The girl is plain. She has no distinguishing marks or anything outstanding about her. Her hair is mousy, eyes hidden behind wire rimmed glasses, clothing mundane. The only thing that is extraordinary about her is how well she simply blends into the crowd, not drawing any attention to a mouse such as herself.
But the girl isn't always like this. At night, she comes alive. All timidness melts away. It's the same thing every time she dances. She stumbles up on stage and freezes. For a minute, the parts of the crowd who haven't seen her act before, figure she's some unlucky girlfriend who got lost on the way to the bathroom. Then the music starts and they realize this is no mistake. Her jacket falls like a lead weight to the stage and she begins to dance in a matronly outfit. The glasses come off next, and then her hair comes down from the coil. Her body is remarkable, moving in serpentine motions, thrusting and dipping. But no one knows about this stage persona. Especially not her husband.
Its Friday night. He's supposed to be doing reports at the office...she's supposed to be volunteering. This is how they live their lives. In ignorance. She takes the bus downtown, getting off a block from her destination. Slipping down the streets, she takes tiny steps, she's more in her mind than in this world. The metal backdoor is closed and she taps once. Twice. Rocco, the hulking bouncer, lets her in. "Heya, doll." He purrs in that way that makes electricity dance up her skin. Her husband never speaks to her like that. The girl is on next and she slips, still in shadow form, through the velvet curtain and up beside the DJ booth.
Janie the Candy striper is just finishing her act. The men love her. She looks like she's 15 though her real age is somewhere around 21. She's paying her university tuition doing this. One day, she wants to be a Doctor. Now she's prancing around on stage wearing a cardboard nurse's hat and white satin pumps. The music fades and it's the girl's time to shine.
