Buttered Popcorn

Chapter 1.5: September 18, 1986

The announcer introduced her and her music began. 'Like A Virgin' by Madonna started playing and she swayed her hips to the beat, flipping her hair about. The lacy pink outfit that hugged her curves and the stilettos made the crowd go wild. I couldn't say that she wasn't good, because I'd be lying, and I'm not a liar.

After two more songs and no bra, she scooped up her cash finished with a sexy wink to the crowd. The entire club went wild, as did I.

"Alright, Henny!" I clapped wildly, soon making my way to the bar as she instructed. I waved off the bartender each time they asked what I wanted to drink, looking around the corner until Les came out.

After a few minutes and in new lingerie, Les walked over to the bar and spotted me. "Hey!" she greeted with a bright smile. "Hey, honey. Pink's definitely your color." I winked. "I know, right? Brandie gave it to me. She said I could keep it." Her eyes sparkled when she said that. I couldn't help but smile too.

"Good. It looks good on you." "Thanks, doll. So, Chris slid me some weed and two tabs of acid. Is that alright?" she began to reach into her bra and pulled out two small plastic bags. "More than enough. Thanks, sweetie."

"Mhm!" she hummed happily, beginning to search my body for a way to discreetly give it to me. "By the way, is this my jacket? Because I could've sworn that I lost it." She started to open the front of it, 'looking' at it. If her anyone caught her sliding me drugs, she'd be laid off for sure.

"I dunno, maybe." I caught on, letting her slide the small bags into the inner pocket of the jacket. "Whatever, I'll look for it later. I gotta jam, I've got some private dances to do in the back," she rolled her eyes. She hated private dances.

"If you need anything, get Mario to get me. I'll be in one of the booths near stage 3. You'll be alright?" I asked. Mario was the guard that made sure nothing happened in any of the champagne rooms. He wasn't as close to me as Tiny, but he was alright.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine, I do this almost every night." she smiled sweetly. "Gotta take care of you. Thanks, by the way. Tell Chris I owe him one." "It's already handled," she assured, "I had to mess around with him a little, but you're off the hook."

"You're too good to me, Paul. I'll make it up to you." I shook my head. I hated that she used her body to get what she wanted. She didn't seem to have a problem with it, though.

"No, Jimmie, it's fine. Don't worry-" "Nuh uh," I interrupted, "I owe you. Now go, you've got dances." I nodded to the back room and nudged her in the general direction of the champagne rooms.

She rolled her eyes and smiled before beginning to make her way to the back. I walked back to the corner I had been sitting at, but there was a group of men that had made it there before me.

"Shit," I mumbled. Instead of going over there and causing a scene to claim my spot back like I normally would, I decided against it. Tonight wasn't the night.

I turned around to go find another seat, only to be met by a glass spilled down my shirt. "Fuck, dude! What the hell?" I watched the alcohol drip down between my boobs and soaking my bra. The front of my jacket was now drenched.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't even see you there. Can I buy you a drink? I swear, I didn't mean it-" "Can it, fuckface," I cut in, "You've done enough."

"Wait, I swear, I'm not normally this much of an asshole." "Shit, my jacket's soaked." I took it off from around my shoulders, leaving me in my bra and leather pants. Just what I need.

"I'm so sorry. Please, can I buy you a drink? Come sit with my friends and I, were not creeps, I promise." I took a few seconds to actually look up to his face. He had big blond hair and blue eyes.

"Whatever, man. Where's your table?" I gave in, feeling in my pocket to made sure my drugs were okay. Good news: They were.

"Great! Alright, I gotta order another drink, 'cause y'know-" "Where's your fucking table?" It came out pretty harsh, and as more of a statement rather than a question.

"Right- Uh... It's those guys over there." He gestured to the table that was previously mine where the men sat. "Of course it is." I muttered.

"Hey, if you don't mind, can you help me bring these drinks to them? I'll take your jacket. If I hold these any longer I'll probably drop a few." he chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, whatever."

I grabbed the two bottles of vodka from his hand and followed him to the back table. Once I sat the drinks down, one of the guys slipped a 5 dollar bill into the waistband of my pants. "Can you grab me a bottle of Jack, as well? Thanks, hot stuff."

I stared at him in disbelief. The head of curls before me stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to go grab his drink. This motherfucker thought I worked here.

"She's not a fucking stripper, dumbass," the blond groaned. "Sorry about him, he's drunk and an idiot. Ignore him." He blushed a pink color and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh, you don't work here? Well you certainly should. I'd pay good money to see you up on one of those stages." the curls spoke again.

It genuinely took every ounce of patience in me to not break his nose right then and there. Of course, he had to continue,"I mean, look at the lips on this one. You've got great tits, too-"

As he began to speak about me, I began adjusting the rings on my fingers. Right as he mentioned my boobs, I snapped. My right fist swung to the left side of his face, making his head swing to the side. What can I say? My patience wears thin quickly.

"Woah!" a taller blond, along with the rest of the men, stood up and shook the bottles on the table. "Fuck you, dude." I spat, storming off.

"Look what you did, dude! She left!" a voice yelled from behind me. "She fucking hit me! I got bitch slapped by a bitch!" another responded. "You got fucking pummeled, is what you got. You're such a pussy." one chimed. "What was I supposed to do? I couldn't hit her back!"

Eventually, the voices faded and began to blend with the music of the club. I stepped out into the night air, meeting the bouncer. "Hey, Tiny." "Are you alright, Miss Jimmie? Do you need my jacket?" Before I could respond, he already began taking it off, revealing his insanely huge biceps.

"No, no, that's alright, man. There's some real assholes in that club, though, I'll tell you that." I sighed, leaning against the brick wall beside him. "Do I need to kick them out?" "Nah, that's alright. I think I handled it enough." I rubbed my knuckles a bit, he soon notice and looked down to my hand, chuckling.

"Did you hit someone again, Miss Jimmie?" "Will my answer determine whether or not I can come back to this club?" I looked up to him where he was smiling, showing his gap between his two front teeth. I think he had a nice smile- he didn't do it often. Sometimes he reminded me of Mike Tyson, but bald. "Not this time."

"Then yes." He laughed, "That's what I was expecting." I took a deep breath out and we fell into a silence filled of passing cars and city life for a few moments. "We should go out to dinner or somethin', Tiny." I stated.

"Really?" he looked down to me with a glimmer of happiness in his dark eyes. Had no one ever asked him to dinner before? "Yeah, dude. You're alright, y'know." I nudged his side, causing him to crack another smile.

"I'll tell you when and where next time I'm here and you'll show, yeah?" I offered while he nodded. "Don't stand me up, Tiny. I might have to jump you." I warned, giving him a joking glare.

He laughed, "I don't doubt you will, Miss Jimmie."