Something Else (13)

Chapter THIRTEEN - Jaycee

Over the next few weeks Jaycee and I became friends. We found time during lulls in business to chat a bit and we went to a twenty-four-hour Big Boy after work on two occasions. I told her my story, such as it was, and she responded by unloading her recent history.

I learned that Jaycee was an interesting character. She was quite a talker. Right out of high school she met and married Bill, an over-the-road trucker and they had a baby girl they named Lucy. The marriage lasted about two years with Bill spending most of it running loads all across the country. Seems Bill had another family on the west coast too, though he hadn’t yet tied the knot with the California girl.

Jaycee cut Bill loose four years ago. For the first year after the divorce, she received regular child support payments from her ex but the $400 a month checks stopped when he married the woman in Los Angeles who already had three kids of her own. Bill was good in bed but that was about all he was good for.

She found work as a waitress in a strip bar called ‘Risqué Business’ in O’Fallon. It didn’t take long for her to get tired of customers who were a bit ‘handsy.’ The security staff spent most of their time protecting the dancers, but the waitresses had to fend for themselves.

She thought having a bar between her tender parts and the customer would act as a buffer and she asked to be moved to an open bartender position knowing she didn't have to learn a lot of fancy drinks. It was mainly bottles of Bud, bourbon and coke, vodka tonic and shots of tequila.

The manager liked her moxie, wanted her body, and gave her a shot behind the bar…after she slept with him, of course. That’s how it worked. She liked being a bartender. She had control when you were thirsty.

The money was good but not good enough. The dancers were making the big money. It wasn’t uncommon for ‘Heather,’ one of the more seasoned dancers, to bring home $1,000 a week, tax free. Within a year Jaycee convinced her manager friend to move her again and she graduated to dancer, where the real money was. It only took another roll in the hay.

Jaycee told me that in her whole life she never thought of herself as much of a dancer. She reached out to one of the other girls named Sam who took her under her wing. At the far end of the building in the dressing room there was a place to limber up and practice that included a pole.

Sam would tell her “You need to take it slow. Make it sensual, then hit ‘em in the face with some jiggle, then slow it back down. You are gonna make a bundle. Pick your music and make sure the DJ sets it up right.”

She said the name Jaycee wasn’t going to cut it and besides, the customer doesn’t need to know your real name. She needed a stage name.

Sam said that her real name was Martha, but she changed it to Samantha. It sounded classier, even sexier than Sam.

The bar already had a ‘Heather,’ a ‘Heidi,’ a ‘Crystal,’ and a Samantha. So, they gave it some thought, and Sam soon suggested “How about Ginger?”

Jaycee said she liked it immediately. She has reddish hair. That fit.

Then Sam told Jaycee she needed a ‘back-story.’ “Where are you from?”

“St. Charles.”

“No. That won’t do,” Sam had advised. “Some place more exotic like Memphis or Nashville.”

She told Sam that she always wanted to go to Memphis and see Graceland.

“Then that’s it. You are Ginger from Graceland, Tennessee,” Sam responded.

She told Sam that she didn’t think that Graceland was a city.

“No, but who the fuck cares.” Sam told her. “Saying it makes it true. It’s exotic. And the hicks around here won’t know the difference. They just wanna see your tits and ass.”

That’s when her formal training as a dancer began.

Sam took her back to the pole in the warmup area and said, “You need to work on your shakin.’ You gotta shake that money maker.”

Then Sam told her to make sure the DJ had the introduction for her as she went on stage: “Let’s have a warm welcome for Ginger…all the way from Graceland, Tennessee, home of Elvis Presley. She’s sexy. She’s beautiful and there’s a whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.”

What a story. It was somewhat sad but obviously Jaycee is a survivor.

“So, what do I call you?” I asked her.

“Call me Jaycee. Ginger is in my past.”

“Have you been to Graceland?” I asked.

“Not yet. Maybe someday,” She replied sadly.