A Stripper Named Minnie
This was a quick Flash Fiction piece I submitted. Now, I share it with you all:
Ann inhaled the smoke from her cigarette, feeling it burn lightly in her lungs. She watched the other girls from the cracked door of the club in the locker room as they dressed, getting ready for their sets. The bass from the music reverberated through the building, the ground absorbing the shock of it under her feet. The mist along with the cigarette smoke flowed from her lips as she pulled onto her faux fur coat tighter, feeling the shivers every minute she stood out in the alley on her smoke break. She knew she would hear it from the den mother, Cassandra, about how smelling of smoke was unappealing to the clients of the club. She didn’t care, she needed it. Her nerves were bad, and she was anxious. She wasn’t even sure why, but she felt like something was going to happen to her—something that would change her life. Good or bad, she wasn’t sure. She just felt it in her bones that it was something.
She checked her phone, noting the time. She stamped out the half-smoked cigarette with her 7-inch heels, walking briskly back inside, closing the heavy door behind her. Ann took off her coat and laid it back in her locker. She kissed the photo of her son she kept on the door of the locker before slamming it shut. The only way to close any doors or anything around the club was to slam them, hard. The last time she wasn’t so careful, the girl Philomena decided to teach Ann a “lesson” by taking her earnings. Said it would “teach her to keep her shit locked up tight”. The lesson was learned and Ann moved on. The women in the club were rougher than some men she knew, and she wasn’t much for fighting. She just steered clear of them all.
She went over her look in the mirror by the exit of the locker room, making sure everything was in place. She paid special attention to curl her mousy, brown hair. She had just gotten it professionally washed and straightened a week before but it only lasted a couple of days before it fell flat again. She did her best with her curling rod at home, a little mousse.
Her bra and panty lingerie set she purchased online from a cute site fit her perfectly. She half expected it to because she was so petite, but it held on to every bit of her unmentionables. The navy blue of the lingerie made her skin paler, a stark contrast, one she hoped would make her stand out. The scars on the inside of her right thigh, however, she tried to hide at all cost. Her heels were the highest she could manage without feeling like she was going to topple over, standing at a whopping 5’3. Her steely blue eyes were her best attribute, so she worked them on everyone.
Once she was certain her look was acceptable, she strutted down the hall to the main floor of the club, parting the curtains so she could enter. The main stage was alive with two women gyrating. She stole a boa from her work friend Alexa who was working on two male clients. She knew Alexa wouldn’t mind as Ann worked the floor, eyeing everyone who was sitting in their seats not preoccupied with watching the girls on the stage or wandering around aimlessly, much like Ann.
While she looked around, Cassandra grabbed her elbow, pulling her in close. “We’ve got a gentleman asking for you specifically over in the private suite area.”
Ann leaned back to search Cassandra’s face, trying to see if it was a joke or legit. “A gentleman? Here? I’ve never seen one.”
Cassandra let go of Ann’s elbow, shrugging, her thin lips pursed hard,“No, you wouldn’t have,” Cassandra replied jokingly. “And I don’t know, girl, but he walked in and saw you. Couldn’t take his pretty blue eyes off ya. He wants you, no one else. In the suite,” Cassandra nodded her head in the direction of the private area heavily blanketed by thick velvet curtains.
“Psh, I might have. Just because you say I wouldn’t have doesn’t prove anything,” Ann told the woman as she waved Ann away.
Ann sauntered over to the suite, making her way up the three steps that led to the area. It wasn’t a room, the club owners didn’t want it to be that type of club, they said. It didn’t really matter.
When Ann stepped inside, the gentleman was seated on the couch, his eyes looking down, dark hair shielding them. The light in the suite glowed red, blinking slowly as darkness swallowed him then lit him up again. When he looked up to receive Ann, she felt a jolt of adrenaline course through her, her blood coursing hard in her veins. She let go of the boa, letting it fall to her feet as she stepped up to the stranger.
She greeted him, telling him her stage name, Minnie. He didn’t respond, but she continued to sway to the music, moving in front of him. When she got closer, he finally looked up at her, his eyes catching hers. A frenzy of electricity moved through her as he watched her move, a space of silence between them. When she leaned in closer, pressing her body onto his as he sat, he caught her chin in his hands gently. She allowed it. Then his hands smoothed in between her thighs. Her immediate reaction was to pull back, but she couldn’t. He smiled in her face.
“What are those? Scars?” He asked knowingly.
Ann nodded. Her voice betrayed her.
He grinned, pointy tips meeting his bottom lip in his mouth. “Road maps that lead to you.”
Ann sighed, closing her eyes, feeling his hot breath against the side of her face as he leaned her head away from him. A sharp pain took her before she was lost.
