In Pop's Footsteps - 1. In Pop's Footsteps

My parents didn't do anything wrong but be poor. Pops was a working class stiff his whole life who told us kids you work hard, you put away what you can, and you will have something to depend on when times get hard. Well, pops lived and died by his philosophy leaving mum with a serious problem because then mum, the church-going, home-making, cookie-baking woman that she was had to get a job. Pops had a nest egg and a small insurance policy, but it just wasn't going to be enough to raise the four of us kids on, especially with my eldest sister heading off to college in a few weeks. Now don't get me wrong, Margie's grades were good and she had herself a scholorship to the state university that paid for almost everything, but almost still left some to be paid and next year... well lets just say my grades were just as good but there were other things to be considered. Furtermore, I was now the man of the house. My two younger brothers were little, seven and four, which really gave me time to get some money together for them -- ten years or so for Alex and another three for Pete. So, if I got out of college and into a job then I could help mom out with them and fulfill my obligation to my father. But first, I had to get into college. Not only did I have to get into college but I had to figure out how I was going to be able to pay for it myself. I couldn't ask mum, not if she was footing Margie's bill. It wouldn't be right.

That's what had me out on this particular night, just out walking around. I did that a lot, you know, walk and think. Only this time I didn't really stick to my predetermined path. I just walked randomly and was, I figured, a good couple miles from home when I looked up to figure out where I had ended up. I guess shocked would be a good word for my expression when I recognized the part of town I was in. It happened to be one of the places my mum wouldn't even drive through in the day time with the windows down and the doors unlocked, and here I was walking through it at night, alone. I shook my head and looked at the nearest building. It was a club of some sort, if that could be determined from the music pumping out the door when it opened to let in people from the line who were waiting outside to get in.

I walked over, wondering if someone had a phone. I could always call my Uncle George, he would come get me and not say anything to mum, even if he would berate me for my stupidity all the way home. But then I saw a sign next to the door -- "Amateur Night -- First Prize $250 plus tips" with a smaller sign that had an arrow and the words 'contestant's entrance' on it. It pointed around the corner.

Curious, I edged around toward the contestant's entrance and there were a about a dozen young looking men and younger looking women standing there in a raggedy line. I shook my head and started to turn around when one of them called out to me.

"Hey sweety, you come to gawk or to strip? This ain't no freak show you know."

I felt the heat rising on my face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Then some of the others laughed. "Look at the little boy blush!"

Another young man joined the line, "Are you in line?" he asked me, putting me on the spot. I looked at him, uncertian, then nodded. I wasn't sure if I could even get in the door if they carded, nor was I sure if I could strip... but $250 would be a good start for my college fund. The line moved forward at a snail's pace with two or three people going in at a time, but it did move, and soon I was inside facing a young man in nothing but a g-string. I felt the heat rising on my face again.

He smiled, "Let me guess, this is your first time. You don't have to answer, it's written all over you. You can call me Angel, everyone does. What name would you like to go by on stage?"

"I don't know."

"Haven't even thought about it, eh?" he cocked his head to one side, "Well we will figure that out when we have you dressed. Come along." He led me into a dressing room where there were several outfits laid out. "Pick the one that you like the best, then strip down and I'll show you how it works."

A short time later he stood behind me as the announcer read my introduction. I was dressed in a prepschool uniform with geeky glasses and held a book in my hands, upside down. They were playing some rock tune about about a boy named Johnney on the speakers. Angel had stepped me through a simple routine before it was time for me to come on, and I did exactly what he said, letting the music take over. I wasn't nervous until I started to undress, but then they were waving money at me. Angel said I could keep my tips. I bent and gyrated and let them put the tips in my clothing. Female hands, male hands, it didn't matter, I took their money. By the time the song ended I was wearing only the g-string, socks, and glasses. I picked up the strown clothing and props from the floor and headed backstage. The manager asked me to go to room B and get back in my costume. Angel poked his head in and grinned, telling me to gather the money up and give it to the manager to hold for me. I counted it as I did -- there was nearly $700.

Goggling at that amount of money I sat in the room with three other contestants, two female and one male. After a while the manager came in and called the name of the other male and he left to be replaced by the young man who had followed me. The four of us sat and waited for a while before we were requested to come back out, for a second set. They lined us up girl - boy, so I was last. Fidgeting I waited and watched the others from back stage. This time we were not allowed to go and dress again. Angel stood near me and gave me a pep talk, encouraging me to do my best. I assured him I would.

When I stepped out on the stage it was like stepping out into a different place and time. I was no longer Mathew, but Johnney... unfettered by the preconceptions of family and the demands of society I connected with the audience. When my set was over I went back stage. Angel helped me remove my tips, and give them to the manager, who counted them.

I didn't win the contest. I didn't even come in second, but I went home that night with $1500 in my pocket and a job offer. Not for that club, but another one ran by a man in the audience. Angel introduced me after the winners were announced, he danced there sometimes too. It seems I was the only guy dancing tonight who didn't shy away from the men who wanted to put the tips in my g-string. I figured a tip was a tip, who cares who was looking and who was paying. Question is, can I dance in a men's only club? It would give me something to think about as I walked home. Now I had a start on a college fund, and a way to add more money to it... yeah I just might take the job. Mum wouldn't like it. I'd have to talk to Uncle George, he would understand, at least I think he would. Even if he didn't understand about me wanting to be a stripper, he would understand about me wanting to make my own way. That would sway him. That and he was pops brother... and he, like pops, believed in working hard and putting away what you could. It may not have been the profession pops would have picked for me, but in a way I was following in his footsteps.

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