The Gold Dollar Girls: Lady's Night

Clover jammed her toast into her egg yolk, raised it to her mouth and took a big bite.

Roxanne watched her over the top of her glasses. "Jesus Christ," she said, "You've got egg running down your chin."

Clover stuck out her tongue and tried to lick up the yolk.

"Have you ever heard of a napkin?" Roxanne asked, "You look like you just blew Homer Simpson."

"You look like Milhouse," Clover said, while giving her the finger. "So where the fuck is Misty? It's almost three AM. I don't know about you, but after a shift on the pole, I want to go home and get some sleep."

"Oh bullshit. You're going to eat a bag of Cheetos and watch Real Housewives until the sun comes up."

"You know, you could be on one of those shows, except you never kept a man long enough for a whole season."

"I heard you were going to be cast on Real Housewives of the Trailer Park."

"Fuck. That would be a good show."

Roxanne nodded thoughtfully. "I'd watch it."

"Anyway, where the fuck is Misty?"

Roxanne ate the last bite of her BLT. "She was having some trouble with her girlfriend, so she said she might be a while."

"They probably made up. We're here waiting and they are off someplace muff diving."

"Good for them if they are," Roxanne said.

"What I don't get is why a hottie like Misty is going with a woman who is like, twenty years older than her."

"She's not that old. Ten years older maybe."

Clover shook her head. "I'm ten years older than Misty, but I look younger than her girlfriend."

"Fat women don't get as wrinkled."

"Shit, when you tell people you are a Gold Dollar girl, they think you mean you were one of the Golden Girls."

"Bitch, you watched that show when it was new."

Clover gestured toward the diner's door. "Here comes Misty now."

Roxanne looked over her shoulder. She smiled as Misty strutted toward them. She admired her self confident attitude. She was certainly the best looking girl at the Gold Dollar, and the best dancer, but she never presented any air of superiority. She never had to.

Misty slipped into the booth beside Clover. The waitress came to the table and poured her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Mildred," Misty said, then turning to the others, "So, how did you guys do tonight?"

"Not bad," Roxanne said, "I went private with Tommy Toupee. So that was good."

"He's a whale," Misty said with a nod.

"Yeah," Clover said, "Maybe he ought to spend a little bit less on tipping strippers and buy a better fuckin' wig."

"How did you do, Clov?" Misty asked.

Clover shrugged. "I did okay. I had those two brothers. It's like a sibling rivalry or something with them as to who gets the most attention. And speaking of attention, what's the big deal you wanted to talk about?"

Misty cleared her throat and took a sip of coffee before answering. "Well, you know, I've tried to get Tony to agree to have a lady's night..."

Clover groaned. "Oh, not this again."

"I know you don't like the idea."

"I don't like not getting paid. Women don't tip."

"They don't tip you," Roxanne muttered.

"Bullshit," Clover snapped. "They come in, giggle with their girlfriends, spend all their money on foo-foo drinks and go home."

"That might be what straight women do," Misty said, "A lesbian audience would be different."

"So you aren't just talking about a lady's night," Roxanne, asked, "But about a lesbian night?"

"Well, not technically, but that would be the clientele we would shoot for."

"And you think you've got the connections to bring them in?"

"I think I do," Misty said.

"So what did Tony say?"

"He agreed that we could do it on a Sunday night, if I could get five girls, and my own bartender and security."

Clover snorted, "So he gets five girls to pay fifty dollars each in club fees on a night the joint is usually closed, plus whatever drinks get sold, and he doesn't have to pay any staff. No wonder he said yes."

"Well, I'm in," Roxanne said, "But that's only two of us. And what are you doing about staff?"

"I've got friends who are going to tend bar and work the door. And I've got a DJ."

"Oh my god," Roxanne exclaimed, "So we can dance to something besides dad rock?"

"Hey, I like that stuff," Clover growled.

"That's because you're old and you look like someone's dad. But Misty, you still need dancers. Did you ask any of the day shift girls?"

"Yes. None of them were interested. But my DJ knows a couple of girls who dance in clubs she plays at that are willing to come."

"So you just need one more."

"Yeah."

Clover looked from Roxanne to Misty. They were both staring at her.

"Ah, fuck me," she said.

"I will if that's what it takes," Misty said.

Roxanne leaned forward and in a low, gentle voice said, "Clover, does the idea of being in a room full of queer women bother you?"

Clover shook her head vigorously. "No, not at all. Like I said, it's the money. I don't think you will get many customers, and the ones you do won't tip."

Misty put her hand on Clover's shoulder. "How about if I pay your club fee for you? That way, you've got nothing to lose. After a while, if you don't think it's worth it, you can just go home."

Clover stared out the window and didn't respond. Roxanne looked at Misty and shrugged. She decided to change the subject.

"So, what's up with you and Carmen?" she asked.

Misty sighed. "That's over and done with. I just went by her house to drop off some stuff she left at my place."

"Stuff like sex toys?" Clover asked.

"Hell, no. I'm keeping them."

They all laughed.

"Anyway," Misty said, "There is this amazing girl at school that I've been talking to. Her name is Maya."

"Is she Mexican?" Clover asked.

"No. She's Black. Why would you think she's Mexican?"

"I thought Maya was a Mexican name."

"I thought Clover was something horses eat," Roxanne said.

"And I thought Roxanne was French for cumslut."

"Roxanna was Alexander the Great's wife," Misty said.

"And he wasn't Mexican, in case you were wondering," Roxanne said, "So what's the deal? Are you in or not?"

"Okay," Clover said, "But I'm only doing this for Misty. And if Tony decides to make this a regular thing, count me out."

Misty draped her arm over Clover's shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. "It's going to be fun, I promise."

****

Roxanne felt very unglamorous when she walked into the Gold Dollar and saw the two women sitting at the bar. They looked like they had just come from the salon; their hair and makeup were immaculate. She was no fashion expert, but she guessed they were both wearing Armani.

She was in denim cutoffs, and a Beach House concert t-shirt. At least she was wearing her brand new red sneakers, that was some small consolation.

The women turned to look in her direction. She stepped toward them and said "Hi, I'm Roxanne. You must be our guest dancers for tonight."

The women introduced themselves as Annika and Star.

"You dance here regular?" Annika asked.

"Yeah, I do," Roxanne replied. She thought she sensed some condescension in the tone of Annika's voice.

"You make much money?" Star asked.

Roxanne shrugged. "It's a living."

Annika looked around the club disparagingly. "Yeah, I suppose," she sniffed.

Star nodded. "Yeah. Have you seen the dressing room? Jesus."

Sherry, the club manager, came out of the backroom behind the bar, interrupting Roxanne's fantasy of slapping the expressions of pity off their faces.

"Hey, Roxy," she said, gesturing to a short, chunky woman tagging along behind her. "This is Jo. She's our bartender tonight."

Jo gave a finger wiggling wave and said, "Hi, nice to meet you." She seemed to mean it.

"You hanging around tonight?" Roxanne asked Sherry.

"Nope. As soon as Misty gets here I am handing her the keys and heading home."

"You gonna give her your stun gun too?"

Sherry scowled. "I seriously doubt that it's going to be that kind of crowd."

"I wasn't thinking about the crowd, I was thinking about Clover."

Sherry stepped out from behind the bar and pulled Roxanne away from Annika and Star. In a low voice, she said, "I don't even know if she's going to show up."

"I think if she wasn't coming, she'd have called me to bitch about it."

"Well, maybe. It might be better if she doesn't show." She tipped her head toward the bar. "I don't think she's going to get along with the Plastics over there."

"Yeah. Who decides to call themselves Star, anyway."

"People who think they are stars."

There was a bright flash of early evening sun as Misty came into the club. She held the door open and a woman entered, toting a large case in each hand. She was at least six feet tall. Her blonde hair was cropped close and she wore cargo shorts and a Gold's Gym tank top. By the way her shoulders and biceps bulged from her heavy load, it was obvious that the shirt was not just a fashion statement.

Another woman followed her. She was wiry and wore a black vinyl vest and pants. Her scalp was clean shaven. In place of hair, she wore an elaborate tattoo of flowering vines.

Misty showed them to the DJ booth, then came over to Roxanne and Sherry.

"Does that chick know how hot she's going to get in that vinyl outfit" Roxanne asked.

Misty shrugged. "She can always take it off."

Sherry handed Misty a set of keys. "Okay, honey, I'm sure you'll be fine," she said, "But call me if you have any problems."

"Thanks, Sherry."

"Do not call Tony."

"Oh, don't worry about that."

Sherry fetched her purse from behind the bar and left.

"I'm going to go change," Misty told Roxanne, "Can you keep an eye on things out here for a few minutes?"

"Sure."

Misty greeted Annika and Star and led them to the dressing room.

Don't let the roaches crawl up your coochies, Roxanne thought as she watched them go. She went behind the bar and poured herself a glass of ice water.

Jo, at least, seemed friendly. She was smiley and bubbly. Roxanne felt an urge to pinch her cheeks.

"This is going to be fun," she said.

"I hope we do well enough to make it worth your while."

"I think it will be great. Star has, like, eight thousand followers on her OnlyFans and she's been telling them about it."

"Oh, cool," Roxanne said. She was skeptical. She didn't figure that many of those followers were really lesbians. Most of the ones who claimed to be were probably men.

She drank her water, than wandered over to the DJ booth. The vinyl clad woman was inside, setting up her equipment. The big woman stood in front of the booth, watching her.

As Roxanne approached she turned to face her, looking up and down her body. This chick is checking me out, she thought.

The woman smiled, and the stern expression on her face brightened. She held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Lenore. I'll be working the door tonight."

"I'm Roxanne." They shook hands and Lenore seemed to hold on for just a few extra seconds.

"Hi," the DJ said, "I'm Astrid. Hey, do you think it's okay if I take down this 'no requests' sign. I'm happy to do requests."

"Sure," Roxanne said, "I think someone put that up as a joke. We have never had a DJ as long as I've been here. They just play mix CDs."

"Okay. Anything particular you want me to play?"

Roxanne shook her head. "As long as it's not Lynyrd Skynyrd, I'll be a happy girl."

"Goddamn, look at this smokin' bitch," Astrid said.

"Which one?" Lenore replied, grinning at Roxanne.

Misty was strutting across the room toward them, in a deep blue spandex miniskirt, strapless bra and thigh high boots.

Goddamn is right, Roxanne thought. "Shit, Misty," she said, "Where did you hide those keys?"

"I gave then to Jo. Listen, Roxy, I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I don't think you ought to wear your schoolgirl outfit tonight..."

"Schoolgirl outfit?" Lenore interjected, "I'd like to see that."

Misty nodded. "Yeah, she looks great in it, but with this crowd..."

"I get it," Roxanne said, "Kind of politically incorrect."

"Yeah, I think so," Misty said.

"Sure, no problem."

"Okay. Well, we are opening the doors in ten minutes, you better go change. No sign of Clover yet?"

"Nope."

Annika and Star came out of the dressing room and mounted the stage, taking the two center poles. Another thing to piss Clover off, Roxanne thought.

"Holy shit," Misty said, "I think they spend as much on their outfits as I do on tuition."

Star was wearing a gold chain skirt and halter. Annika had on a gem studded leather camisole. They both wore nine inch platform pleasers.

"If they aren't careful they are going to bang their heads on the ceiling," Roxanne said.

She headed toward the dressing room, watching the two of them do stretching exercises on the stage. Halfway across the room, she heard Misty call to her. She looked over her shoulder.

"This means a lot to me, Roxy," Misty said, "Thanks."

Roxanne smiled. Lenore was standing next to Misty, her hands on her hips. She was unapologetically staring at Roxanne's ass.

"Oh, no problem," Roxanne said, "I definitely think this is going to be fun."

****

Clover sat in her car and slurped the last of her Cherry Coke Big Gulp. There were about a dozen vehicles parked near the club. She recognized Roxy's and Misty's cars. Probably another four or five were the guest dancers and staff. The rest would be customers. She didn't want to go in until there was enough of a crowd that she wouldn't attract much attention.

She texted Roxanne. on my way good crowd?, but got no reply. She must be on her pole already, she assumed.

There was a loud roar from the street. She looked in her side view mirror and saw motorcycles, four of them, pulling into the lot. They veered around the potholes and pulled up near the building. All four riders, plus one passenger, were wearing leather jackets with back patches reading "Dykes on Bikes."

Cool, Clover thought, at least they won't all be glamor bitches tonight.

The bikers went inside. She waited a couple of minutes, then followed them.

A big burly chick with a blonde crewcut and arms like Serena Williams was working the door.

"Good evening," she said, "There's a five dollar cover charge tonight."

"I work here," Clover said.

"Oh. I thought all the dancers were already here."

"You can ask Misty," Clover replied, walking past her.

She had been right; besides the biker babes, who were congregating at the bar, there were only half a dozen customers, sitting at two tables. They were all watching two new girls on the middle polls.

One of them was hanging upside down at the very top of her pole. Jesus, she thought, where did Misty find these chicks? Vegas? She was more sure than ever that she wasn't going to make any money off of Lady's Night. Not with that kind of competition.

The music was some sort of techno-disco-house-something or other. It was loud and the bass thumped so hard that she could feel it in the pit of her stomach. Could shit get any more annoying?

She was glad to see that Roxanne and Misty were on the other two poles. There was no room for her and that was fine. Maybe she could just hang out at the bar all night.

The dressing room table was cluttered with makeup and perfume, hair brushes and cans of hair spray. She got her own things from her locker and cleared space to prepare to go on the floor. After applying her makeup and brushing her hair, she sat back and stared at herself in the mirror.

She felt like she wanted to cry. The only reason she had shown up was because she thought the world of Misty. No one had ever treated her so kindly. If she had not come, she was afraid she could lose her friendship.

"Just deal with it," she told herself.

She changed into her blue mesh dress and zipped on her pleasers, then checked herself in the mirror. She sucked in her stomach, held it a moment, muttered, "Fuck it," and let it back out.

When she stepped back out to the floor, she was surprised to see that while she had been changing, the joint had been filling up. At least half the tables were occupied, and there was a good size crowd milling around the bar.

There was also an empty pole. One of the out of town hotshots was missing, probably in a private room. Misty was on the first pole. Reluctantly, she climbed the steps and joined her.

Misty smiled when she saw Clover come on stage. She interrupted her dance and put her hand on her shoulder. Leaning in close enough to be heard, she said, "Thank you, sweetheart, I'm glad you're here."

Clover grunted something in return and went to the next pole. Misty figured that once she started dancing Clover would lighten up. Dancing was always exhilarating, in her experience. The presence of an appreciative audience was a definite bonus, but the pleasure of her own body in motion was its own reward.

Dancing for a crowd of women was even more exciting. The atmosphere in the room was different from anything she had experienced before. The audience was boisterous, but not in the explosively rowdy way that men often were. The mood was less filled with sexual tension, it was joyous, celebratory.

As she spun on her pole, she saw a rather proper looking middle aged woman approach the rail. She strutted toward her and showed her a few choice hip moves.

The woman held out a bill.

Misty squatted down in front of her and leaned forward, expecting her to stuff it into her bra. But the woman surprised her. She reached under her skirt and slipped the money into her thong.

Misty dropped to her knees and snapped the fastener on her bra. She cast it to the back of the stage, then squeezed her tits together. Another woman came to the stage, draped her arm over the first woman's shoulders and stuck a couple of bills into Misty's cleavage. The two women laughed and scampered back to their table.

Misty dropped the cash at the back of the stage and returned to her pole. The audience continued to grow. She and Roxanne had almost as many women watching them as Star did. When Annika returned from her private dance, she gave her pole over to her and crossed to the bar to check on how things were going.

"I'm glad you're here," Jo shouted, "I'm a little swamped."

Misty pitched in and helped her put out drink orders until she got caught up. Tony's going to be happy, she thought. Maybe this could become a regular thing.

She checked with Lenore, who assured her that everything was under control. As she made her way back toward the stage, someone waved to her from one of the tables. When she approached, she saw a group of women she knew from her college.

"Hey, how is everybody doing?" she asked.

"Great," one of them said. Misty thought her name was Denise, but wasn't sure. "I mean, this is lit, but that one dancer, in the middle, she's just like...kind of a bummer."

Misty looked to the stage. Clover was standing with one hand on her pole, barely swaying her hips and staring off into space.

"Yeah, she's not feeling well," Misty said.

"Well, it's kind of, you know, spoiling the mood," one of the other women said.

Misty nodded. "Okay."

No one was in front of Clover's pole. She went over, lifted herself on to the stage, and stood up, facing Clover.

"What's up?" she asked, "Are you okay?"

Clover looked distressed. "Nobody is even watching me."

"Well, honey, you aren't giving them much of a show."

Clover scowled, huffed out a deep breath and said, "Ah, fuck this." She turned and stalked off the stage.

Misty hesitated a second, then followed her.

"What the fuck is going on with Clover?" Roxanne asked as she passed her.

"I don't know," Misty said, "But she's pissing people off."

Roxanne followed Misty to the dressing room. Clover was sitting, her arms crossed in front of her, staring into the mirror.

"Charlene, what's going on?" Misty asked. Roxanne was surprised that Misty had used Clover's real name in the club. That was taboo. She figured Misty must be more upset than she appeared.