The Stripper and the Billionaire

Addie

"If it is worth it, it won't come easy."

This was a sentence that made absolutely no sense to me at all. I couldn't help but wonder why one had to suffer to deserve nice things? Why one needed to labour to achieve the finer things in life or merely afford the basic necessities?

Feeding, housing and health? Why? And those who were handed these on a platter of gold effortlessly wasted them?

It made absolutely no sense to me.

But somehow, living in a city as big as Vegas, I'd learn to consider myself lucky to be able afford a roof over my head and have at least two meals a day.

As I walked the streets of Jones Boulevard on a cool Friday evening heading for work, I couldn't help but take pity a homeless woman who took shelter under a tree.

Eight months ago, I was no different from this woman. And now, I was grateful I could afford things this woman couldn't. A job that gave me a roof over my head and food to eat.

I took out my right hand from the thick red blazer I had on and threw in a bill of fifty into the woman's bowl, offered the her a warm smile, and then continued my way through the busy streets.

Jones Boulevard was known for its numerous social activities. Sports clubs, restaurants, nightclubs, everything that served as a means to let go of the stress of the week.

The streets were getting busier with each passing minute, people on dates walking hand in hand, some just out for a walk, and others dressed nicely, probably headed for one of the numerous clubs in the area.

For them, it was the start of a fun weekend. But for me, it was like any other day walking to work. I negotiated a corner and continued my walk to the club, which was about a stone throw from here. The parking lot was already crowded as expected on a Friday night.

I raised my hand, waving to the bouncer of a neighboring club who smiled at me and then continued my way. I turned to the left and then the next minute, I was holding up my purse to the bouncer who had a look at my ID Card before letting me in.

This was an everyday routine, and it became tiring to me, having to present myself every day to the same bouncer. I was quite certain I hadn't changed since the last time I presented herself here, which was not up to twenty-four hours ago.

Music and loud cheering could be heard from inside the club, which could only mean there was a show currently going on. I ignored the loud cheering and whistles and walked to my dressing room.

The door closed behind me, I stripped off my blazer and walked towards the movable wardrobe, picking out a small outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination of perverts.

But hey, club rules.

Holding up two outfits on a hangar, I pondered. I couldn't conclude what to wear. After a while of intense deliberation, I settled for a pink two-piece bikini with fishnets and leggings.

I loathe the colour pink.

Personally, I didn't see the need for this, but if there's one thing I've learnt in over six months of working here, it made the crowd happy and when the crow is happy, more tips for me.

I walked over to her dresser to get started with her make-up. The manager requested that we do a 'full-blown -make-up' which to me, roughly translates to 'hooker' and I hated it. But there wasn't much I could do.