then I’m on him, landing offstage like a cat, butt-naked except for the boots.
His hands fly up to protect his face. I knew he was a coward. I use one hand to wrest an arm away so that my fist can meet his eye. His hat comes off and falls to the floor. He tries to guard his face with the other arm while I land body blows. I grab hair from the back of his head and yank his head back. My right arm comes up again and again, creating leverage for my punches.
FORTY-FIVE
“Oh, angel,” he chuckles, placing a hand over the wound in his back and starting to slump a little bit. He shakes his head again in disbelief. “Didn’t I teach you anything?”
“What?” I gasp.
“You’re supposed to twist it. Slice and then twist. Come here, I’ll show you.”
I am so horrified by his reaction that all I can do is watch him mutely with my mouth opening and closing, and back away as he advances.
FORTY-SIX
I look down at my arms and notice how pale they are compared to everyone else’s.
Several families sit on the lawn picnicking in their Sunday best, but it isn’t until I see the pastel bonnets and the baskets full of colored eggs that I realize today is Easter.
FORTY-SEVEN
And there it is. The real reason I’m getting a phone call. It always comes down to money with these bitches. Because money fixes everything, right?
“’It’s so sad, it’s so sad,’” I mimic. “Don’t you goddamn get it? She’s DEAD!” I scream into the phone. “You lost your chance to do anything for her. What did you do for her when she was alive?”
Read the rest of “FORTY-SEVEN”
FORTY-EIGHT
I stare into the mirror. I see a pasty, haggard excuse for a young woman in stilettos and the buff, clinging to a brass pole for dear life.
She slumps as if she’s carrying the world’s weight. Her eye makeup is too thick, and her lips painted too bright. Her face is pinched with stress. She looks much older than twenty-one.
I sit on the stage. The girl in the mirror follows suit.
Suddenly I’m more tired than I can ever remember being.
Read the rest of “FORTY-EIGHT”
FORTY-NINE
A Puerto Rican girl I’ve never spoken to stops to look at me while I’m pulling everything out of my locker. She’s really young. She looks like she just turned eighteen yesterday. For heaven’s sake. She’s still got her braces.
“You leavin’?” she wants to know. She snaps her gum.
“Yep.” I throw my coat on.
“You sick?”
“In the worst way.”
She looks confused but then recovers.
“Well, ma, I hope you feel better,” she says. “Can I have your locker?”
I stifle a giggle. These girls never change.
FIFTY
He hates me now. I made him hate me. He gave me the benefit of the doubt, over and over again, and I wound up throwing it all back in his face. He needed to be drunk just to be in the same room as me. No wonder he’s gone.
And I know I should just leave it alone, but my impulsive fingers are already dialing the number at his grandma’s house.
Epilogue
“It’s a beautiful day in your neighborhood,” says a deep voice from behind me. I jump.
“Sean, God damn it,” I scold him. “You scared the shit out of me.” I still don’t like people getting too close unless I know them pretty well. Sean, of course, knows he can get away with it.
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