Lisa
I met Lisa when she joined the staff at Friday’s as a busser. She was naturally pretty, with long, curly brown hair that was streaked with blonde, grass green eyes and the kind of deep, rich tan that I’d always envied and never been able to replicate without dedicating hours of my life to the tanning bed. She wore very little make-up, but she didn’t really need it. I was a newly-21 waitress, and let me tell you, I loved when Lisa was assigned to my station. She hustled her ass off, cleared the tables fast and ran drinks and food and was generally a pleasure. We worked well together, but she always held herself apart from the rest of us, not cold but just private.
Sometimes she’d have lunch or dinner after her shift and if I was still working, she usually sat in my station. From time to time, an older, handsome, well-dressed man joined her and he always paid with a platinum card and overtipped me embarrassingly. He drank a couple scotch on the rocks, Lisa ate nachos and drank iced tea. It was maybe a $25 check and he always left me $20 or more as a tip. I wondered if he was her dad for a while but I didn’t think so, and I also didn’t ask. Not my business.
One night, Lisa sat in my station alone, and a couple of obviously drunk young guys wandered up to her table as I was punching in another table’s orders.
“Hey,” the blond one said, puffing out his chest and smiling unpleasantly at Lisa, “I know you. You’re Candy.”
“You got me mixed up with someone else,” Lisa replied, cool and fast.
“No. I saw you, last night. You were at the Palomino.” he insisted, and his dark-haired buddy sat down uninvited at Lisa’s table.
“Sorry.” Lisa said, edging into icy, “I don’t know you.”
“Hey, baby, why you wanna act like this? You’re a good dancer. Why don’t you come out and party with us?” The dark-haired guy put his hand on her arm and I could see Lisa tense up. I’d had enough.
“Whoa, guys, the party must have started early. Why don’t I call you a cab?” I smiled winningly and falsely as I sashayed over to the table, standing beside Lisa.
“Piss off. This is a private conversation,” The blond sneered at me.
“Oh, I don’t think so, stud. See, this is my friend. She told you twice she doesn’t know you, and you’re harassing her.” My smile stayed in place, but I used the Death Glare on both of them. Our manager, John, was nearby, and he walked over as the dark haired guy stood up in a threatening way.
“You gentlemen need to head back to your table,” John said, “Or you’ll be asked to leave. If necessary, you’ll be asked to leave in the company of the police.”
“Fine, fuck this place. Let’s go.” The blond huffed, shoving past John. His friend got up to follow him, and John walked them out.
“Jesus, what a night for weirdos,” I said, touching Lisa’s shoulder, “You OK?” She looked up at me and nodded, but she was shaking.
“It always happens eventually,” she said in a flat tone, “I always hope they won’t find me, but they do.”
“Um, Lise? You lost me here, hon. What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
“Shit. Fine, I might as well tell you. Now that those two assholes have ID’d me, more will come,” Lisa sighed, “Look, you heard him call me Candy – that’s the name I use when I’m dancing.”
“Dancing?” I frowned at her, still not getting it. That actually made her laugh a little.
“Stripping, Coco. I work at the Palomino, I take my clothes off to the music, sweaty pricks like those two slip money into my g-string.” I think I stood there with my mouth open for a minute, trying to digest this information. Lisa gave me an inscrutable look.
“Um,” I said, stunning both of us with my insightful commentary. I sat down next to her, fumbling for something to say. “Well, I think we could both use a drink after I finish up, don’t you?” I could see her visibly relax as she gave me a half smile.
“Yeah, that’d be nice.”
So I finished my last couple of tables and did my sidework, and Lisa and I headed out to a little dive bar nearby. She told me about how she’d been out on her own since she was 16 and her stepfather had raped her. How she’d gotten her GED and worked two and sometimes three jobs to afford a crappy apartment. How she’d met a girl who’d stripped and who’d given her a phone number and an introduction, and how the first time she’d done it, she’d thrown up and cried. But the money was so good she’d stuck it out, and now she barely thought anything about it, except nights like tonight, when creeps found her in her real life and thought because they’d given her $5 once, they could put their hands on her any time they wanted to.
“So I’m working on my degree now,” Lisa said, shrugging, “And I figure I’ve got another year and a half swinging on the pole.”
“What in the hell are you doing bussing tables at Friday’s then?” I asked curiously, as we started another round of beers.
“You see how people think they can treat me. When I graduate, I need to have some mundane bullshit to put on my resume when they ask me how I supported myself in school, Coco. Interviewers don’t tend to think of you as a good prospect when they find out you took your clothes off four nights a week for three years.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” I agreed, wondering at the story of this girl I’d barely known at all. Despite my wild ways, I was still pretty sheltered and naive. Lisa didn’t seem to be the type who fit what I thought I knew about strippers, which was, actually, nothing. In fact, I thought what she was doing was pretty amazing. She was strong, smart, funny, determined.
“I should get going. I have class in the morning,” Lisa said at last, and I agreed. As we settled the tab and headed out to the parking lot, she turned to me.
“Hey, I think we’re both off tomorrow night. Do you want to go to dinner or something?” She asked a bit too casually, sounding hopeful, but guarded. Like she expected me to say no, I can’t be your friend, I was just here for the gossip fodder. Like that was how other people had treated her, and recently. I felt suddenly protective of her.
“Sure, sounds fun.” I grinned at her as I scribbled down my number for her, adding jokingly, “Wouldn’t those two jerks be pissed off to know I got a date with you and they didn’t?”
“Now that,” Lisa smiled, “Would be worth tongue kissing you in public to see.”
“You buy dinner then,” I replied snappily, and she laughed.
Part II posts Monday.
Wow! that is some amazing writing… you’ve drawn me in… is this fiction or non-fiction?
KB – This actually happened, but I am working it into a story, so this series is actually my writing exercise.
I need a different name for “myself”, but nothing is clicking. I’m leaning toward Allie.
Ok, I’m hooked! Waiting not so patiently for Monday! Have a great weekend!
I wanted to drop by to say thank you for your support in my Super Heavy Duty Post on Violence Unsilenced. I appreciate it greatly.
Great post! One of my childhood friends did this work in college. She was gorgeous and smart. While I couldn’t wrap my mind around it at the time, I now realize she did what she had to do to achieve her goals. She’s successful and happy today and not ashamed of how she paid her way through school.