What do you say?

"...stripper"

Marv chuckles, shrugging. "So few do, you know? Not exactly on the short list of jobs for young girls."

"I... yeah, I guess..." you say. Better to not get into the fact that you never were a little girl.

"You have a few hours before your shift starts. Tell you what. Head to the mall and see Cherie at the salon there. We have an understanding. She can do something about your hair," Marv says. "Makeup too. And maybe you should pick up some better clothes."

Looking down at yourself and rubbing your buzzed hair, you suddenly feel self-conscious about both. How the hell had you left the house like this? "Right," you say. You head out of the club and catch a bus to the mall, following Marv's instructions.