As I was leaving work yesterday, I told C.D. that I was bummed about having to go to work at my second job. Stunned she asked in amazement what my second job was, having never heard about it and wondering what kind of friend wouldn’t know about my second job. I hung my head and scuffed the toe of my shoe on the concrete, as I am known to do, and told her that it was too demeaning to talk about. She said that I couldn’t stop there because now I had her intrigued. So, I looked around to make sure nobody was listening and told her that I was a dancer at the “Dirty Sock,” a strip club on the outskirts of town.
She laughed and said that was a gentleman’s club. The only dancers there were women. I said that Wednesday is “Ladies Night” and they have men dancing on that day. For the first time I saw doubt and wonder cross her face, trying to calculate the chances that this was true.
She said, “Are you kidding me?” To which I replied, “I had to earn a little extra money to help put my wife through college. The move from my last job to this one forced me to take a pay cut and I needed to supplement my income. I hate it but I make good money, and I only have to work one night a week. It is just so demeaning. I feel so dirty having to do it.”
I could still tell there was a strand of doubt running across her mind. She smiled and said, “Okay then what is your character / costume?” Without hesitation I answered, “A computer geek. It is what I know. I have the thick glasses, pocket protector, and everything. My music is ‘I’m Too Sexy’.”
At around 6 that night she called me to tell me something and asked if she was interrupting my dancing, still trying to catch me in a lie. I calmly said that it was okay because I didn’t go on until 7. Then this morning she asked me how much money I made last night. To which I immediately turned bright red and said that that information was personal and I really didn’t want to discuss it.
She may try to act like she is confident that there is no way I am a dancer, but I secretly think she still wonders. Could it be possible that this seemingly unadventurous, nice, clean guy really lives a double life? Could there be a world out there on Wednesday nights that I just never found out about? I know his wife is in college and he had to take a pay cut, so is it possible that he is really forced to such extremes to survive?
Well, now I bet you are wondering too.
