“Forget it!” I snap, as Divan, Daniel, Logan, and three other dancers try to convince me.
“Dude, do you know how much tail you’ll get? How much money you’ll make?” Someone flashes a wad of cash in my face. “You’ll never want to go back to bartending.”
“I’m perfectly happy bartending,” I contest.
“Come on, we’ve all seen you dance. You have moves like Usher, and we know you love it.”
“So fuckin’ what? That doesn’t mean I want to go out there and drop my drawers!”
“Don’t be a pussy.” Divan hassles me.
“This has nothing to do with being a pussy!”
“Look, kid,” Daniel says firmly. “I need you to step up. Just tonight. You’ll never have to do it again if you don’t want to. And hey, maybe you’ll suck, and I won’t want you to. Either way, there’s one more dance left before some poor girl is let down because the deadbeat I hired never showed.”
Oh, way to lay on the guilt by bringing the disappointed girl into it.
I stare at Daniel, wracked with indecision.Can I do this?
I can’t do this.
“I don’t know jack shit about stripping,” I declare.
There’s a roar of laughter in the little room. Divan slaps me on the back. I think there are tears in his eyes. “That’s perfect, man. I know just what we’ll call you. Jack the Stripper.”
“I love it,” Daniel beams.
“I hate it,” I gripe.
“Does that mean you’ll do it?” Logan asks.
I look at the six sets of eyes all glued on me. It feels like all the oxygen has been vacuumed out of the room.
“Come on, you’re leaving us all in suspense,” Divan urges.
I somehow manage to reluctantly nod my head.
Holyshit, what did I just agree to?
“Nice.” Divan claps his hands and rubs them together like he’s about to perform magic.
“You’ve got ten minutes, kid. Get ready,” Daniel announces, then vacates the room.
I sort of just stand there paralyzed as I watch Divan move around. “Okay, okay, what to wear?” He opens a full-length locker and starts pulling out props.
“Whoa,” I interject.
“Whoa, what? You need a costume.”
“No costume.”
“Well you can’t go out there in just your Speedo. You need something to take off.”
My heart starts to palpitate.
“Here.” One of the other guys, Jimmy, I think his name is, tosses Divan a pair of jeans.
“Perfect.” Divan holds them in his hand and ponders for a second. Then he smiles.Oh shit.He opens his locker and pulls out a white tank. “You can rip it off.” He hands me the clothes, and I hold them like they’re foreign objects.