Does she get in? How?

Amanda scurried off, quickly at first, then slower as she tried to adjust to the 'cargo'. She fought back tears at her predicament, her fear of Razor making her breaths shallow.

With her skimpy clothes she drew admiring glances, more than one onlooker noticing the bowlegged walk and thinking 'that girl's been fucked hard recently'.

She muttered address of the place over and over until at last she knew she was on the right street. With increasing urgency and difficulty she waddled toward the correct address, stopping short when she arrived.

"Golden Pole," the sign said, and Amanda gawked at the pictures of mostly naked woman. One partially obscured sign said 'Amateurs and new dancers welcome'.

Gulping she pushed through the door, wondering if she might've gotten the address wrong. Going from the bright daylight to the dimly lit interior nearly had Amanda tripping, but she found her way to a door, opening it and walking toward the blaring music.

"Hey! You think you can get in without paying?" a deep voice demanded, and Amanda nearly lost one of the packets from within. "Yeah, girly, even you need to pay."

"But.. .But I'm here to..."

"Fifty bucks," he said.

"Fifty!"

The big burly man shrugged, his muscles flexing even larger as he did so. He wasn't as intimidating as Razor, but he was possibly a little bigger.

"I... But I'm here to..."

"Fifty," the man said flatly. "Or out you go."

Amanda gulped, digging into her purse to see what she had. She stared at the two twenties as she pulled them out. "I... I only have twenty. I mean, two twenties."

The man snatched them from her hand, looking at them as if they might be fakes. "Fifty's the charge. You need to make up the extra ten."

Amanda stared at him, heart sinking. She knew she didn't want to return to Razor without delivering. She knew that nothing could be worse than that.