After I say goodbye to the Sterlings, I get in my truck and head home, relaxed after a pleasant afternoon with friends. But still, I can’t get this free use thing out of my head because I want to try the lifestyle, but I need to find the right woman first. The question is who could she be, and where is she hiding?
2
Jessie
I hike my backpack up over my shoulder and push through the door to the backstage area of the Corinthian Hotel. It’s still bright outside, but once I step inside, my eyes blink as I struggle to see in the dimly lit area. That’s what working in entertainment does for you, I suppose.
But with I sigh, I pad down the narrow hallway lit only by a few bulbs here and there. My textbooks are so heavy that my bag’s practically dragging my shoulder off with it, but I have nowhere else to stash them, and maybe, just maybe, I can even get some studying in during down periods at work. After all, I’m a wardrobe assistant for Thunder Strike, a male revue in Vegas, and there are some pauses in the action. Mostly when the guys are on-stage, but I don’t need to watch them dance because I’ve already seen the show a billion times and a half by now.
Besides, school is important. It’s the only way out of my currently impoverished lifestyle, and as a result, I’m determined to make things work. I’m currently enrolled at Clark Community College, and I’m studying nursing. It’s not my dream field, but nursing pays well and there’s a shortage of qualified RNs right now. For me, it’s more about making things work financially, and not rainbows, unicorns, and finding one’s dreams. Sad, right?
But now, my shift if starting and I hustle to the staff room. I don’t want to be late because I’m already on thin ice with my manager. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t want to be fired because I need the money. This job is what puts food on the table, so I have to make it work.
“Hey Jessie, glad you’re here. Big night tonight, right?” a sweet, feminine voice chimes from next to me. I smile at my coworker, Tanya, who’s cute. She’s got curly brown hair and a bubbly personality but the fact is that every night is a big night to her. She’s a true Vegas junkie even though actually, today’s a random Wednesday that’s totally indistinguishable from any other day.
“Has it been busy so far?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Not really, but things will pick up. You know, when all the dancers start arriving, and ugh, that prick Tommy Hatch. He thinks that because he’s got muscles out to there that we should kiss his ass. I swear, if he asks me to fix his banana hammock again, I’m going to puke.”
I giggle.
“But at least it’s an XL banana hammock. And he doesn’t ask you to work on it while he’s wearing it, does he?”
Tanya shakes her head.
“No, thank god. He takes it off so I can mend it using the machine, but girl, that banana hammock is so greasy from all the tanning lotion he uses. It’s gross and I always feel slightly ill after touching it.”
I laugh because Tommy Hatch is an outlier. To be honest, most of the male dancers are very respectful at Thunder Strike, which is paramount because I’d quit otherwise. But Tommy is one of those guys who believes he’s God’s gift to women, and he’s not above ordering us lowly wardrobe assistants around. My friend nods as she pins her hair up, glancing askance at my book bag.
“So how was school today? Learn anything new?”
I shake my head, stuffing the huge sack into a metal locker against the wall.
“Not really. It’s pretty much the same all the time. I’m excited to be one day closer to graduating though. You know what they say: one foot in front of the other.”
My friend smiles encouragingly.
“You’re great with people, Jess. I’m sure you’ll make an awesome nurse.”
I bite my lip looking down. “Thanks. Appreciate it.”
But inside, my heart is heavy because again, I’m not sure nursing is my true vocation. It’s really about the labor market and making ends meet, not to mention paying back my mounting student loans. With a sigh, I pull out my brown bag lunch and stick it into the staff fridge. Ugh, something’s ripe in there and my nose crinkles.
“Did Tommy let his milk go sour again?” I ask with disgust. “He leaves food in there for weeks at a time and never retrieves it.”
Tanya shrugs.
“I have no idea but probably. You know him. Close the fridge door, girlfriend! The stench is starting to filter out and I can smell it even from here.”