All Or Nothing (5 page)

Shantell decided to put an “H” on her chest and handle it. She would be both the child’s mother and father. She would show these niggers that she was more of a man than they would ever be. Fuck them all, she thought.

the interim, Shantell went downtown to the welfare agency, applied for and received public assistance. She applied for Section Eight, low-income housing and was placed on a waiting list. Shantell applied for the works; whatever she could get, she was going to get. Still, she wouldn’t sit back and depend on the government to take care of her child. Shantell was about to take matters into her own hands.

The birth of her daughter had succeeded in doing one thing, if nothing else: it succeeded in getting Shantell to become more serious and more focused about life. She had no choice but to get out and get it. Life had never given Shantell Bryant anything except the blues, so she didn’t expect anything from it to now.

The birth of her new baby, Jordan, had given Shantell a set of newfound responsibilities. Babies had needs and those needs had to be met.

The Club Champagne was located on Atando Avenue, just off North Tryon Street. It was housed in an average-sized, pale white, non-descript building. Nothing about the place suggested luxury; by no means was this place classy or upscale. On the contrary, it was as hood as it gets. Still, it was a hotspot, renowned throughout the city. It was a known fact that any stripper that was about anything danced here at one time or another.

Shantell stood against the powder white wall, relaxing. She wasn’t too concerned with getting dirty. She was just trying to stay out of the sun. Periodically, Shantell checked her wrist watch; she anxiously awaited the club’s manager, Tommy. She wanted to get this over and done with. It seemed that she was a little early. When one depended on public transportation to get around, it was best to be early than to be late. In the hood, it seemed like city buses came when they wanted to. There was no rhyme or reason to their schedules.

As Shantell looked around the desolate block, she noticed another young woman approaching. She would bet her last dollar that the young woman was coming to the exact same place. One didn’t have to be a psychic to figure that out. There was nothing else around, except warehouses and factories.

“Hey,” the young lady spoke. “You been waiting here long?”

Shantell replied, “Not that long.”

Shantell wasn’t big on talking to strangers; she was a loner. She had trouble trusting people. She preferred to keep it brief when dealing with them. She only spoke when spoken to, and she didn’t volunteer any information. It was a tough task trying to get Shantell to engage in a conversation.

For some reason, the young lady didn’t take hints well. She continued to attempt to strike up a conversation, which turned out to be one-sided in her favor.

“You auditioning today huh? Where you from? What’s your name? How old are you? You got kids?” The girl continued to pester her.

Though Shantell didn’t particularly care to talk, the girl almost forced the words out of Shantell’s mouth with her indepth line of questions. Against her better judgment, Shantell began to take a liking to the girl.

“Damn, you sure ask a lot of questions,” Shantell hinted. “And I don’t even know yo’ name?”

The young lady’s smile deflected any signs of hostility that may have been in the air. She was thick skinned with a good sense of humor. Dee-Dee felt like if she talked to anybody long enough, she would make them like her. Dee-Dee thought she was so likable, even the Klan would like her. Dee-Dee knew she could be a pest at times; that was the only knock against her.

If she befriended you, though, one had a friend to the end. A fair-weather friend she wasn’t.

“My bad! My name is Denise. Denise Daniels. But everybody calls me Dee-Dee.”

“Well, Dee-Dee, meet Shantell,” she announced. “How the hell are you?”

Shantell straightened up and offered the girl a handshake. Dee-Dee accepted and Shantell leaned back up against the wall. There, she was comfortable and content. From her position on the wall, Shantell proceeded to answer all of Dee-Dee’s questions; plus, she managed to sneak in a few of her own. Before the two women knew it, they had begun to click. Shantell found out that Dee-Dee’s background was similar to hers. They both came from the hood, and each had faced adversity in different ways.

While they talked Shantell gave Dee-Dee the once-over. She had to admit that Dee-Dee had the goods. She was tall but not lanky. She stood approximately 5’10” with short hair, big bubbly eyes, and a mind-blowing body. Every part of Dee-Dee was big, butt her body came together nicely; each part complimented the other. The amazing thing about her was she was elegant, not clumsy. She carried herself very well. Shantell was impressed by her beauty and the way she carried herself. Shel gave credit where it was due.

From out of nowhere, a black Mercedes Benz S500 suddenly appeared. As it pulled into the small makeshift parking lot, all conversation ceased between the girls. All eyes were on the beautiful foreign sedan and its occupant. The girls were almost certain that this was Tommy, the club’s owner, manager, crisis counselor and anything else one could think of. Who else could it be, pulling up to a strip club early in the afternoon?

Tommy was a hustler from the old school. He had made his money and his mark on the streets of Charlotte, way before these two were even born. Well into his forties, Tommy was old enough to be both these girls’ father; and the way he spread himself around, he quite possibly could be.

The thing Tommy never did was mix business with pleasure. He never had sex with the strippers who worked for him. He knew if he did that, then they would lose all respect. They would never follow his orders. In their minds, he would be no different from any other trick in the club. Strippers were some very strange characters. In order to keep his operation running smoothly, Tommy made money with the strippers and fucked elsewhere.

First and foremost, Tommy was about that dollar. He was always looking for that fresh face, or a young chick to add new blood to the club. In the strip club scene, old was bad and new was good. Who was Tommy to buck that trend? It was a time-tested theory for every strip joint in the country. It worked time and time again. There was nothing an old trick loved more than a new hoe.

“Sorry I’m late,” he stated. “I had to make a little run to the other side of town and everything. I hope y’all can forgive me. I appreciate y’all waiting for me.”

“No problem,” Dee-Dee answered.

Tommy was a big man powerfully built. He had thick arms and a broad chest. He stood 6’4” and weighed in at 260 pounds. He had an imposing physical presence about him that seemed to demand respect from everyone. Tommy wasn’t the type one would want to bump into in a dark alley. He crushed gravel beneath his feet as he walked toward the door. He was a heavyweight in every sense of the word.

He quickly undid the lock to the club, opened the door, and deactivated the security alarm. The girls followed him right in. Even when he flipped on the lights, the club was still dim; there was just enough light to see. From the looks of things, someone had been cleaning up last night. The chairs were atop the tables and the countertops of the bar were clean.

“Follow me,” he said. “We going back to my office.”

The girls did just what they were told. His office was right behind the counter.

The lighting in the office was a lot better. Now Tommy could see exactly what he was getting. One look at these two and he knew he had two winners. If he didn’t know outside, he knew now. Mentally, Tommy kicked himself; he wished he had one of his partners there with him to see what he was about to see. He would have called them but there was no time for that.

“The show must go on,” he thought.

The office was small but it was nicely furnished with a desktop computer, printer and monitor. There was also a large wooden desk and three chairs. Tommy sat behind the desk and reclined in a leather chair, looking every bit like the boss he was.

“Alright, ladies. I guess you know what you’re here for? Correct?”

“Yeah,” Dee-Dee replied.

“How about you?” He looked at Shantell. “You ain’t said two words yet. You alright?”

Tommy was concerned by Shantell’s lack of verbal communication. This business wasn’t for the timid or weak. Only the strong survived here. He had seen the strip club chew up and spit out so many weak strippers. Before one knew it, they were either full-fledged prostitutes or strung out on drugs. One had to be strong to handle the day-to-day bullshit that went on in the club. Taking your clothes off in front of complete strangers, without any shame, wasn’t normal at all.

Auditioning the girls was Tommy’s way of weeding out the weak. It didn’t do him any good to have a stripper quit on him in the middle of a packed house. If a potential stripper couldn’t cut it here, in his office, then she certainly couldn’t cut it later. So why waste his time or theirs? Tommy was going to cut straight to the chase right now.

“I’m alright,” Shantell admitted. “Don’t mind me. I ain’t too much on talking.”

“Well, we gotta get you up outta that bad habit. That ain’t good for business, yours or mine. You understand?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll talk when I have to. I’m about my business. Believe me,” Shantell assured him. “It’s not a problem.”

“Okay, okay. That’s what I like to hear. I was just checking.”

A sly smile creased his lips in anticipation was what was to come. This wasn’t an expression of approval; it was one of pure lust.

“Oh, yeah! I just remembered something. Ladies, could I see some ID, please? The law requires that you young ladies be at least eighteen. And I ain’t trying to spend a day in jail for nobody! We’ll have none of that underage shit in here. The Man will run up in here and shut us down quick, fast, and in a hurry.”

The girls reached into their respective purses and handed over the proper credentials. Tommy scrutinized both of their North Carolina state-issued identifications.

“Shantell?” he called out.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she replied.

“And you must be Denise?”

“All day, every day,” Dee-Dee chimed.

On his computer, Tommy scanned a copy of both their identifications, for his personal records, before he gave them back Now the fun part was about to begin.

“Here y’all go,” he began. “If y’all wouldn’t mind, would y’all take off y’all’s clothes?”

The girls rose from their seats and did what was asked of them. Tommy could hardly contain himself as he watched with earnest. He was a sexual freak in every sense of the word. All he could think about was giving the young girls oral sex, right here and right now. He examined the duo so closely; he should have been a gynecologist.

In no time they were butt naked, standing right in front of him. Each woman possessed a killer body. They both had the physical traits that Tommy liked in his women. Dee-Dee had the fat ass that Tommy required of any woman he was sleeping

with. Shantell, on the other hand, was slim in the waist and pretty in the face. The absence of body fat really turned him on. He would have bit his lip at the sight of these two naked, but it would have seemed very unprofessional. Though he saw gorgeous bodies every day of the week, these two were the exception to the rule. The crème de la crème.

Tommy’s first impression of Shantell was that she was exceptionally beautiful and unusually poised. If this was her first time stripping in front of a stranger, he couldn’t tell.

All the sex that Shantell had had over the years had broken her out of her shyness. She didn’t hesitate when given an instruction, nor did she squirm under close examination. Every step of the way, she proved that she had whatever it took to work there, and so did Dee-Dee. They were only young in age, not experience.

“Alright, ladies could both of y’all spin around and shake what your momma gave y’all? Dance!” I usually make girls do this to music, but I ain’t got none. So y’all gonna have to use your imagination.”

The girls danced as if there was music in the room. Their timing seemed to be in sync to the imaginary beat. Tommy watched as their asses jiggled and wiggled. The girls grinded their hips and dropped it like it was hot. After seeing that, the girls finally got Tommy’s seal of approval.

“Goddamn!” he exclaimed. “You two make a nigger wish he was young again. For real! I bullshit you not!”

With that comment, Tommy had cosigned for them. They were officially strippers. He liked what he saw.

“Oh, before I forget, let me ask you young ladies a serious question. Do any of you have a husband, boyfriend, or significant other? Basically what I’m asking is, is there any jealous-ass or pussy-whooped nigger that might have a problem with either one of you dancing in here?”

Tommy’s latest question probably was the most important thing he would ever ask because if either of their answers were yes, then he couldn’t employ them. He didn’t want any parts of domestic drama around his place of business. Violence wasn’t good for any business.

“No!” they both seemed to say in unison.

“Okay, just checking. ’Cause niggers act a fool over some pussy that may not even be theirs. Another thing: there’s no drinking alcohol while on the job.”

As the girls got dressed, Tommy went on to explain the club rules and the code of conduct. He became a little repetitive because he wanted to be clear. The rules were the rules; break them and you were gone. He would personally give you your walking papers. Certain things would not be tolerated by Tommy, regardless of who you were or how good you looked. You violated the rules, you were gone. It was that simple.

“Look, y’all be here tonight. Nine o’clock sharp!”

Later that night, Jordan, curled up in Shantell’s lap. She gently stroked her daughter’s hair. In so many ways, Shantell was comforting her. Through the sense of touch, Shantell conveyed to Jordan that she was here for her and always would be. The toddler desperately tried to fight sleep, but to no avail. The feeling was too good. Sleep was slowly overcoming her, anyway. The baby began to play with her own ear. This was a sign to Shantell that her daughter would be fast asleep shortly. The sooner she went to sleep, the better, because Shantell had to be at work in a little while.