For the first time, Nate grew a set of balls. He was showing off for his wife. I was impressed. I’d never really heard him raise his voice at anyone. Actually, I didn’t really have a major problem with him until he stupidly started fucking Jen. But then again, why wouldn’t he? They had been friends for years – I mean, good friends. In fact, one night when Jen drove me to work one night after spending some time together, I made mention that I didn’t much care for him. She snarled. Yes, snarled at me. Nate is my best friend. I’ve known him forever. I’d do anything for him. I apologized and explained that I just didn’t feel like he liked me, is all. She softened, offering to talk to him and see what the deal was. I conceded that it was all in my head, just paranoia – no worries.
So on this fine evening when it was just me and them…I felt extremely outnumbered. Maybe this wasn’t the swellest idea. Ya think?
Nate blew up at me. What the hell is your deal, #$%^&*? You’ve walked around here with an attitude ever since Jen started and I’m tired of it. I don’t care what happen between the two of you, you need to get over it. And if you don’t like it, you can leave. No one is keeping you here.
It took me by surprise. His anger was justified, though. I had been walking around with a major attitude and Jen had been trying to subtly appease me in several ways. I needed to grow up. But like hell I was gonna admit that to them now.
Fine! And yeah, I yelled it. It sounded great.
I got up and marched to the door. Just as my hand grasped the doorknob, Jen miraculously found her voice.
Wait. Don’t go. I want you to stay. We can work this out and everything will be fine.
It was easy to see who wore the leather chaps in that relationship. I turned around, amazed that the sense of shock I felt was mirrored on Nick’s face. I wanted to smile. Yeah, that’s right. She said it. She wants me here. So there! But I didn’t say anything. I really was still confused.
Was that guilt I saw on her face? Was it possible? Why was she saving me?
Okay? she said to me. I nodded. Deciding not to tempt fate, I left. And as I did, their argument started. I hate to admit it, but I had an overwhelming sense of satisfaction that I was causing a bit of discord in their relationship. I was being a bitch because I could. But I knew that I had to come to terms with what happen, get over it completely and stop punishing her for the past. And soon. I wasn’t going to get another reprieve like that again.
I felt good as I worked the floor that night. The tension was lifting and I was eager for brighter days ahead – no guilt, remorse, anger. I was in such a good mood that night, that, for some reason I was extra helpful. A guy I had just finished dancing for couldn’t find his keys, realizing this just as we exited the VIP area. I went to the bouncer and we checked the room. Nothing. Being in such good spirits and wanting to be as helpful a little stripper as I could, I thought, hm…perhaps it fell out of his pocket and dug itself into the crevice of the seat.
This next share is for your future protection, if you so happen to have an absolute dumb-ass moment as I did: never, ever, EVER, reach down into the crevice of a VIP seat. In a back room. With a curtain. The word, “don’t” had just begun to creep out of the bouncer’s mouth as I shoved my hand into the darkness. At first, my hand seemed to be swimming in ‘rubberiness.’ Hmph. Weird. A second later, I realized that the ‘rubberiness’ was all wet.
I yanked my hand out so fast, you’d have thought I had stuck it into fire. And, thanks to the astounding number of black lights in the back room, I knew it wasn’t a spilled drink I had touched down there. I held my hand up to my face – my fingertips were glowing.