Page 20 of Dirty

I looked in the mirror again. I liked my new look, and the transformation would equate to more tips. My mouth curled into a sly grin. I turned to face Sandy. “Do I get to waitress today, or will I be training?”

“Depends on if you can memorize the lunch specials.”

“How many specials?”

“Three.”

I spit out a laugh. “Looks like I’ll be waiting tables.”

She unlocked the door. “I have a hard time remembering anything, but nobody cares.”

I had the brains and she had the body. I decided even though I normally didn’t like girls that I’d give her a chance.

Two hours later, the small restaurant was slammed with customers, and I was waiting on half of them while Sandy waited the other half.

When the lunch rush was over, she and I sat in the break room and talked while we snacked on stuffed mushrooms and fried lobster.

I poked one of the mushrooms with my fork, and then studied it. “Are you always this busy at lunch?”

“Every day.”

“Wow.”

I took a bite if the mushroom, and quickly realized why they were so busy. It was incredible.

“I work four days a week and make about two grand,” she said.

“A month?”

She laughed. “A week.”

I made $40 a day at my previous job. I swallowed my mouthful of crab-stuffed heaven and looked at her.

“Jesus.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Do you always work the lunch shift?”

“Yep.” She popped one of the lobster bites into her mouth and grinned after she swallowed it. “I dance at night. Well, two nights a week.”

I shot her a look. “Dance?”

She nodded. “At the Main Attraction.”

I choked mushroom residue. The Main Attraction was a stripper bar known for catering to bikers. “You’re a stripper?”

She grabbed a mushroom. “Uh huh.”

I’d always considered stripping to be a substandard career. After what I experienced, though, for me to look at anyone as lesser than me was impossible. In an odd circumstance, I’d offered myself to a man who was the lowest form of life on earth, and I did so repeatedly.

Unique circumstances support unique reactions. I didn’t know the intricacies of her life or her needs, and for me to be critical of her would be inconsiderate and none of my business, really.

“Cool,” I said. “I bet you’ve got a lot of interesting stories to tell.”

“Every night, it’s something. It’s crazy some of the shit people do and say.”

I wondered if Cholo went to the strip club. I felt a strange attraction to him after the night we met, and I initially attributed it to his heroic actions. After he came by my mother’s house, I realized the attraction was more conventional.

Or, at least I thought it was. I grabbed another mushroom and wondered if – and when – I may see him again. I took a bite of the mushroom. While she picked at a piece of lobster, I swallowed and wiped my teeth clean with the tip of my tongue.

“Do any of the Filthy Fuckers come in there? The MC, not just a random filthy fucker.”