A minor set-back

Life for Quisha had become mundane—work, home and study was her life and she hoped it would pay off for her at some point. She let Bridget sucker her into another night out knowing that time should have been about studying.

She had a paper due later that week and had not been working on it. When they got home, Quisha attempted to finish her paper only to fall asleep.

Later that morning she awoke with a start when she realized she was going to be late for work. It was her fourth tardy. She had gotten a reprimand two weeks earlier, but going to school full-time and working full-time was taking its toll.

She survived on three hours of sleep and energy drinks until it caught up with her.

When she got to work that day and was called into the manager’s office she knew. Her manager let her go. Upset and dejected she walked to her car. It was the first time in her life that she was fired from a job. Thankfully Bridget wasn’t home when she got there. She wanted to just sit in her room and feel sorry for herself. Later that night when Bridget got home, Quisha told her what had happened.

“I told you about being late,” Bridget admonished.

“I know, I know; I don’t need a lecture please,” Quisha said in her defense.

“Well you have to find something soon, because I won’t support a grown ass woman,” Bridget said.

“I’m not asking you to support me. And stop asking me to go out so late with you,” Quisha said upset at her cousin’s insensitivity. “Just wait, I’ll have something.”

The next day she hit the pavement to look for another job.

It was easier said than done. She was particular about the places where she wanted to work and most weren’t hiring or was paying minimum wage. Before heading home, she sat in her car after the last job prospect and just thought about options.

Go back down south? she thought to herself and her mother came to mind. She shook her head. That was out of the question. Just then, she remembered the card the stranger had given her months earlier. She retrieved it from her glove compartment.

The card read: Drop it like it’s Hot strip club and bar—Ask for Hank. Couldn’t hurt, she said to herself. She’d been out of work for three weeks. She was so desperate for work she didn’t care. She put the address in her phone’s GPS and drove to a club on Eight mile. When she got to there, she sat in the car for twenty minutes; this was something out of the ordinary for her. She took a deep breath before going in.

“Who are you here for?” a woman asked Quisha when she walked in.

“Hank,” Quisha responded.

“Oh, he gets here a little later than the rest of us,” said the woman. “So you can wait for him, or set up an appointment for tomorrow.”

Quisha thought it over; she really didn’t want to be there anyway. “Um, I’ll set up an appointment for tomorrow,” she said.

“Ok, be here at six pm, bring a thong and some stilettos and I’ll let him know that he has an interview. Do you have experience?” the woman asked.

Quisha swallowed, over a lump. “Yes,” she lied. She had experience in that she was a natural on the dance floor at the club, but shaking her ass in a thong in front of a crowd, not so much.

* * *

The next day

Quisha was at the club waiting for Hank. He eventually showed up at six-fifteen. He looked exactly how she expected—like a dishonest used car salesman with an artificial tan, perfectly manicured nails and expensive cologne.

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” he said and extended his hand for her to shake. She followed him to his office, down a dimly lit hall and he bade her to sit.

“We’ve been so busy here. We’re opening another club on the East side,” he started. “Our clientele is pretty much upscale, rich, some celebrities—you get the picture,” he continued. “I like to handpick the ladies myself. I know what our clients want.”

He looked Quisha over as he spoke. “We expect absolute confidentiality here; anyone breaking that rule will be fired on the spot,” he said sternly. After the brief interview she was asked to dance.

“The bathroom is down the hall for you to change,” he said. “Meet me by the stage in ten minutes.”