Dippin' Low: The Story of Honey (EDITING)

Chapter 9: Rewind That Back

"You don't call them 'strippers.' They're dancers. 'Strippers' sounds cheesy and amateurish. These women are professionals." -Jackson Burnett

Chapter |9|

(teddy in MM)

Zeke, Zeke, Zeke.

I checked on my Mama and made sure she took her meds. I then changed and laid in my bed. That man Zeke was something else. I couldn't exactly wrap my finger around that brother. He was a man of mystery, something that any woman would find irresistible, hell I even found that shit sexy. But what was really capturing me was his spontaneity and his ability to be unpredictable. Something I always found to be an attractive trait in a man. A trait that was usually hard to come across.

Something I couldn't say for my ex Teddy. Teddy was mysterious but not in a good way. Being with him for three years was nothing but pure torture. I would wake up to him not by my side most nights. Confronting him became exhausting and eventually out of the question. He would be evasive and tell me 'I had nothing to worry about' and he was an 'important man' and if I kept my face pretty and body tight, I wouldn't have anything to worry about.

For three whole years I was trapped into a relationship that did nothing but break down my spirit and ruin my self-esteem. And to find it ironic that I met him at Hustler's Palace. I could remember like it was just yesterday how I saw him across the room as I was doing my lap-dance and shot rounds.

He was one of the smooth, chocolate brothers in the back of the club with a girl on his arm and a cigar between his thick, black lips. The lines on his bald head were so deep I could place a pencil between the lines and it wouldn't fall off. Those big, powerful arms of his were wrapped around the attractive female with his lips to her ear. She giggled with her hand over her mouth as if he was telling a juicy secret. She was wrapped in those arms almost as a lover's embrace but I thought otherwise. She was probably just a good fuck he needed to end his night right.

In front of them was a bucket with a five hundred dollar bottle of Dom sitting on ice, unopened. They probably just arrived.

That night I was wearing one of my favorite outfits. It was a Friday night and that Sunday was Easter so I wore my fuzzy white bunny matching thong and a strapless bra with big bunny ears on top of my head. My hair was black and cut short into a boy cut. In my black pumps I carried the nightly complimentary round of shot glasses. I was making my way to the back when a deep, Keith Sweat like voice stopped me in my tracks. "Hey, shorty come here for a second."

It was my first year at Hustler's Palace and I hadn't earned my stripper name yet. Hell, I haven't even touched that pole.

I turned to face Mr. Handsome and for some reason I couldn't find any confidence. I rarely held a conversation with any of the customers so this was very new to me. "You talkin' to me?" I asked pointing to my chest.

He chuckled. "You the only one around darlin'. Come here."

I hesitated at the moment and looked around for a second. I wasn't too sure if I could just sit down and hold a conversation. It wasn't exactly in my job description. After a second, I took a seat on the black leather couch and placed the tray on the round table and my hands on my knees, nervously. I drummed my fingers on knees waiting for something else to happen. It seemed like an eternity before he spoke again.

"Why so shy? I never met a stripper who was this timid!" He laughed again and this time the petite girl beside him joined in. That actually made me mad on the inside and embarrassed. I balled up my fists and stood quickly grabbing my tray ready to leave but not before I gave him a few words.