Page 8 of The Ninth
Cassie: I won’t. Bye, K3.
As soon as her thumb hit the red, the words just flew out my mouth like lava, “Cassandra, you’re a fucking stripper?!”
My voice was harsher than I meant it to be. Than it needed to be. The word “stripper” sounded derogatory. Disgust and disappointment laced the sentence. I should’ve breathed before speaking or at least had a fucking thought. The worst part? The way the three of them looked at each other. It was like they already discussed and knew I was going to react this way.
“Nah. I am though, so what up? Is you coo?” the dark skinned one asked angrily. The other friend tapped her leg.
“Devyn, you remember Tatianna...right?” Cassie’s voice was polite but still strained.
“OH! Tatianna, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
She said nothing.
“The other fine ass hoe is MacKenzie. Tatianna strips, I’m a bottle girl, Kenzie bartends. I might spin a pole on certain nights. Is that aight with you?”
“This isn’t some nickel and dime club in Jeffersonville,” MacKenzie chuckled playfully. Tatianna and Cassie’s faces were blank. “You see all these big ass security men with guns? How nice it is? You’ll be taken care of. We’re just girls. And there’s so much more for you to do than just strip. So much money to be made in here!”
Tatianna opened her door, “If you not with it, go ahead and start walking because we late and Cassie not taking you home.”
Cassie opened hers, “And my nigga doesn’t know I work here. So don’t mention it when he’s on the phone or I’ma have no choice but to beatcho ass. Let’s have fun!”
Suddenly, I was in the car alone.
She works at a strip club. And even that doesn’t fund her life, her jailbird boyfriend does. As I opened my door, dragging myself inside, I couldn’t help but think how badly I wanted to tell my parents and Grandmother. They brought me here so Cassie could teach me a lesson. Teach me what, exactly?
As soon as we walked in, it smelled clean. Fuck clean, sterile. As if you had to take your shoes off right here at the door. As the door closed behind us. It went from day to night. There was absolutely no way to tell what time it was. We made our way down the little hallway, I stopped and read the club rules for customers.
If you don’t throw money or if you pick any up, we’re going to shoot you.
The lowest bill you can throw is a ten.
At minimum, twenty of them.
This isn’t a restaurant.
NO you cannot come eat wings and leave. You must play first.
Specially hosted nights are specially hosted, period.
Do not beg to come in here if you not special.
No fighting. No weapons. No arguing.
No wives that thought they were coo but they not.
No soliciting sex from the workers or harassing.
The workers are in control of what happens, not you.
If you are banned, do NOT show back up.
You will be trespassed and shot.
Do not come in here requesting any fraction of the Fab Four.
No part of you should have to wonder if you deserve them. If you have to second guess it, you already at odds.
I realized the girls left me. I stepped into the club and...wow.
