"That was a good show," Rodney shouted as I walked off the stage and brushed past him. Rodney was somewhat of a regular up in the club.
I stopped briefly and smiled. "Thank you," I replied and continued on my way. I got dressed, counted my money, and headed out the dressing room.
Rodney was sitting at the bar when I walked back past. "Pure," he called out. Not only was that the nickname Benny and her girls had given me, but it was now my stage name too. I turned around. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked almost in a begging manner.
I really didn't feel like being bothered with Rodney on a personal level, but I wasn't up to going to Benny's and listening to her and Sticky fussing and fighting all night about me. "Sure, why not," I answered and took a seat on the bar stool next to him.
At first just dropping in here and there, Rodney was becoming a regular at the club. He made sure he never missed one of my shows and he kept my g-string laced with money. He was always requesting lap dances from me, which made the other strippers envy me. Rodney's paper was long and he paid well. Once he offered me a thousand dollars to have sex with him, but I couldn’t see selling myself for money. If I hadn’t learned anything else in life, I did know that my body was worth way more than what he was offering.
Word on the street was Rodney was some big time lawyer who represented numerous celebrities, big time ballers, and others that lived the elite lifestyle. He was nice and all, but he gave me a messed up feeling every time I was around him; kinda like the one John used to give me.
When I danced on stage, I would look out in the audience at Rodney and he would have this desperate look in his eyes, almost as if he was hypnotized by me. It was sort of frightening. Not to mention the weird noises he made when I gave him lap dances. He would whimper like a lost puppy and try to hump me while I danced, throwing my rhythm off at times. It was embarrassing to have him acting like that. The only thing that kept me from slapping Rodney across the face was the money he would hand me after every lap dance. The only thing I stayed focused on was the almighty dollar.
Two hours later, I was quite tired and tipsy. The bar was closing, so I thanked Rodney and stood up to leave.
"Can I give you a ride?" he grabbed my arm and asked.
"No thanks. I only live around the corner," I slurred, snatching my arm from his grasp. "I can take the short cut through the alley behind the club and I'll be home in no time."
Rodney stood from his seat. "Let me pay you to spend the night with me," Rodney said with that same desperate look that gave me the creeps every time I saw it.
No this joker didn't just go there. I am not Demi Moore and he damn sure ain't no Robert Redford, so he can save the Indecent Proposal approach. " Rodney, I told you before that I'm not into selling my body," I said as kindly as possible, hoping he'd understand that I did have some self respect, even though I was shaking my tail feather in a strip club for a living.
"Well, let me get it for free," he had the nerve to say. "And if I don't make you feel good, I'll pay you the money after we finish."
Rodney's words made me feel dirty and disrespected. I tried to keep my composure but couldn't. "Joker, if you don't get yo’ funky butt up outta here, talkin’ mess. Now I done told you once I don't have sex for money. If you can't understand that, I don't know what else to tell you," I shouted. I caught the attention of Amir, one of Benny's bouncers. He ran over to see what the commotion was about.
"You alright, Pure?" Amir asked me while glaring down Rodney the entire time.
"Amir, get this fake Billy Dee Williams wanna be up outta my face," I ordered.
Amir grabbed Rodney by the arm and escorted him to the exit. “Oh, it’s like that?” Rodney spat at me. While looking over his shoulder at me he mouthed, "It ain't over."
After Amir made sure Rodney was good and gone, he walked back over to me. "You sure you okay?" he asked, moving the other strippers who came to check on me out of his way.
"I’m fine," I replied. "I'm about to go on home."
"You need a ride?" Amir asked me.
"I'm cool. I'm not thinkin’ about Rodney," I said in an invincible tone. I smiled at Amir and headed toward the exit.
"Pure," Amir called out. I turned around to face him. "Be careful," he said. I smiled again and headed out the door.
As I walked down the half dark alley. I started getting paranoid while replaying Rodney's words. I picked up my pace. As soon as I walked past an abandoned garage, something told me to look back, and when I did, I saw the silhouette of a man. I took off running and so did he. Right when I thought I was getting away, he took a dive and knocked me to the ground.
"I told you it wasn't over," Rodney said as he climbed on top of me and tried to choke the life out of me. He began beating me upside my head until I was nearly unconscious. I laid with my eyes glued shut, hoping he would stop hitting me. Rodney must have thought I was dead because he loosened his grip from around my neck and ripped off my shorts. What luck; for the third time in my life, a man chose to take what I wanted to keep. I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be dead as Rodney talked to me.
"See, all you had to do was let me pay you for this stuff, now I'm gettin’ it for free, you stingy broad. I’m tired of you hoes always tryin' to keep this stuff all to yourselves," Rodney said as he foamed at the mouth.
Rodney began pounding my insides out while making that annoying whimpering sound he made when I gave him lap dances. I tried one last time to give this man my mom called God, a chance to help me, but He never appeared.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I heard someone yell before passing out.
I knew Rodney must have beat the sense out of me when I thought for one moment that that could have been the voice of God.