Candy Shop

Candy and I met at a strip club. Blondes aren't my type by any means, but Candy still managed to catch my eye. Along with a pretty face, Candy possessed a thin frame, long--shapely legs, full breasts, and a nice ass. Candy's dirty blonde mop almost covered her face so it was difficult to make out the color of her eyes in the dark. She was also odorless. Although Candy sat right next to me for what seemed to be hours during the night, I couldn't pick up her scent. It was as if she had been sterilized during her shift. Nevertheless, during this unforgettable night, Candy allowed me to peer into her world of mystery.

Our long night began at the door before I even set foot in Candy's place of work for the first time. Truthfully, I've never been a fan of strip clubs. On this night, I was prodded into joining my older brother's crew for his birthday party. I had concerns about being in the strip club since I tended to be recognized everywhere around the city. My brother made me feel guilty when I told him I couldn't attend his party. He accused me of being selfish and paranoid. After awhile, I relented. I didn't want to let him down. I decided to go out disguised as a mature cat--hoping if anybody in the joint recognized me that my attire would throw them off.

Candy commented on my baby face at the door while I was paying the $5 cover to get in. We played the "guess my age" game while I intentionally rummaged through my wallet for money. I had $300 in my wallet, most of which I was going to use to pay a bill the next day. I just wanted Candy to think I was big ballin'. She admitted that my choice of clothing was throwing her off as she tried to figure out my age. According to Candy, although I looked younger, my cardigan and plaid shirt gave me the appearance of somebody who was a bit older. It didn't take much prodding for her to tell me her age. She was a week away from turning 19.

I immediately grabbed an Absolut Vodka with cranberry juice upon walking in. It was $7.75. Shortly after sitting down with my drink, Candy ascended to the stage. I wasn't impressed initially. She looked real average at the door. Again, blondes don't do it for me. As Candy methodically removed her thin black dress during her first act, I made my way towards her sanctuary for a closer look. She suddenly became stunning. There was one other patron sitting in front of the stage. It was obvious that Candy wasn't interested in him. She crouched directly in front of me and oddly, she stopped dancing and started talking to me. I sat in my front row seat looking up at Candy, admiring the blonde beauty hovering over me.

Me: Uhh.. Aren't you supposed to be dancing? You know? Jogging my imagination??
Candy: I'm way too hot up here and that guy over there is weird.
Me: lol. Well, I'm not weird.
Candy: I know. That's why I'm talking to you? (she starts to move a little bit to the music)
Me: My imagination is waiting.
Candy: Jeez. You're gonna make me work for a $1, huh? Tonight's so slow. I've walked out of here with $8 before.
Me: This is my first time here. I don't do strip clubs, so you gotta leave me with a favorable impression.
Candy: Well, I don't get down like the other girls here. I'm classy. Do you smoke?
Me: Nope.
Candy: I bet that's a turn off for you. I wanted you to come outside so we could talk.
Me: What?!? I'm tryin' to see you dance! lol

After Candy finished her routine, she went outside for a cigarette. I sat there and continued to watch the women on stage. A few minutes after she disappeared to smoke, Candy came back and sat next to me in the audience.

Me: Do you like what you do?
Candy: I don't mind it.
Me: Doesn't seem like it.
Candy: It's just a slow night. That's all... Look at that girl up there. That's my competition in here. I'm a white girl. I can't compete with a Puerto Rican.
Me: What? You look way better than her! I'm not even into blondes and you got me to pay attention.
Candy: Really? I guess it's that I haven't gotten used to being attractive. I used to be fat. I was never popular.
Me: Oh. I wouldn't have ever guessed that. You seem smart. Are you in college?
Candy: Nah. I applied and got in to college but couldn't go. My sister has a brain disease and my mom is sick too. I have a lot going on, and I'm kind of fending for myself.
Me: Where's dad?
Candy: He died when I was 5. I'm glad he's dead, though.
Me: Why?
Candy: He was an abusive alcoholic. He used to beat my mom, even beat the dogs. He died in a drunken driving accident.

(To be continued)