Page 2 of Surviving the Merge
Julie would have me believe my proclivities were a product of having been orphaned at a young age. I tended to disagree. While true I’d lost my mother before those precarious teenage years, I did have my father—or some version of the man—well through high school.
On a good day, I preferred to believe I’d been birthed into my nature. On a bad day, I settled for not thinking about it at all.
I turned up the dial on the windshield wipers. Aside from actually needing to, the sound of rubber grating against glass helped to calm my frayed nerves. Gave me something else to focus on.
My headlights illuminated the sign a few meters ahead: South Kisla, half a mile.
So close.
While Kisla overran with cosmopolitans who thought it chic to live in high-rises and sit cross-legged at bars downing drinks named Cosmopolitan, South Kisla sat a few centimeters shy of the other side of the tracks. That could all change depending on which way the wind blew the pimps and the dope peddlers.
Short stucco buildings made up the vast majority of the neighborhood, spattered with your mom-and-pop shops and timeworn cafes along the main avenue.
With my unencumbered hand, I pressed down on my left leg to stop the shaking, while my right foot unconsciously put the pedal to the metal. I’d soon be at the gates of my damnation.
He’d be mean tonight—ifhe showed up. And I didn’t know if that knowledge terrified me or electrified me.
Yes, I do… I know...
I both trembled and hardened in my seat, knowing that whatever mood he brought to me, I’d welcome it. Open arms.
As always…
I pulled into the gravel parking lot of a one-story, nondescript brick building. The blue flickering sign above the steel door readElite.
Elite held the title of “most exclusive gay strip club” in the city. Strange, considering its location near the heart of the city’s underbelly. The perfect location for the upright pretenders to go unseen.
The line spanned the corner entrance of the unassuming building. Curling around the alleyway. Sitting to the left and the right of nothing but trouble and across the street from the rumbling expressway overpass.
The right price made almost anything possible at Elite. Some described it as seedy with a touch of class.
I raised the collar of my leather trench and rushed to the side entrance, knocking once, pausing, then knocking twice. I repeated the Morse code and blew into my cupped hands to fight off the chill. The overhanging roof protected me from the worst of the rain.
The rusted metal door creaked open as Black-Bobby the bouncer answered “the call.” I craned my neck up to greet him and sucked myself in to get around him.
The side entrance stood adjacent to the dressing rooms and was the dancers’ preferred method of entering and exiting the club. Wanting to avoid the grabby hands of the inebriated patrons as long as possible.
I made quick work of changing into my costume, which consisted of a thong and skin. I’d never been one for the theatrics. Looking at the time told me I needed to get onstage. I had a head start getting here, but that would only get me so far.
What if he doesn’t show up?I thought.
I closed my locker and squeezed between two dancers at the wall-to-wall mirror, braiding my hair into a plait down my back.
Many didn’t know what to make of me. At six foot tall with green eyes on an elfin face and ashen-colored hair that hung past my shoulders, my looks leaned toward androgynous. And although I wasn’t heavily packed with muscle, by no means could I be called thin or feminine. I had a dancer's body. Lithe but strong.
“Hey, Bambi,” someone called from behind.
I stared past myself in the mirror to see Glitter strutting by; he winked at me. Glitter was Elite’s resident flame-boyant. A short, ginger on ‘roids whose name spoke for itself. He’d taken to calling me “Bambi” in reference to my wide eyes. “Wide as a doe,” he’d said.
My eyes entered a room before I did.
“I haven’t seen you in weeks. Thought you’d finally gotten tired of doing this for fun,” he said, pausing with his hand on the dressing room curtain.
I loved the high I got from dancing erotically against a pole. Not enough to quit my day job, but still, this was what tetheredustogether.
“Me and some of the guys are heading to Club Spotlight after our set. Wanna come?” he asked. Before I could answer, he jumped in. “Let me guess, maybe some other time?”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I said unconvincingly.
