Try for a private dance

"To be honest, I think I'd rather do a private dance. I just don't know what to do on stage, and I only have the one outfit, anyway. I'll have to have you show me some moves." she said. "I won't have to... do anything in the private booths, will I?" Faye asked nervously. Tiffany tilted her head, chuckling at the girl's naivete.

"No, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but most girls here will. Word will get around and you won't get many repeat customers. Just go sit at the bar, and see if anyone offers to buy you a drink. That's $10. They'll talk to you for awhile, and if they like you they'll ask for a private dance. Sit on some laps, flirt, and be respectful of the other girl's regulars. Tell them that they get two for the price of one after my next song. That should make for some easy sales."

"O..okay. I'll try." Faye said nervously. Tiffany patted her on the arm, and started to redo her makeup. Faye braced herself, and walked out onto the floor. She felt eyes on her as she walked, both lustful ones from the patrons and suspicious ones from the girls. She brushed a strand of hair over her ear, and made her way to the bar. The bartender was an older woman with stark black hair who wore a loose white shirt that fell open as she worked. Faye guessed she was about 40 or so, and was still in excellent shape. "Probably a former dancer," Faye thought. "I'll have a vodka with cranberry juice." Faye said. The woman looked up, and poured her a ginger ale.

"We can get away with a lot in this bar, but no way are we risking our liquor license, sweety. Nice dance for a first timer. I'm Cynthia." she said, too busy to offer a hand. "Looks like the guy at table 20 has his eyes on you. You going to do private dances tonight?" she asked. Faye turned to see who she was talking about. A very elderly looking man sat with hunched shoulders. He was decently well dressed, and had an aura of sadness about him.

"Yeah... I guess." Faye said, smiling at him. He made a show of putting his wallet on the table.

"Well, then you are losing money sitting here. Go see if he is interested." Cynthia said. Faye blushed, and slid off the bar stool. She sipped her ginger ale as she approached. He stood as she got closer, and pulled a chair out for her. She couldn't help it but take a liking to him. The elderly are always charming when they are being polite. She thanked him, and sat down.

He slid the $10 bill over to her. Faye smiled and held up her hand. "I already have a drink, but thank you." she said. He nodded, and pushed it further toward her. Faye grinned, and took the bill. "Thank you." she said. She offered her hand, which he gently took and shook. "I'm Rose."

He smiled weakly. He had to be in his mid 70's or older with stark, white hair, wrinkled and liver spotted skin, and that certain feeling that he'd shrunk to half his original size. He reminded her a little of Jimmy Carter in appearance. "Paul." he said, holding her hand. It wasn't lustful, but rather gentle; almost like one would hold hands in Church to pray. Faye wondered what a man like this was doing in a strip club. She suddenly felt very sorry for him.

"So what brings you here, Paul?" she asked, still holding his hand. His scarred and spotted skin stood in stark contrast to her alabaster, flawless fingers. He was also, she noticed, wearing a Rolex. He shrugged, and sighed.

"My wife passed three years ago. Its horrible sitting in an empty house, listening to the news talk about how terrible everything is. My sons don't call, my daughter blames me for not doing more to get her mother to quit smoking. All I've got is a sad, old dog that I have to pay the neighbor lady to take on walks since I can't do it anymore. I come here to remind myself that the world is still turning, and its a lot better than sitting in a bingo hall. At least here, I get to talk to pretty girls and hold their hands." Faye blushed, badly, and smiled a genuine smile. She wanted to lighten the mood a little.

"So what's his name? Your dog? Tell me about him." she asked, gently rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. Elderly skin is soft in ways that no other skin is. Its smooth and loose, and she had to admit that if she didn't look at it was pleasant to touch. Maybe she could do this...

His eyes lit up a little bit. People always love to talk about their pets. "Well, HER name is Polly. She a mutt, but definitely has some Corgi in her. She was so young and playful when we got her. Tore the house up!" he said, making a grand motion and smiling. Faye smiled and giggled as he told her about Polly's accidents and adorable moments. She was surprised when she looked up to see Tiffany on stage, already half way through her routine.

"Paul, I... I'm not very good at this. Its my first night, so I don't know how to ask, but would you like a private dance with me?" She felt utterly horrible shattering his illusion, revealing her true intentions. He sighed, aware that his $10 had been spent. "Olivia there will be helping me out, so what do you say? Do you want to see that the world is still turning...with us?"

Paul looked her, and squeezed her hand. "Yeah, but not with that bimbo. Just you." Faye smiled, and quietly panicked. She didn't know what to do, what was expected, or anything really. She looked at Tiffany, who was down on all fours collecting tips. "Well?" he asked.