The cab ride home was degrading. I was obviously disheveled and looked like I had been treated the way I had. Plus, I was a young woman, holding a wad of cash, staggering out of a luxury home where she had been in the company of a bunch of older men. I felt sure the cab driver, a small Middle Eastern man, knew exactly what I had just done.
The rational part of my brain, almost incapacitated by alcohol, still processed that there was no way he could know. Yet, he continued to look at me in the rearview. We drove on for a while until, unable to contain himself, he spoke.
"What club do you work at?"
"What?" I said.
"What club? Where do you dance? Men's Club, HeartBreakers....XTC?"
He asked the last one hopefully.
He thought I was a topless dancer or worse. That last club he mentioned was totally nude.
"I don't work at a club," I said.
"Oh, you an independent?"
I did not answer as he added, "I like the clubs."
I looked out the window at the lights of passing stores and houses.
"I'm far worse than that," I thought.
He got me to my apartment and I climbed out of the cab.
"That will be seven, twenty-five,' he said.
I was almost oblivious. I was so drunk and tired. I started to peal off a bill, when the driver said, "Give me a little lapdance and I will not charge you."
I handed him a ten and walked toward my front door. I stepped inside and in the cool darkness felt an instant relief. I started across my living room not even bothering to turn on a light and undressed as I went. There were only the two items and in a second I was naked, walking through my apartment. I entered the bedroom and sat on the bed, already feeling a slight soreness from the encounter of the evening, and untied my white tennis shoes. I pulled off my socks and crawled up on the bed. A part of me wanted a shower, but I was so tired, almost numb from fatigue. Before I had time to reconsider I was asleep. The sunlight awakened me. My head was throbbing monstrously and I only moved it because a completely inconsiderate ray of light was shining right into my bloodshot eyes. I felt horrible. As I moved, an achy sensation in my thighs, butt, and between my legs, like I had done about an hours worth of intense aerobics, brought me back to reality. I had done aerobics, and the action of riding on Mike in bed had been work out of a different sort. That simple movement brought back a whole avalanche of recollection and a sense of the most profound embarrassment and regret. Alone in my room it was bad enough. There was still something very abstract about it. I had not considered it yet, but if I had I might have been ill with the potential of seeing physical representation in the form of smiling faces when we ran into each other again.
"At least I won't see Mike again," I thought and as I moved my body sideways on the bed and felt the soreness, was reminded of just how big and vigorous a guy he had been. The sunshine and the recollection of the night before on top of the pounding headache made me slowly sit up. As I did I caught my reflection in the mirror. I looked awful.
My eyes were puffy, and my hair was a wild tangle. From the neck down I was the same girl, from a singular appraisal, though every shift was a reminder that some things had changed for me. I ran my hand through my blonde hair and smoothed it a little.
"What have you done, you fool?" I thought to myself.
Almost as soon as the thought cleared my head, I answered myself with, "You stripped butt naked, and let a bunch of middle-aged assholes get you to put on a sex show."
If I knew I would never see them again it would have haunted me forever, but the prospect of running into them at work, knowing that they had seen what they had, knowing that I had done what I did, was almost too much to bear. They would be insufferable, just from the grinning and looks, and god-help-me the comments. I needed them to keep there mouths shut about what I had done, so I knew I would have to be diplomatic.
"Yeah," I thought, "how has that worked so far?"
My needing them to keep quiet and communicating that without establishing openly how much influence they would now have would be tricky. The last thing I wanted was for them to know how desperate I was to keep my actions a secret.
I stood up and walked into the bathroom. I started the shower and let the bathroom get steamy. I had to work that day after class and I knew there was a good chance they would be at the restaurant. I put that out of my mind and stepped into the warm spray of water indulging in the cleansing pleasure. When I was done I took my time getting ready for school. I blowdried my hair and pulled it back in a ponytail. Looking at my face, I decided not to put on any makeup until I reported for work. I walked out of the bathroom and the shock of the air conditioning on my naked body reminded me of my own anatomy which momentarily brought back a flurry of the last night's exhibition and shame. I stepped over the dresser and grabbed a bra and a pair of panties. It was amazing the effect of simply putting on my underwear had. I was not in the mood to attract attention and I slipped on an oversized grey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. My sunglasses were sitting on the counter and I put them on. The immediate relief from the light was a lovely and a real deliverance. I was ready to head out.
It was humid morning and already kind of warm in the way only the gulf coast can be and I crossed the street to the campus. The effects of the shower were no match for the weather and I was almost sweating by the time I made class. I was early for once and walked into the back of the room where I slumped in a seat and pretended to be invisible. I did not have a lot of time to myself as Dr. Renfro walked in and looking surprised said, "Kim? Are you here early?"
"Uhm, yes sir," I answered.
"Well, I am surprised."
He looked around and since we were alone said, "I reviewed your paper. It was very rough. I will be deciding on a final grade soon, but with the penalty for the other one, I am afraid it will be a D."
"Whatever," I said.
After what I had been through, I couldn't have cared less. Dr. Renfro, however, had no way of knowing and he took my response for one of complete apathy. The class was filing in and I kept on my sunglasses ignoring the looks from some of my classmates. I felt so embarrassed and yet I knew they could not possibly know what I had done. Deep down, I had a suspicion that it would be last real conversation I would ever have with the man and so it really did not matter.
The hour passed and I was time to get back to my apartment to get my belongings together to head over to Hooters. I tossed my items in the gym bag, slipped on a pair of sunglasses and walked outside to the car. I really did not want to go to work. I had twenty five hundred dollars and the thought of calling in sick crossed my mind several times as I drove to the restaurant.
I pulled up to the restaurant and to my disgust saw that the lot was already fairly full.
"How many guys could really like wings?" I thought, knowing the answer was maybe two.
The rest were there for the very thing that had taken me to such a low last night. I got out of the car and walked straight through the doors to the back. Even dressed and looking "not my best" the eyes were all over me. I did not look around, but a subtle glance showed, to my relief, no sign of the party guys. I walked on back to the dressing room and opened my locker. No one was there and I started undressing. In just a few minutes I was completely naked and it dawned on me that this had become my routine. Somehow that fact combined with what I had done the night before made me feel so terribly cheap.
I pulled on my pantyhose and the uniform. Once dressed, I looked in the mirror and realized this would have to be a heavier makeup day. I hated that look, but seeing no choice, I put it on.
I walked out on the floor and immediately felt the attention that had been there when I walked in magnified a hundred fold. I tried to blank it out and immediately took orders. The routine was a help. It put me into a sort of dull state. I could avoid thinking. I smiled, leaned over tables and did the surreptitious bending that elevated tips and basically tuned out.
It would have worked had not the doors opened and the three men who had less than twelve hours before been witness to my most depraved moment, entered. They saw me before I saw them and made a huge point of sitting in my area. When I turned around from taking an order and saw their open brazen grins, my heart stopped. I felt like I was working stark naked and the way they stared, I might as well have been. It was too much.
I barely made it to the bar.
"Cover for me will you?" I said to a new girl and escaped to the back.
I was shaking. I knew even as I was thinking about it, that I could not go back out there. Not even changing I grabbed my bag and slipped out the back door of the restaurant. It was the first time that I had been out in the daylight in my full Hooter regalia and I caught a reflection of myself in a car's windshield. The image was terribly disturbing and made me even more self conscious.
I slipped into my car and drove home. Twice on the ride I realized how I bad the things I had done would be if anyone I knew ever found out. I also found myself struggling with the haunting thought of running into any of those guys out in real life with family or friends. The idea of those smirking, too knowing smiles would be soul crushing.
I arrived at the apartment and literally ran from the car to the front door. It must have been some sight as a young man did a double take as he saw my dash from a distance. Once inside, I stripped off the ridiculous uniform. It was a liberating almost cleansing act and feverishly I pulled down the pantyhose and did not stop until I was completely nude. I paused, feeling completely ashamed.
"What had I done?" I was a nice young woman from a good background and I had allowed myself to degrade for the entertainment of such pigs. I sat down on the couch and allowed the heavy salty tears to fall.
6 months later:
I was walking down the aisle of the Walmart superstore in my workout clothing. I had on a pink pair of sweat pants and a zip up top over a sports bra. I was just doing some basic shopping. I was a poor student again, involved in work study. The fancy apartment and the cool car had been replaced with a micro-efficiency and a beat up sedan. I was hunting for generic macaroni and cheese pre-mix. It was on the bottom shelf and I squatted down to get two boxes.
