Babes Stripping For Love

Strange things had been happening lately, she thought. But when her car suddenly ran out of gas in front of what looked unmistakably like a strip club, Bree didn't want to take it as a sign. She needed a real job. As a single mom, she had exactly two hours before she had to pick up Hazel from daycare.

"Missy, you can't park here."

The voice belonged to a large man with a thick mustache that looked like it had wandered out of the seventies.

"I don't intend to. It ran out of gas, I..." Bree pressed the window button, trying to make herself heard.

"Well, you can park it here," the man cut in, repeating himself louder, as if she hadn't heard him the first time.

*Oh god...* she thought.

Suddenly, all the stress from the last couple of days came rushing down. Her chest heaved, and her vision started to blur.

*Oh god, not now...* her inner voice pleaded.

"Dude, Elvis, it's not even noon and you're making a beautiful woman cry already. Not cool, man."

A man with a sleeve of tattoos slapped the mustached guy on the back.

"Hey, I'm Rocco. Sorry about my buddy Elvis here. Yeah, that's his real name. Look, are you here for the audition? Come on in. You look like you could use a drink."

"But, my car..."

Rocco, the tattooed guy, peeked at her gas gauge and smiled. "Happens all the time to my girlfriend. Elvis, will you help..." He waited.

It took Bree a couple of seconds to reconnect her brain to her ability to form sentences.

"Bree," she blurted out.

The tattooed guy smiled warmly. "Elvis, will you help Bree with her car? I believe you know how to pump gasoline into a car?" He tossed Elvis his keys. Before Bree realized what was happening, Rocco knocked on her door frame. She opened the door, took his hand, and let him usher her into the dimly lit strip club.

Bree left her ten-year-old Honda with the keys still in the ignition to the grumpy-looking Elvis. Her head was still spinning when Rocco placed a cold can of soda in front of her once she was seated at the bar area of the club.

"I'm Rocco. Bartender, sometimes floor manager, and sometimes I handle all the shit that's happening here. Including the audition for the strippers today."

"But I'm not auditioning to be a stripper. I need a real job."

Her words made him laugh. "You better not let the girls hear that. So, my bad. We don't have other openings at the moment. Are you sure you're not a dancer? Sorry, but your posture is on point."

Rocco moved back behind the bar, clinking some glasses, then joined Bree with a cold glass of tap beer for himself.

"Well, I took gymnastics and cheered back in high school and college." Not to mention she also took pole dance classes for moms when she tried to mend her marital situation with Everett. Trying to spice things up in the bedroom, but obviously, that had failed.

"There you go." The man winked playfully and slid a form across the bar, telling her she should take the job application with her and think about it, all while he told her about the job description and working hours.

"I... I can't. I have a kid. I can't leave her overnight."

Rocco shrugged, telling her there were several women who were also single moms. "All the women here look after each other. I heard something about a babysitting rotation. You can check with them if you're interested. But know this: you get to bring home tips minus the house cuts. And these women take home a lot. I know this because my girlfriend is one of them." He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, making Bree feel more at ease as she started skimming the club's application form.

"You can work three days a week and make more than you would from a nine-to-five desk job each month."

"But I'm not..."

"A whore? Look, Bree, this is a high-end strip club, not a sex club. Have you ever been to a high-end strip club before?"

Bree shook her head, and he continued, "Well, you will earn generous tips by giving a private lap dance, but there's a strict rule on prostitution. Not under this establishment. Why don't you come back later this evening, or tomorrow, whichever works best for you, and see it for yourself?"

"I don't know..."

"You look like you could use a break. With this job, you'll earn more. I'm not trying to sell you the job. You might not even get it if you don't have the moves." He chuckled, and she laughed nervously with him.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I danced."

"It's like riding a bike, right?" He shrugged and took a drink of his beer.

Bree bit her lip as her mind wandered, thinking Rocco might be right. It was easy money, and she needed money. Badly.

"Okay, I'll come again tonight. Will you be here?" Bree drank her soda, looked at her phone, and saw the dreaded text from her kid's daycare informing her that they hadn't received their monthly payment. She was already two weeks late on paying Hazel's daycare, and this job could give her a financial solution, at least until she found a better one.

*Yeah, that sounds better,* Bree thought as she worked out her money situation in her head.

"I will be here. Just tell Elvis you're meeting me later so he doesn't charge you an entrance fee."

Bree had been stressing, looking for the perfect job, trying to find the best one income-wise and one with leniency towards her child. She'd been looking for months, and a few weeks earlier she realized she was struggling to get one. Then when bills started to pile up, the last couple of days she had been desperate for a job.

That afternoon she picked up Hazel with a new hope. Bree paid for her daycare using one of her credit cards, hoping that she wouldn't have maxed it out already. Her shoulders relaxed when the fund was paid successfully. Because if not, she seriously didn't know what to do anymore.

She sighed the second she was in her rundown apartment. The rent was so cheap Bree hoped it wouldn't cause health issues for her and Hazel in the long run. Bree fed Hazel, bathed her, then tucked her little sunshine into bed. Bree let Mrs. Mancini into her tiny apartment when the clock struck eight.

"Have fun on your date, sweetheart. You deserve it."

"I'm not going on a..." But on second thought, it was the perfect excuse. Bree couldn't exactly tell the old lady that she would be checking out the strip club where she was going to work at. "...yeah, I guess you might call it that. Eh... thank you. You have my number. Hazel is asleep. Help yourself to anything in the fridge." Though she only had bread and eggs, it was nice to be polite to everyone, and Mrs. Mancini was kind enough to be doing this for Bree with a rate that was probably the same as decades ago when she was young. Also, Hazel adored her, especially with all the cakes that her next-door neighbor baked for them.

Without further doubt, Bree walked out of her small apartment complex and drove to Babes. Half an hour later, after ten minutes of contemplating her decision, she stepped out of her car. Bree was greeted by Elvis, who smirked at her. Then she smiled back at him, sweetly, and the mustached dude actually blushed, which made her giggle. She walked past the guy into the strip club with a lighter step.

Rocco wasn't lying. The men were far from the ordinary crowd you'd see in movies. Most were dressed in suits, work clothes, and some fine-looking jackets; even their shoes looked expensive. But what threw her into reality was what the women were wearing. She wasn't sure she could flaunt her body like that.

The bartender greeted her the second she reached the bar. Rocco fixed a couple of drinks before he was in front of her and wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh. "So, you're coming back. It's a good start. Let me get my girl." Rocco called out to one of the waiters and said something that Bree couldn't hear over the loud music in the background.

A voluptuous blonde woman appeared and kissed Rocco on his cheek. "Dee, babe, this is Bree, the one I told you about earlier. Why don't you girls talk and let her feel the vibe?"

Bree couldn't stop looking at her sheer outfit. She didn't understand how Rocco was okay with having his girlfriend showing off her tits and ass for all the men at the club.

"Hey, I'm Dee. Look, this may seem a bit overwhelming, but trust me, the money is worth it." She hooked her hand in Bree's arm and pulled her to the end of the bar where they could have a private talk. The single mom was thrown into the situation where Bree was greeted by another stripper with another set of sheer lingerie and glitter platform heels so high she wondered how all these women managed to dance in them.

Bree sat back on the barstool while Dee introduced her to Cassidy, who was a struggling med student determined to pay off her student loans before she started her residency.

"Look, this is the best club in town. If Rocco took pity on you... girl, I say go for it. You'd be paying bills faster than working in a stuffy office behind some desk where you need to kiss ass to get a decent salary." Cassidy blurted out her words, and Dee giggled, nodding along, telling Bree this was the best way in making fast money.

Bree listened while her eyes took in the view: the bright lights, the stage, the intimidating dance poles, and smaller stages with poles in several areas of the floor. Her heart was beating faster, her hands were getting clammy, and her mind went back to Hazel and the bills stacking up on her bedside table.

She groaned and finally took a deep breath before she said, "So, how do I audition?"