- Chapter 3
ABBY
My feet ached horribly by the end of the afternoon. The day had been very successful for tips, and I immediately went to the bank to deposit it so my sisters could have access to the cash back in Wichita, Kansas.
“Sam, I’m putting two hundred dollars into the account so you guys can buy some groceries,” I said when I called her.
“Abby, it’s alright, we aren’t going to starve to death. There are plenty of canned foods for us to eat still.”
“Samantha, I won’t have you two going hungry. Now tell me what you know about the bank? Have they contacted you guys?”
“I think Bailey talked to them earlier today, but she had to get to work, so I haven’t had a chance to talk to her. She’s working at The Chicken Shack now.”
“Oh, that’s good.”
It wasn’t good. It was horrible. The Chicken Shack was a rundown no-name fast food restaurant in town. It paid minimum wage and was hardly worth Bailey’s time to go there. But I wasn’t about to make either of my sisters feel bad for their jobs. They worked hard and were trying the best they could. Unfortunately, even with both of them working, they barely could pay the utilities, car insurance, and gas. I made more than them in one day.
The problem I had was living in New York was damn expensive. I had to keep up my appearance to keep my jobs, and the money I made went toward the day to day living needs I had. Isabella and I had a gym membership so we could shower easily, we shared a small storage unit for our clothing, and we always found places to sleep. An apartment would have cost us well over $2,000 a month and that just wasn’t something we could afford.
I didn’t normally make $200 in tips a day. I sometimes only made $30. Plus, I only worked three to four days a week at the restaurant and another three or four nights dancing. There just was never enough money. I kept thinking that if I worked harder, I would somehow have enough money to help my sisters save the family home, but it wasn’t looking like that would happen.
“Have her call me when she gets home. Leave her a note in case you’re asleep when she comes in. I need to know just how much money we have to pay to keep the house from going up for auction. I know we won’t be able to save the business, but maybe the house.”
“It’s alright Abby. We can move into an apartment or something.”
“Sam, you have a house that is paid for. You wouldn’t have to pay a monthly payment at all, just the yearly taxes. We just need to get those back taxes paid so you can keep the house. I’m going to make it happen, talk with Bailey and find out how much time we have left.”
“OK. You know we could always come out there and live with you.”
My mouth went dry at the thought of my younger sisters trying to fend for themselves in New York. They both thought I had an apartment and was doing well. They had no idea I never knew where I would sleep from one night to the next, and I wasn’t going to tell them.
I certainly wasn’t going to bring them to New York and have them living the life I was living. It was better that they didn’t see what I went through, and I just couldn’t stand the thought of them being disappointed in me.
“Let’s just get you guys situated out there for now. You know I love you, right?”
“Yes Abby, I know. I love you too.”
“I’m heading into work now. I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow.”
“Goodnight Abby.”
“Night.”
I felt guilty as hell for leaving them back in Wichita, but New York wasn’t the best place for them. I needed to get my own place with Isabella and then they could come out and visit first. But Bailey and Samantha were not big city girls. They were small town girls, and I just didn’t want to see them corrupted by the city as I had been.
I met Isabella outside of our gym so we could shower up and get ready to dance that night. We were doing a cool go-go number in some clear walled shower stalls up on the stage. It was going to be a lot of fun. Pretty much every night Isabella and I got to do our show together was fun.
Originally when I came to New York, I wanted to be on Broadway. I wanted to sing and dance and be a professional performer. But it was much harder than I could have known to get into one of those shows, and I just didn’t have the experience I needed to do it. Instead, I was relegated to dancing at a go-go club in a swimsuit.
Being a go-go dancer wasn’t like being a stripper. We got paid a flat wage by the club owner and didn’t make tips like strippers did. But of course, there were many other perks to the job. We got to drink for free all night long, and we got to meet guys at the club. There were plenty of snacks around behind the stage so we never had to worry about dinner on the nights we worked, and we made a decent amount of money per dance.
“I think we should wear schoolgirl outfits tonight,” Isabella said as we made our way into the locker room.
“Um, no.”
“Why not? It will get the guys all hot and bothered.”
“No. How about our gold bikinis?”
Isabella just rolled her eyes. She hated the gold bikinis because she thought she was fat. But Isabella wasn’t even close to being fat. She had curves that all women had, and the guys liked that. Isabella was also a much better dancer than I was, although I would never admit that to her. There was something about her ability to make eye contact with the guys that always had them fawning all over her when the night was over.
I struggled to connect with most of the guys at the club. It was impossible to find a guy that I was even remotely interested in, so I often just went for the lame guy that I knew would be safe to go home with. My defensive wall was up so high that it was practically impossible for a guy to get me to talk to them or show any sort of emotions. But most of the time that didn’t really matter because the guys were too busy looking at my body to care that I wasn’t talking to them.
“I’m not a size two like you are. I don’t look good in that bikini. How about the blue one? It looks awesome with our eyes.”
“OK, I’ll compromise. Let’s go with the blue ones. But you really need to get over this body issue stuff. You are beautiful. Like smoking hot supermodel beautiful.”
Isabella just rolled her eyes at me again. I could tell her a million times that she was perfect, and she didn’t hear a single word I had to say. She was caught up in her own view of her body, and that made me horribly sad.
One of the reasons Isabella and I got along so well was because we could both put aside our typical personalities and perform when we were on the stage. There was an actress in both of us, and that bonded us together. No matter how we behaved off the stage, when we were together on the stage, we knew how to put on a hell of a show.
“Hey, I picked up an extra hour dancing on the side stage. Natasha called in. Will you stick around and wait for me? Don’t run off with anyone; I want to hang out.”
“I’m not making any promises,” Isabella said with a wink.
We showered and got ready in under an hour, and then we were on our way to Glance Go-Go. It was in midtown, and neither of us ever wanted to splurge for a cab so we just walked there. It was good exercise since we never used our gym to actually workout.
Having a gym membership was a necessity if you didn’t have a place to stay. We used the gym as our personal bathroom whenever we needed to get ready for a date or other event. It was close to our storage locker and open twenty-four hours so it worked out no matter what time of day we needed it.
Living in New York without an actual place to live was a tricky undertaking, but Isabella and I had it down. We knew how to get to and from places quickly, where to stash our clothes when we needed to keep them for a few hours and didn’t want to walk all the way back to our storage locker. We even knew what to say at the local hotels if we wanted to hang out there for a little while without getting in trouble.
Where many homeless girls went wrong was that they tried to hide out when they went places. They would try and make it so people didn’t notice them, which inevitably made people notice them even more. Isabella and I knew better, we walked into places like we belonged there, no matter what we were wearing. We made eye contact with the clerk or person at the counter, and we always had a story that worked well for the situation. For example, if we needed to wait at the Hilton for a few hours until work started and didn’t want to wait out in the cold or walk all the way back to our storage locker, we simply said we were waiting for our father to get off work from the laundry area. No one ever knew who actually worked in the laundry area, and no one wanted to be rude and tell us we couldn’t wait for our father.
The line was huge outside the club as we walked around to the back and went in. It was going to be a fun night; I loved it when we had lots of people. The energy was amazing, plus it gave me many more possibilities to go home with. Glance was a top club in the city at the time, and everyone wanted to be there. It didn’t matter if it was the middle of the week, people always wanted to dance.
“Oh, my God. Pizza? Someone had pizza delivered,” Isabella said as we walked toward the dressing rooms.
Sometimes there wasn’t any food backstage and we had to pillage the bar for olives. But most of the time, we could find some protein bars, fast food, or pizza that people would share with us. Of course, we never told people that we didn’t have a place to stay. But we always took advantage of free food when it was there.
“Wait until after our shower scene, you don’t want to look bloated,” I said, and then instantly regretted it.
I was always thinking of what would look best on stage, but I knew I shouldn’t talk like that around Isabella. She already had body issues and would instantly berate me for not wanting to eat pizza.
“Oh Abby, just eat some damn pizza. Your flat stomach isn’t going to look that bloated from one piece of pizza.”
“I’ll eat some when we are done. We will only be out there for an hour.”
The way our night started off was we would wear our outfits and dance on the side stage for about half an hour. Then the main stage was cleared and our set was brought out. The DJ, Romeo, had a special club mix that we liked to dance to and would play it as we stepped into our showers. The mix lasted about twenty minutes, depending on how much scratching he was doing with it and if he added any other tunes in with it. It was a fast way to earn $100, and on some nights, we booked a couple different sessions.
“Hey, remember to turn around and let the guys see your chest. You’re always shaking your ass, and they like to see the girls as well.”
“I’m always afraid my tits are going to pop out of our outfits. I really need to buy bigger tops,” I said as I held my breasts and shook them at Isabella.
“No, your tops are just the right size. Stop being so self-conscious about your body,” Isabella said as she teased me with my own words.
“I guess we both have to work on our confidence.” I laughed.
“OK girls, it’s time to head out,” Amelia said as she walked past with a clipboard.
Amelia was the assistant manager at Glance and the one we dealt with most of the time. She did the schedule and worked pretty much every night. The club was closed on Mondays, so we all had that day off. But I saw Amelia there pretty much every other day of the week. She was shorter than Isabella and had brown hair with glasses. It seemed like she wished she had a figure so she could dance, but instead took the job as the stage manager so she could be part of the whole dancing scene.
“Hey did you see any good looking guys out there?” Isabella asked.
“Oh yes. You know who is out there tonight? Theodore Stern, yummy!”
“The name sounds familiar, who is he?” I asked.
“He was rated one of the top bachelors in the city. Super tall, dark hair and handsome as hell. He owns that new restaurant PalStyle.”
“Point him out to us later, OK?” Isabella said as she pulled me out onto the stage with her.
Although we got paid good money for dancing, our goal was to find a rich and good looking guy that we could go home with. My unicorn was a rich, good looking guy that could also hold a conversation with me. Most of the time when I found a rich guy, he was ugly. When I found a good looking guy, he was poor, and when I happened to find a good looking guy that was rich, he was an asshole. Was it that much to find all three in one guy? I supposed so since I had yet to meet such a man.
I liked to dance, but there was always that initial fear when I went out on stage. I would look around and see who was watching me, then I would just turn around and start to dance. I had lied to Isabella about being afraid my breasts would pop out. I really just didn’t like people to see my face or for me to see theirs. It made me nervous, and then I couldn’t dance very well.
The music pounded and the lights pulsed as we moved in our bright blue bikinis on stage. Only in New York City was it normal to have women in hi-heels and bikinis dancing along to the go-go music; well, maybe it would also be normal in Las Vegas as well.
The first part of our set was easy. We were relatively unknown to the audience, and there were no direct lights on us. We got to move and dance however we wanted. The club goers were also dancing to the music, and I often glanced back to see them watching us. They liked the go-go dancers, even the women in the club. Many of the girls watched us and then would copy our dance moves to impress the men they were with. It was just one of the many reasons the go-go club was so popular.
Romeo was great about giving us dancers a cue before our shows. He would come on the microphone and ask who was feeling hot that night. We had about two minutes to get over to the main stage and into our showers. That was when the adrenaline really started pumping.
The anticipation of what the water temperature was going to be was always the worst for me. Some nights it was warm and the shower would be steaming as we danced. Other nights, it was freezing cold and you could see our breath, and our nipples, as we danced. I much preferred the warm water to the cold.
I held my breath as I waited for the lights to come on and to feel the temperature of the shower. I said a quiet prayer that the water would be warm that night.
“Turn around!” Isabella yelled at me.
I reluctantly turned around to face the audience. It was so hard to be that exposed to the audience, but I quickly tried to get into character so we could put on an amazing show.
The people toward the front of the dance floor had seen the showers being brought to the main stage and were ready to watch the show. Many of them had stopped dancing and were just holding onto their partners while they waited. It was a pretty amazing set, and Isabella and I loved that we got to do the dance scene in the showers, they were by far the most requested by the club goers.
Toward the bar, I saw an amazingly handsome tall guy standing there with another man. They were both dressed impeccably with expensive button up shirts and slacks. I wondered if the tall guy was Theodore Stern or not. Either way, I made a mental note of the two men so Isabella and I could go find them later.
When the lights came up, I couldn’t see anyone beyond the people right in front of the stage. The rest of the audience would flash into focus every now and again as the lights pulsed, but not enough to actually see anyone.
My body was comfortable with our dance, and I instinctively moved to the music. We had performed our shower dance dozens of times. Each move had been perfected. Our timing was almost perfect as we let the music guide our bodies.
The water was warm, and I loved it. I felt sexy in the warm water and more sensual than when it was cold. I let my hands rub up and down my curves as I thrust my body into each of our moves. The dance was sensual, but it was more erotic than when we danced on the side stage.
It was a show for the audience. We were there to entertain them, to entice them, to make them want to be us, or want to be with us. Our jobs as go-go dancers were to entertain, and we did our best to make sure that happened.
As our song came to an end, I heard Romeo ask the audience if they wanted to see more of us. I silently swore at him for dragging out our twenty-minute dance. We got paid the same amount no matter how long the dance was, and I still had to work an extra hour on the side stage when we were done. The longer our featured dance took, the less of a break I was going to get before I had to dance again.
“Do you want to see Abby and Isabella dance to another song?” he yelled out.
I had to fight the anger as it welled up inside of me. He wasn’t supposed to do that. We were paid to dance for one hour. If he played another song, it would go for 15 to 20 more minutes. It was exhausting to dance for an hour straight, and an extra 20 minutes wouldn’t be paid for by the club.
I looked over at Isabella, who just shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t care. Isabella was happy to give away her time and energy, but I wasn’t. I had signed up to dance for another hour on the side stage. It was already going to be tiring enough. I would have walked off the stage, except it would look bad on me and I didn’t want that to happen. But I would surely talk to Amelia and Romeo when I was done working.
When Romeo finally ended our show, I was exhausted. Instead of having 30 minutes to rest before I had to dance again, I only had 10 minutes. I was soaking wet and not happy at all with him, or with Amelia for letting him do shit like that.
“I’m not sure, but I think I saw that Theodore Stern guy standing in the back next to the bar. He had a friend with him,” I said to Isabella as we dried off backstage.
“You can have Theo,” Isabella said. “I’ll check out the friend. You know I don’t like super tall guys. They make me feel like a midget.”
We both laughed. Isabella wasn’t that short, maybe around 5’4” but I was four inches taller than her. So I always took the tall guy, and she took the other one when we found a pair of bachelors.
“I’m going to be exhausted. I don’t know, maybe I won’t bother.”
“Oh, I’m going to find this Theo guy and I’ll get him all warmed up for you. Then you can just walk your sexy ass out there and take him home.”
Isabella made me laugh. She had this ability to act confident when it came to men, but I knew deep down she was really self-conscious. If a guy criticized her, it hit her very hard; if he complimented her, she felt like it was the absolute best thing in the world.
“See you in an hour or so,” I said as I slipped into a new outfit and brushed my hair out.