I order ten lemon pepper wings, two beers, and a slice of apple pie. Nikki wishes me well and scampers away to enter my order. I check my phone and find no missed calls or text messages, feeling more like a failure by the second. I’m drawing a blank on my next move, a consequence of putting all my eggs in one basket. The Dj announces a buy one get one on lap dances, causing a mini stampede of drunk and horny men to engage their most primal desires in a frantic race to find their favorite dancer. I notice Amy about five feet from my table, apprehensive about what’s going on, and I can’t say I blame her.
“Hey, Amy,” I call out. She turns and looks at me, and I swear for a second she’s gonna run away. “I’ll take the two for one if you just sit and keep me company, no dancing. It’ll be the easiest twenty bucks you’ll make tonight.”
She ponders my offer for a second before agreeing with me and taking a seat.
“You lost the hospital band,” she says, motioning to my wrist.
“Yeah. As it turns out, it’s a conversation starter for all the wrong reasons.” Amy laughs at this, the weirdness of the other night melting away faster than the ice in the drinks from the bar. “You still trying to find your footing here?”
“I actually put my two weeks in last night. This just isn’t my thing … being used as an object in someone else’s fantasy and then giving half my money away. At least as a waitress, I have managers that get rid of the creeps.”
“I could see that.”
“But you still come here?”
“Point taken, but it’s not what you think. First time I met you, it was my sister that dragged me here. She was the one determined to hook up with your cohorts. Tonight, I’m trying to find her, but she’s not here. I’m just waiting on my food and then I’ll head out. Strip clubs aren’t my thing.”
“You seem different than the rest of guys that come in here.”
“Was that a compliment? Can I record it as a voice memo in my phone? You can’t be the same girl from the other night.”
“It’s easier to be yourself when there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”
This resonates with me, but telling her that would lead to more questions I’m not in the mood to answer.
Nikki comes back with my order and chastises Amy for wasting her time while there was easy money to be made. I slide a bill across the table in a dramatic fashion, and Nikki takes the hint and disappears. The Dj introduces Harmony and the place erupts. T-Pain has been replaced with Kanye West, and she struts out to the keys of ‘Blood on the Leaves.’ Like the other night, I’ve heard the song before, but seeing her routine in sync with it feels like I’m hearing it for the first time again.
But, something is amiss. She seems disinterested, like she’s going through the motions. Not that the guys lining the stage could tell, as they take turns throwing cash in the air.
“Seems like a different girl tonight,” I say aloud.
“She’s dealing with stuff in her personal life, poor girl,” Amy explains. “Some guy she was crushing on left her hanging. To be honest, I’m surprised she’s even here tonight.”
I take a drink and ponder this. Harmony didn’t seem like the type to bring her personal life to work. From what Lily told me, and my own experience with her, she seemed completely detached from her line of work.
“You think I’m not cut out for this? She really doesn’t belong in this line of work, but she’s mastered the art of balancing who she really is and who she has to be here.”
Something about that makes me stop eating, the hunger for an explanation superseding the one for food.
“She didn’t talk much during our conversation. I figured it was part of her persona.”
“You’re not wrong, but getting to know her like I have, the person behind the mask is the real gem.”
We watch her routine in silence for a little bit. Like the other night, she times her descent down the pole with the bass drop, and dollar bills fly through the air like they came out of a machine. One guy in particular is trying his damnedest to stand out, throwing wads of cash so aggressively it comes off as demeaning. Harmony crawls over and once she’s close enough, he throws a stack of bills right in her face, slapping hands with his boys in celebration as she picks it up and saunters off stage. Seeing that takes my appetite, and I push my food away,
“Since we’re talking, I can tell you that she convinced me you weren’t a creeper.”
“Really?”
“I guess she caught you after the liquor set in and you’d mellowed out a bit. Told me you were going through some things, but that you were one of the good ones.”
“Is there such thing as a good one in a place like this?”
“You’d be surprised how many of them are decent guys just looking for an escape from everyday life. Some are emasculated in their personal lives and are just looking for a place to be appreciated. This business is an exercise in contradictions.”
Amy tells me she’s due on stage soon, wishes me luck and disappears into the crowd, leaving me alone in my thoughts. I sit for a long time, drinking my frustrations away while men live out their most erotic desires around me, and all I can think about is Melody.
My whole life I’d played it safe, chasing security and convincing myself that I was living. But it was all a facade, an illusion created to mask my fear of rejection, giving just enough of myself to bring the people I loved into my orbit but still keeping them at arms length. I’ve window shopped my emotions, glancing at the ones I want but never committing to them. Melody pushed me to embrace emotions I’ve wanted my whole life, and I did. But they hit with such force, rattling my core and fostering the same fear that had wrecked my marriage and any other relationship I’d cared about. I’ve never been content with just running away, that was too easy. I had to burn it down on the way out, a defense mechanism developed to protect myself from the temptation to make things right. I could’ve just told her I wasn’t ready, leaving the door open to reconciliation. But I chose the word distraction, knowing it would extinguish our flame that was burning out of control.
It had come so easy to me because it always worked. But, this week I found that it wasn’t as effective as I thought. Lily and my mother are examples of that. Two relationships left for dead, yet resurrected over the span of two days. Not because of luck, but because it’s what we wanted all along. Our feelings for people we truly care about don’t have an expiration date.
I can only hope that what Melody felt was real enough for her to let me explain. My phone buzzes in my pocket. Excitement rushes through me as I fumble around in my pocket trying to find it.
It’s Lily, and though she won the coin toss, my heart drops because it’s not Melody.
“Lily, Lily can you hear me?” I yell into the phone.
“Miles, where the fuck are you?”
“I’m at Rouge, looking for you. Hold on.” I race from my seat, dodging dancers and customers on my way to the restroom. “Hold on, Lily,” I say again, before I come face to face with Harmony. I move left and she follows, blocking my path. I go the other way and she follows, never breaking eye contact.
“Can you, like, move out of the way?” I ask. She doesn’t budge, instead just stands there, eyes glued to me. “I don’t want a dance from you right now.”