Page 2 of Double XL Mountain Men
Kiki looks ashamed, and continues to twist the Kleenex between her fingers.
“Well, I started with Campus Catering Services at the beginning of the year,” she says defensively. “But they don’t pay much, and you know I don’t get help from my family for tuition. So actually, I quit after a month and started a new job. It’s also client-facing, just in a different way.”
I stare at my friend, my look suspicious.
“Okay, so what do you do?” I ask in a low voice. “Tell me, Kiki, if I’m going to be filling in for you tonight.”
My friend swallows so hard that I see the lump in her throat move.
“Well, I tried out for this new company, and they liked what they saw, so I got hired?—”
“What company?” I demand. “Like a ballet troupe? I know you like to dance.”
“Idolike to dance,” Kiki responds immediately, her cheeks flushing pink. “So it was a natural fit for me. Basically, I dance at parties. For customers. For men.”
My heart begins to race as I stare at my buddy.
“You’re a dancerfor men?What does that even mean? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
My pretty blonde friend looks alarmed and shakes her head.
“No, no! It’s not bad, or horrible, or anything like that. Basically, guys throw shindigs and they don’t want it to be a sausage fest, so they hire female companions. We’re not doing choreographed routines or precision dancing or anything like that,” she adds quickly. “You don’t have to learn dance steps, or special moves. But yes, we wear sparkly dresses and party with the men,” she says in a faint tone. “Is that okay?”
“No!”I practically screech in response. “Ki, no way. Come on, this ismewe’re talking about. I have two left feet, and there’s no way I could fit into a sparkly dress. I gained the freshman fifteen, which became the sophomore thirty, which has turned into the senior forty. There’s no way.”
“But you’re beautiful, Cin,” Kiki pleads in return, a hint of desperation returning to her voice. “You’d fill out one of my dresses really well, and honestly, those outfits are meant to betight. They look bad on A-cups, and are meant to cling to women with curves. Please, Cindy, don’t back out now!”
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as if in pain. Then I open my eyes and pin my friend with another look.
“Yeah, but what about the dancing? Ican’tdance, Ki. Seriously, I’d trip and fall and land flat on my face. Besides, this is so weird! Who goes to parties just to please men? Oh my god, you guys are strippers, right? OMG, OMG!”
“No, we’re not strippers!” Kiki denies vehemently, waving both of her hands in front of her face. “I would never agree to be a stripper because it’s so low-brow, and that’s not what our clients want either. It’s just dancing around in a slinky outfit, and acting sexy and flirting a little. I promise, it’snotstripping.”
Now, I really feel a migraine coming because this is not what I planned to do with my Friday night. Again, as a big nerd, I have nerdy habits and Friday nights are usually my time to relax with the latest copy ofTheNew Yorker, and a nice pot of chamomile tea. Instead, my friend’s blowing up my cozy evening in by sending me in her place as a raunchy stripper cum entertainer!
But I can’t help but feel for Kiki because I know how hard she works. I also know what it feels like to survive on very little because I’m here on scholarship too. We’re living on the precipice of existence, and sometimes it feels like our entire future hangs on a single midterm or exam. Again, however, the difference between me and Kiki is that good grades come easy to me. I have an excellent memory, and veterinary science has been a good fit.
Meanwhile, Kiki struggles like most other students I know. She hits the books night and day, and while her grades are good,it’s not without struggle. Plus, my friend lives hand to mouth, and my heart contracts because poverty is never easy. So with another reluctant sigh, I nod.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” I say in a grim voice. “But you owe me big time, girl. I mean, this isn’t a small favor. It’s ahugeone.”
Kiki’s big blue eyes go wide with appreciation.
“Yes, of course, and thank you, Cin,” she sniffles before enveloping me in a big bear hug. “I’m so grateful, and yes, I’ll owe you a billion dollars and a trip to the moon! Plus, I have just the outfit for you to wear.” Then, my curvy buddy scampers to her closet before rummaging around in its depths. She reappears with a tiny scrap of fabric dangling from a hanger.
“Here it is!” she says with a smile. “This is perfect for you, Cindy. You’ll look ravishing in this.”
I eye the pink material skeptically because it’s nothing more than a rectangular piece of cloth fluttering in the AC.
“Okay, I get it. A sparkly pink tube top. But what should I wear to go with it? A black skirt? Black heels maybe?”
Kiki lets out a melodious peal of laughter, mirth in her blue eyes.
“No, girlfriend, this isn’t a tube top. This is a tubedress! This is your whole outfit, other than shoes and a purse of course.”
I blink with astonishment at the pink rectangle.
“No way,” I say in a low voice. “There’s not enough material for it to be a dress, Ki. There’s no way that’s an entire outfit in and of itself.”
