Chapter 3 – Mariah
“You’ll find something.”
Sasha was trying to give me a pep talk, but I was starting to think that she didn’t believe it either. “I found something, but it doesn’t pay enough. Everything is more expensive here.”
“Don’t worry about the rent. I told you that I got it.”
“I don’t want you to have to get it. I’ll find something.”
Sasha smiled and pushed her black, braided locks back from her face. “I told you that. I know you will. New Orleans is full of things to do for a pretty woman like you.”
The look on my face had her smiling. “There’s always a job open at the club.”
I didn’t want to offend her, but there was very little chance I was going to work for the Fetish Club. I’d been there once a couple of weeks back and I was still wondering whether it was even legal. The fact that there were two uniformed police officers in there showed it was at least tolerated – but legal? I had my doubts.
“Not really my scene.”
Sasha just smiled. “Elie saw you when you came in, said you would make a killing there.”
“What does that mean?” I wanted to know what kind of money she was talking about. I wasn’t interested, just curious.
“A couple grand a night.”
“For doing what?” That was the most important question. I hadn’t gotten into it with Sasha before, partly because I thought she or me would be embarrassed by it. But there were a lot of side rooms in the dark club, and I had to wonder what went on there.
“Whatever you’re comfortable doing.”
She was being a little ambiguous, but if she hadn’t brought it up, I wouldn’t have pushed. “What does that mean exactly?”
Sasha got up and pushed back the braids that kept falling in her face as she bent down to get her laptop off the desk. “Do you really want to know?”
I nodded that I did, and after a couple of minutes, Sasha turned the computer around. I tried to gauge my reaction. What was I supposed to say to this?
“Wow, that’s you.”
She’d brought the computer to a website that had the logo for the club on the top. There were rows of names, and under Sasha’s name there was a whole profile. It looked very polished and well done – but then there was the content that was being displayed. This wasn’t just normal information. It listed what she would do. Some things were sexual and other things were humiliating and a little painful. It was not at all what I had in mind. I stared at the screen for several minutes before I remembered that I had to breathe again.
Sasha closed up the computer and we sat in silence for a while. I didn’t know what to say, even though in my head I wanted to say something so it wouldn’t be so awkward. But all I could think was, what the hell do I say? I’d learned more about one of my best friends in two minutes online than I had in years.
“Just because it’s on there doesn’t mean that I’ll actually do it, but Elie wants the guys to feel like there’s a choice. It also makes me look naughtier.”
I just nodded along. I was still in shock. Maybe Kimmie was right and I was a prude, because I just didn’t get that.
“So you’re okay with this website?”
She shrugged again like it was nothing. I wished she would really look at me. Was that really okay with her?
“I don’t know, I guess. I don’t like having my face out like that, but I make a very good living, and the way I’m saving, it won’t be long until I can open up a little boutique and make some clothes. You know that’s what I want. This is just a way for me to get it.”
I could see her point, especially if she was making as much as she said she did. “Do you like it?”
Sasha looked away, but I could tell from her brown eyes that she was going to tell me the truth. “Not most of the time, not really. I do what I’m comfortable doing, but it isn’t always what I want to do. Then again, neither is being a waitress for a couple of dollars an hour. At least this way I don’t have to work as much and I’ll get what I want sooner. It makes it worth it.”
It wasn’t the answer I’d expected. She told me that she did have some regulars that she liked, but by and large she seemed unhappy. I hated to see my friend have to go to such lengths to make a living. Was that really what I had to look forward to if I stayed?
“I couldn’t do anything like that. I’m still waiting for the one.”
Sasha knew that and told me that she’d told Elie that. The fact that anyone knew was a little grating, but a man like that, who owned a place like that? I didn’t like that idea at all.
“You told him?”
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. He just wanted to know a little about you and that came up.”
I supposed that in a conversation with a man like that, in a place like that, it would come up. Another reality check that I could never do something like that. I could never be so free about sex and everything else around it.
“Oh.”
“You look like you’re freaking out a little bit. It was just shop talk. He said with the way you look and the fact that you’re untouched, that wouldn’t change, but just the idea of it would be enough to get the big money. You could easily make more than me, and he wouldn’t charge you a higher fee.”
“Fee?”
“Yeah, I pay him to work there, to use the building and the back rooms. He sets up the clients with my specifications and then I pay him every night I’m there. It’s a lot, but it’s worth it because I don’t have to deal with anything. Any problems, Elie takes care of it.”
“So you work for him, but pay him to work there?” I felt like my mind was being blown.
“Yeah, it sounds strange when you say it like that.”
“Uh huh.”
“You just have to know how it works.”
I still didn’t get it, but after an hour and a few drinks, Sasha had explained it all to me. I’m not sure when I started to think about it as a last resort option, but that’s what it started to seem like to me. I was going to keep looking for something else, but the club was now in the back of my mind. If I ever needed to make some real money fast, I would know where to go. I didn’t think I would ever have to, but somewhere during that conversation it became a possibility.
***
“Mariah, you need to make sure that you get all of the grease out of there.”
I looked down into the fryer and felt my stomach churning. It was my third day at the best job I’d been able to find in the last month and I was already thinking to myself how much I hated it. The pimple-faced manager who wasn’t but a year older than me didn’t help at all. He was already on me all of the time and I hadn’t been at the restaurant a week.
“Yes, sir. I’ll do it again.”
I didn’t mention that it was the second time I’d done it already and I didn’t see the point of getting all of the grease out when I was going to put more in. This was what I had to do for $7.25 an hour, and as I got the machine drained for the third time, I thought about what Sasha had said. I certainly didn’t like the job that I was in now. I was still looking, sure, but what if this was it? I could go back home and live there for half the cost and never have to do this kind of job. It was even worse than the two days I’d spent shucking oysters last week.
I felt the manager’s breath on me and I turned around to see him too close. Was he smelling me?
“Is there a problem, sir?”
“Does that look clean to you?”
He was talking about the fryer, and I could see what he was referring to. Was it wrong that all I could think about was pushing his face into it, with or without the grease in it?
“It won’t all come out. When I shoot more grease into it, it just fills all of the crevices back up.”
“That’s why you have to put your hands in there, princess. You’re not afraid of getting your hands dirty, are you?”
The nickname irritated me bigtime. I wasn’t going to be able to do this anymore, and the longer I thought about it all, the more I questioned what I was doing there to begin with. Was this any better than what Sasha was doing? She at least liked some of her job. I couldn’t think of anything about the restaurant that made me want to get up and go back every day.
When the manager came back around to watch me work, that was the last straw. When he mentioned the grease again, I told him what he could do with it. I took off my french-fry-smelling hat and walked out. It was the single best moment that I’d had in a month, but it didn’t last long. That euphoric feeling was coupled with the fact that I was now unemployed again, and that quickly brought me back down to earth. This time though, I had an idea. One that had been planted weeks ago. After seeing what else was out there, I was ready to go over to the dark side.
When I got home, Sasha was just getting up. She commented that I didn’t have my hat on. “Where’s your chicken hat at?”
I made a face at her and told her that I quit.
“Again?” She found it funny. So did Kimmie. But me being the broke friend was no longer that appealing to me. It never really was.
“Yes, again. I just can’t clean another drop of grease out of a hot machine.”
“I told you that it wasn’t going to be that great.”
“I thought I would be cooking.”
Sasha just grinned. Her look said she’d told me so. She didn’t even have to say it out loud. It was unnecessary.
“So what are you going to do now?”
It was becoming a pattern, and it was one that I wanted to change. I wanted to make some money and stop worrying about everything.
“I think I’m ready to go over to the dark side. Do you think your boss would still talk to me?”
Sasha was a bit surprised, but she nodded her head that he would. “I didn’t think you ever wanted to meet him, though.”
“Desperate times…”
“Yeah, I know that feeling. He’s a little abrasive and all, but if he says that you’ll make money there, you will. You’ve always been the pretty one, Mariah, with that blonde hair and come-hither innocence. You’ll make a lot of money.”
That was what I had to focus on. I wasn’t going to focus on the job. The job might not be any better, but it paid more. I was trying to stay positive.
“I hope so, Sasha. I’m sick of being broke.”
Sasha just smiled and told me that I wasn’t going to be that way for long. “You’ll make more in a day than you have all month.”
It sounded good, maybe too good, but there was still a question of what I was going to have to do to get that kind of money. Would it be worth it like it was for Sasha?