Uncomfortable

                                    

                                          
💗
                          
I've barely been working here for a day and I've already been put on stage. I was supposed to be a server, but the woman who was supposed to go on, called out sick at the last minute. Then I was forced on.
                          
I know nothing about pole dancing, or stripping. I was just supposed to pass around drinks and sometimes appetizers while wearing some skimpy outfit. The other girl told me, she gets a bunch of tips and doesn't even have to do shows. That was my intention.
                          
Now I stand behind the curtain freaking out because I know when this girl goes off it will be my turn. It's Saturday which means the place is packed. I can barely walk in these high heels and these underwear are riding up my ass. I guess it makes sense though.
                          
Stepping out, I pretend I'm not here and there aren't a bunch of men and the occasional women watching me. This was a bad idea to work here, but I was only supposed to serve food and drinks. I could never do what those girls up there do. The movements of their bodies are equivalent to a sirens call. Fascinating and enticing and something I can't do. But I sure do attempt.
                          
Moving my body against the pole, I try to remember all the erotic things I've seen in my life. The first thing that pops into my mind is the night I had three evenings ago with a certain doctor who gave me multiple orgasms. And when I open my eyes, I see him sitting a few tables away with a group of men. I fall onto my ass.
                          
Quickly playing it off, I stand to my feet and walk to the back, ending my show short. Less than 3 minutes later my boss tells me to go to private room 2. I remind him that I've only been here for a day and that I don't do private shows. He says just make sure they don't touch. If they do I should call for Joe. Today will definitely be my last day.
                          
Some men and women are cut out for this, but I suck at it. It's not me. I need the money, but I don't want to make myself miserable trying to get it. I'll find another job more suitable for me.
                          
After I slip back on my short slip dress, I walk back out through the open area towards the private rooms. I distractedly look for Ashton and begin to think that I only imagined him until I step into the private room and see him leaning back casually in the couch.