Stripper

The woman handed John a resume. Her name was Cynthia Robins, and she was 27.

"So, Cynthia. I notice no engagement or wedding ring, so you're single?"

"If it's any of your business, I'm single. I was engaged, but broke it off." She wasn't sure why she was telling this.

"Tell me why you broke it off."

"I told my fiancé no strippers or strip clubs for his bachelor's party, but he and his friends got drunk, went to a strip club, and posted photos of it."

"Ah, come with me," said John. He led Cynthia through the first bar and into a second one. This one had a stage, DJ booth, and stripper pole.

"What kind of place is this?"

"It's a place where you can let your hair down and see what's it's like to shake your money maker and act like a woman men like your ex lust after." As soon as John said that, Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me started to play, and a voice said "Give it up for Cindy!"

Cynthia found herself climbing up on stages. She started to sway then strutted down the stage as she let her hair down. She shook her hair loose then ripped her skirt, which for some reason was held on by a strip of Velcro. She had on a bright red g-string. She then took off her sweater and blouse to reveal no bra.

"Yeah, I bet a lot of men would love to see a woman dressed like a sexy librarian take the stage and let her inner slut out!" called John.

Cindy grabbed the pole and started rubbing her crotch on it. "How much does this pay?"

"What you earn in tips and in the VIP room."

"The VIP room?"