After I hung up the phone, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be re-employed within the next couple of hours. The only thing I had left to do was get myself there. I didn’t have a car, so my only option was to call a cab.
I remembered that I had a couple of quarters in my makeup bag that I kept in the dressing room. While I was searching through my cosmetics looking for the change, I heard somebody open the dressing room door. I glanced up to see who it was and there stood Sara in the doorway. “I overheard you telling Magdalene that you were going to the Nite Strip Lounge. My husband can give you a ride there if you want him to.” My immediate reaction was to call her a sick bitch and tell her to mind her own business, but somehow I managed to restrain myself. I thought about it for minute and decided to take her up on her offer for the sim-ple reason that it would be cheaper than taking a cab. Sara told me to hurry up and get ready to leave. She said that her husband would be waiting for me in the back of the club and that he would be driving a black Camero. Sara smiled revealing a set of tinged-yellow teeth. As she turned to leave the dressing room, she asked me not to tell anyone that her husband was giving me a ride to the Nite Strip Lounge. “I don’t want any problems with Casey,” she said. I lied and assured her that I wouldn’t tell a soul. As soon as I left the dressing room, I made it a point to tell Magdalene that Sara’s husband was going to give me a ride to the club, and I made sure that I said it loud enough for Sara to hear it.
Holding my suitcase in one hand and my makeup case in the other, I left the club via the emergency door that led to the back parking lot of the club. The emergency door that slammed closed behind me sounded like a prison gate. I stood in the pitch-black parking lot. It was extremely still outside that particular evening, and so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. There was no breeze of any kind, no movement and no noise. I looked around the parking lot for a car, but there wasn’t one. There was no sign of anyone around and certainly no black Camero.
The first thing that ran through my mind was that Sara had deliberately set me up.
I began to feel paranoia overcome me as my eyes nervously scanned the dark parking lot for a car. Finally, a dark-colored vehicle crept into the parking lot.
Whoever was driving the car didn’t have the headlights turned on. I watched the ominous vehicle slither around the corner of the club. The automobile began to move toward me. I could hear the sound of crackling gravel beneath the tires as the car approached the back of the parking lot. The snake like automobile stopped directly in front of me. From where I stood, I could see the shadowy silhouette of a man slouched behind the steering wheel of the car.
The faint sound of country western music drifted from the inside of the car. The dark silhouette of the man didn’t move or even so much as motion for me to get into the vehicle. I was leery about approaching the vehicle, but I wanted to be sure that the person driving the car was actually Sara’s husband before I got in.
From the car, a man’s voice with a southern accent softly called out my name.
Although I was apprehensive, I walked over to the passenger side of the car, and peered into the window at him. There sat a rather small man, somewhere in his late forties, with dark-wavy hair and a receding jaw line. The guy looked like a total creep. As he reached over to open the passenger door, the interior light of his car went on. “Are you the young lady that needs a ride to the Nite Strip Lounge?” he asked. I nodded my head yes. He told me his name was Samuel and motioned for me to get into the car. Before I got into the vehicle, I glanced into the backseat and noticed that there was another person in the car. It was a little child. I opened up the passenger side of the car and got in. I intentionally didn’t lock the car door.
As we began to pull out of the parking lot, I asked Samuel if he knew the way to the Nite Strip Lounge. He nodded his head yes. He offered me a cigarette, which I politely refused. The highway was dark and entrenched with fog. The fog surrounding the car made me feel claustrophobic. Samuel turned his country western music way down to almost a whisper. I could hear his daughter munching on some potato chips.
I noticed that the interior of the car seemed to emit a foul odor that was indescribable. It was a strange musty smell that I was unfamiliar with. The smell was beginning to nauseate me, so I rolled the passenger side window down in hopes of diluting the stench. The damp highway air blowing directly in my face helped curb my nausea. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Samuel. His eyes were firmly glued to the foggy highway, and his face was expressionless. I could still smell the peculiar odor that was coming from somewhere inside the car. In the most diplomatic way possible, I asked my chauffeur if he knew what the weird smell was. Samuel didn’t reply. He simply stared straight ahead as if he were in some sort of trance. His lack of response made me extremely uncomfortable. I knew that the Nite Strip Lounge was close and recognized the glowing sign at the gas station ahead. The little girl in the back seat had fallen asleep. Now it was just Samuel, the fog, and me. He reached across my lap to open his glove compartment and took out a pack of cigarettes. Once again he asked me if I wanted one.
Once more, I declined. This time, my refusal to smoke put a smile on his face.
Out of the clear blue sky he answered my question about the odor. “You know little Jill back there,” he pointed to the sleeping child lying in the back seat, “she spilled some milk or something. Guess no one bothered to wipe it up. Spoiled milk smells, you know. Can’t get rid of that smell.” I didn’t reply to his explanation of the strange smell. At this point, I no longer cared. All I wanted to do was to get away from him.
Finally, we arrived at the intersection of where the club was located. The building was encased in fog making it difficult to see. Flashing red neon lights danced pro-vocatively on the marquee drawing attention to the dark building. I instructed Samuel to drop me off at the far end of the parking lot. “It’s dark out here. Sure you want to walk that far?” the strange man asked me. “I’ll take my chances,” I replied. The homely man nodded his head. He had the audacity to ask me if I wanted him to pick me up later. I politely but firmly refused his offer. Samuel slowly pulled into the large parking lot of the Nite Strip Lounge, and stopped the car. I reached into the back seat and quickly gathered up my things, trying not to disturb the sleeping child.
5. Nite Strip Lounge
As I walked through the parking lot to the entryway of the Nite Strip Lounge, I was able to hear music. It wasn’t the typical upbeat type of music that one would expect to hear in a strip club, but rather a sad yet seductive type of melody capable of beckoning the most innocent of souls. When I opened the door that led into the club, the intense flashing red and green lights blinded me. A small group of men holding large, black-metal flashlights were gathered around a dimly lit cigarette machine. Their faces grossly distorted by the unflattering green lights. I approached the men, and asked one of them if they knew where the manager was.
A classy looking man with a showbiz smile stepped forward and introduced himself as the manager. I smiled and told him that I was the person who he had spoken with earlier regarding a job. He introduced himself as Monty and asked if I would accompany him to the office. He asked me a few general questions about myself and then told me that I was hired. The whole process couldn’t have taken more than ten minutes. Before I left the office, I was informed that the owner at the club, a man by the name of Vince Roth, would also be interviewing me within the next couple of days. I had heard quite a few negative reports concerning this man from my ex-employers and a handful of dancers that worked at the Nite Strip Lounge in the past. Vince Roth had a reputation for being physically abusive to his employees. I chose to ignore these allegations simply because I needed to believe that anything had to be better than where I had just come from.