Cold Hard Cash: A Story of Erotica (2 page)

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a sense of humor,” I deadpanned.

She studied me for a second then cracked up again. “You had me!” she laughed, holding the back of her hand over her mouth and looked around, spotting
Becca
coming towards us. “There’s the fuddy-duddy! Quick! Let’s pretend we’re talking about her!”

Becca
flipped her a bird, then fell into an empty chair at the table. “What up bitches?”

“Feeling bad?” I asked and pouted at her.

“Feeling better,” she said. “I am never eating a sandwich out of a vending machine again.”

“I told you not to do that,”
Nicki
said and took a bite of sushi.

“I was so hungry I had to have something. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking,” she said and looked me over. “Wow, like the look.”

“We went shopping,” I sang and grinned then pointed to my dress. “But this is a loaner from
Nicki
.”

“The girl’s got a
rockin
’
bod
that she totally hides,”
Nicki
said and pointed at me. “But we’re working on it.”

I almost blushed. Almost. It was good to hear someone appreciated my “
bod
” because I did run a lot and worked out in the gym when I could. Tonight,
Nicki
had lent me this killer mini dress that was covered in gold and silver sequins. It fit really loose but showed off my legs, which were lean and now getting quite tanned thanks to the Miami sun.

“She always did,”
Becca
said. “I don’t know how she wound up with that loser Trent.”

I groaned. “Because he was there,
Becca
, you know that. And we knew each other and I thought, for some reason, that it was time.”

“Time?”
Nicki
asked and took a sip of sake.

“Time to get married,”
Becca
said. “It’s what everybody does in our small town. Besides crazy Alvin Anderson.”

“Alvin Anderson?”

“He’s a nut, bless his heart,” I said. “He walks on the road talking to himself and has crazy hair and dirty clothes… Well, I explained that to you earlier. If they’re not married, usually there’s a reason.”

“And his reason is that he’s bat shit crazy,”
Becca
.

“You are so mean!” I said and slapped her arm.

“Oh, I forgot, he almost took you to the prom.”

I held up my plate, pretending to smash it against her head. “I am going to brain you over that!”

“What is this about?”
Nicki
wanted to know.

“She used to work at The Bean, this little diner, and he’d come in there and being the nice person she is, she’d be all nice to him, right? So, during our senior year, he started asking her about prom. She talked to him about it, of course, then asked her to it! When she turned him down, nicely, of course, he threw the cash register through the window.”

Nicki’s
mouth fell to the floor. “Did not!”

“He did,”
Becca
said. “And that’s probably why she can’t get a date. Everyone thinks her ex is crazy. And he is.”

‘Shut up!” I screeched. “He was not my ex! He was crazy and, like, twenty years older than me! And I could get a date. I dated my ex for a long time.”

“Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t marry you,”
Nicki
said, laughing.

“Bad girl!” I said and gave her a light punch. “Bad, bad girl!”

She laughed and shook her head at me. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

Becca
gave her a look, then me and said, “No, the reason that asshole wouldn’t marry her is because he’s a selfish prick.”

I groaned. “
Becca
, let’s not go there.”

“It’s true,” she said and crossed her arms. “I told you that you were too good for him. I told you that you were wasting your time.”

“Fine,” I said. “You were right. I was wrong.”

“You got a good friend there, Myra,”
Nicki
told me.

I smiled at
Becca
. “Yeah, I do.”

She smiled back and patted me on the arm. “One day, we will find you a good man. A real man, not some
jerkass
.”

“Could you do it, like, today?” I asked and smiled at her.

“You never know,” she said and grinned. “I think you just need to diversify. You’ll never find anyone back home.”

“Diversify?” I said. “Like you?”

“Like me,” she said, very pleased with herself. “I knew there wasn’t a man in that town I wanted to marry, so I waited and when my man came into the office looking for the head honcho, I staked my claim.”

“So,
that’s
how you did it,” I said and picked up my iced tea, taking a long sip.

“He was mine,” she said. “He just didn’t know it yet.”

We all cracked up and the waiter came by to ask if we’d like anything else. I asked
Becca
, “Do you want something?”

“God, no,” she said.

“Then just the check please,” I told him.

He smiled and handed it to me. I dug into my clutch purse, then handed him my card.

“Oh, let me,”
Nicki
said.

“It’s on me,” I said. “You got lunch.”

“Thanks,” she said and winked at me. “So, what’s on the agenda for tonight?”

Becca
shrugged. She still looked like death warmed over. I felt bad for the girl. “Maybe we should stay in tonight,” I suggested.

“Oh, no,”
Becca
said. “Don’t let me interrupt your good time. You girls go and come back and tell me about all the hot men you see, just like you’ve been doing since we got here.”

“We just like to rub it in your face,” I said.

She rolled her eyes at me just as a young man came up on a bicycle and stopped in front of our table. We all stared at him, wondering what he wanted.

“You ladies like dancing?” he asked.

“Who’s asking?”
Nicki
asked.

He shrugged and pulled something out of his backpack, waving it at us. “Free tickets,” he said and grinned.

“Free tickets to where?” I asked as
Becca
grabbed them.

“An all male revue,” he said. “It’s close by. You can walk, even.”

“What the hell is that?”
Nicki
asked.

“I know what this is!”
Becca
said and giggled like a teenager. “It’s a man meat showcase.”

“Man meat?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Male strippers! Duh!” she squealed and waved the tickets in the air. “Hells yeah! We’re going!”

“But you’re sick,”
Nicki
told her.

“I
ain’t
that damned sick,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said with uncertainly.

“Come on,” she said and held the tickets up. “
Wanna
go?”

I hesitated for a second too long, giving
Nicki
the time to grab the tickets and shout, “Yes! We’re going!”

So we did.

* * * * *

The young man giving us the tickets informed us that we had to purchase at least one drink each, which was fine by us. Hell, we had two each before the show even started and a third round was on the way.

That’s Miami. You come, you play, you get drunk and you do stupid stuff, like go see a man meat showcase, as
Becca
so eloquently put it.

“I’ve never been to a male stripper show,” I said as I sipped my fruity tropical and very watered down expensive drink.

“Does that mean you’ve been to a female stripper show?”
Becca
asked.

Nicki
cracked up, shaking her head.

I glared at little at
Becca
and said, “No, I have not. Have you?”

“Not yet,” she said. “But I’m married. Who knows what we’ll eventually end up doing to keep things fresh?”

“”Oh, God, why did you say that?”
Nicki
asked. “I’m getting married soon!”

“Just saying,”
Becca
replied and shrugged.

Nicki
and I stared at her, then shook our heads, then
Nicki
turned to me and asked, “So, you’ve never been to an all male stripper show before?”

“I have not,” I replied.

“I’ve been to a few bachelorette parties,” she said, glancing around the room from our table in the back. “Wow. There are a lot of bitches in here.”

There were. I mean, a
lot.
This must have be a popular revue because every woman in Miami, and probably the surrounding county, had showed for it. The room was gigantic, too, almost like a small theater or something.

“What are they called again?”
Becca
asked.

I shrugged, noting that the thought of seeing male strippers had miraculously healed her and she was looking better. She’d gone up to our room to change into a nice striped top and a pair of skinny jeans with heels, almost the exact same outfit that
Nicki
had on. Suddenly, I wanted my jeans too and not this expensive and very beautiful mini dress that
Nicki
had let me borrow. What if I spilled a drink on it?
Nicki
would probably kill me.

“They’re called Hard Working Men,” a nice looking lady at the next table told us as she adjusted her straight-out-of-the-eighties high hair.

Her friend in the next seat chimed in, “Yeah, they’re the Men of Construction, that’s the name of this revue. It’s about construction work.”

“Yeah, I get that,”
Becca
said a little smart-assed. “Men of Construction. Hard Working Men.”

“No,” the other one sassed. “They are the Hard Working Men, that’s the group name and this showcase is called Men of Construction. They do different kinds of shows with different themes, you know.”

We just stared at her, wondering why she was acting so much like a
fangirl
. I didn’t get it. But I soon would.

“Thanks for the tip,”
Becca
said sarcastically and picked up her drink, laughing a little to herself.

“No problem,” the woman said and nodded eagerly. “You’ll want to come tomorrow, too. We try to come down and see them at least a couple times a month.”

“Nice,” I said and glanced at
Becca
who surmised her with a raised eyebrow. She stared at me and we hid our smiles. I knew then and there that she was still my best friend and would always be. It was nice to know. I stared at her and exclaimed, “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too!” she said and hugged my neck, almost drunkenly. “Myra, you have to move to San Francisco with me! I need my best friend!”

“Hey! What about me?”
Nicki
asked.

“I’m not forgetting about you. All three of us would be so cool together,” she said and stared at me. “We could open a cupcake shop!”

“Now you’re getting crazy,” I said. “And drunk,” I added and shook my head, taking the drink out of her hand. “You have nothing on your stomach, so stop.”

“Whatever, Mom,” she said sarcastically.

“I’ve known you since second grade,” I told her. “I know how you are. If you drink too much, you’ll be passed out in less than an hour.”

“Fine,” she said and waved at a passing waiter. “A water, please.”

He nodded and walked past us.

“When the fuck is this going to start?”
Nicki
whined.

“Eight-forty-five,” our friend at the other table said. “We’ve still got five minutes.”

“Five minutes?”
Nicki
asked. “Think I have time to run to the ladies room?”

“No way,” the woman said. “What if they start early? You could miss the opening.”

“That’s true,”
Nicki
said.

The waiter came back with the water. I took it, unscrewed the cap and handed it to
Becca
. “Drink.”

“Fine,” she said and took a long sip. “But seriously, get the show on the road,
fellas
! I want to go to bed and call my honey.”

“You miss your hubby?”
Nicki
asked.

“No, I miss my bed,” she said and pouted. “I just got this divine mattress. It’s this—”

She was interrupted when a loud noise that sounded like a jackhammer ripped into the room. Then the lights went out, leaving us in total darkness.

“It’s starting!”
Becca
giggled. “It’s starting!”

“
Shh
!” the ladies at the next table hissed.

She sat back and shut her mouth. I stared at her and we almost started laughing but I shook my head and turned my attention to the darkened stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen…” the emcee started, then cleared his throat. “I mean, ladies and ladies please welcome Hard Working Men!”

He said it like this: Hard! Working! Men!

And welcomed they were. Every woman in the house was up and out of her seat, shaking ass and screaming as a group of good looking, muscular and, apparently, hard working men came onto the stage. Wow. I mean, WOW! Okay, I’d give it to them. They were a bunch of hard working men who were also man meat.
Becca
had been right in her description of them. They were also the Men of Construction. And, damn, they looked good.

The show started. I thought for a second that
Y.M.C.A.
would start playing but instead, I heard the undeniable sounds of
Shake Your Money Maker
—the Black Crows version—start playing. And that’s what got my ass out of my seat. It was, like, one of my all-time favorite songs. Ever. Again—
ev
-ah!

The first Man of Construction came to the front of the stage with a shovel. He was shirtless and dressed in a pair of blue jeans, work boots and yellow hard hat which, apparently, was the costume for all of the men—and he started dancing with it like it was a very tiny woman. I thought it would be hokey but it was actually very well choreographed and worked. He dipped her, touched her head and then her body as the crowd went absolutely bat shit crazy.

And we went crazy with them.
Nicki
,
Becca
and I were out of our seats, almost ready to climb up and dance on the table as the music pounded in our ears and the men onstage revved us up.