Chapter Thirteen
Opal was starting to get into the groove of working an entry level job. Sure, she was never given the chance to use her creative energy. There was a lot to do though, and the men who came in often gave her large tips just for being pretty and handing them a drink. It was almost criminal how much she walked away with some nights. In fact, she began to wear low cut tops and tighter skirts that showed off her body; a body that she had started to work on more than usual. Her exercise routine consisted of jogging and strength training. It helped her to get rid of all that frustration that came with having lost her job. There was also the sex, of which she'd been going without. Dwayne had not called her for some time, and she decided it was best to just leave things ended.
They'd talked not too long ago, over the phone. It hadn't gone well then and left very little hope for a reunion. Opal didn't much want to be with a man who thought so little of her personal happiness, when given the choice to at least try and stand up for her honor and her rights.
"I'm sorry," she said to him on the phone. "If you were interested in keeping things together, you would have tried more. But that's beside the point; you're not the caring, protective man I thought you were. On the outside you're a nice guy, but that's all bullshit. Goodbye, Dwayne."
"If that's how you really want to leave things, after all this time, fine. Good luck working as a stripper, or whatever the hell you're doing now. I guess I dodged a bullet not marrying you." He hung up on her, as though he were doing the breaking up. That hurt, but not as much as those final cutting words. Opal had just finished her early evening shift, and was about to go home. For some stupid reason she'd decided to call Dwayne and set things straight. It wasn't until he answered that she decided it was time to officially end things, instead of just being on a break.
"You headed home then?" said Rupert. He was still on duty, having just started about an hour earlier.
"Yeah, I'm not going to hang around here, am I? I know my life's pretty pathetic right now, but I'm not going to stick around work just to avoid being alone in the apartment I can barely afford now."
Rupert sucked in the corner of his mouth and shrugged a little, with clear empathy. "That's rough, babe. But you do realize that it's lady's night tonight, right? Starts in about fifteen minutes. Why do you think I'm here? I always make sure I'm scheduled to work during the beefcake display. You gotta get your name down next week, okay?"
"Hmm, maybe I should stick around and unwind then?"
"Sounds like you need it. Here, I'll make sure you have plenty to drink." He fixed her a vodka and orange juice. "Take a seat at the bar so you won't feel lonely. Just watch out for the stampede. Opal enjoyed her drink, and then another one. The guys came out onto the stage finally, but not before there was a surge of mostly middle aged women, with some bachelorettes and hen parties mixed into the crowd. They were much louder than the guys ever were. Instead of patiently waiting for attention from the strippers, whatever they were deemed worthy of receiving—these women yelled and hollered for what they wanted.
"Show us your dick!" was far too common a request. The guys weren't allowed to get completely naked though, which really pissed Opal off.
"They let women take it all off. I don't get it," Opal yelled over the roaring ladies in the crowd. The bar was packed as well, like the whole place.
"Yeah but your junk is a little more, concealed, don't you think?" said Rupert over the cacophony.
"Still, it's been some time since I've seen a nice cock. That was one thing my fiancé did have going for him, spineless weasel that he turned out to be. Why are all the real men such assholes? Is it a confidence thing? Does knowing that women want you just instantly turn you into a total cunt?"
"Wow, I didn't think you even knew that word," said Rupert. "Not exactly lady like. Here, have a shot of tequila."
"Lady like my ass," said Opal as she downed the semi-opaque liquid. "I'm tired of being treated like shit. Ladies night only went for two hours total. That was more than enough time for Gus’s strip club to rake in more than enough money. He was basically never there himself, which was a pleasant realization for Opal. It was bad enough that she had to see him around the lobby of her building sometimes, with his greasy smugness.
After the studs were off the stage, the women left quickly and orderly. Slowly, the male patrons began to sift back in, until the area was much like it had been every other night Opal worked there. That was when she saw a face that really made her see red.
"Hello, Opal," said Owen as he approached the bar. The guy had seen her from the entrance and started to smile to himself like someone had just told him a funny joke. "Were you here for this ladies’ night shit?"
"I figured that's why you're here. Sorry but you missed the naked men. It's okay, they didn't get their dicks out anyway."
"Wow … you've really let yourself go slumming since losing your job, haven't you? I always knew that Dwayne was too much of a pantie waist to handle you."
"You got that right," she said. "Rupert, can I get another drink?"
"And I'll have your best bourbon," he said.
"Apparently it's not what the wealthy drink," said Opal. "You can probably make do with it though. Does your wife know you like to come to strip clubs?"
"Who would believe your word on anything anymore? The circles I run in, they wouldn't even let you approach them long enough to tell your lies. Just accept it: I'm better than you, especially now you don't have Dwayne to make you look like you actually had an upbringing."
"You're a real fucking piece of shit, but you know that. And I know something went on at work. I promise that I'll find out who framed me."
"What are you going to do about it anyway? You can't do shit without a lawyer in this town, and you're working behind the bar at a whore house."
"How do you know I work here? Oh, I see, I guess my shitty life is pretty tasty gossip at the country club. You came in just to see for yourself, didn't you? I'll see you later, dick head." That was that—she had to follow through with Carl's plan and get that money. A bartender's wages, even with great tips, wasn't enough for that kind of action.