Ginny's Story A novel by Karen Lockhart Copyright© 2018 Karen Lockhart All Rights Reserved.

CHAPTER 77

The rest of the week went by with uniform boredom, if that was possible in a club like this. It was really busy on Friday with a lot of patrons at the bar, this meant a lot of tips for the three of us, so no one complained.

I will say I paid more attention to Cathy's reactions to me and any teasing about my stage act. I'll admit, under her make up I recognized which ballplayer Cathy was, and he was a really good looking guy. As with a lot of 2nd basemen he was average height and looked to weigh about 140 lbs. Look at me! I'm checking out a guy in a dress. Who better I guess.

I dressed in my Toni cat-suit and this time brought the tiger full head mask we had so much fun with on Halloween. I drove this time so Jean was able to rubber-neck and watch the antics of the traffic headed north for the weekend.

Jean and I headed straight for her dressing room. I waved the tiger head at her and asked if I should do make-up tonight.

“Sure, why not, you may find the mask's too hot and only wear it once. I guess you'll have enough time to do your make-up between acts.

Terri and I slithered across the stage around 5 PM and again every 30 minutes. Jean was right, that mask was so hot, I had a hard time catching my breath. So on went Toni the tiger's make-up, and down went a ice cold bottle of spring water.

We did our act twelve times that night, with a break around 11 O'clock. I have more appreciation for how fit Jean is. She was tired, but I was exhausted.

We both took a bottled water for the ride home. During the drive home, I rethought about dancing each Saturday night. Even in better shape, this was a lot of work! I still remember Jean saying she lost eight pounds each night she danced. Now I believed her.

'Well, we have tomorrow off, so I'll add this to my discussion list with Ellen. I might get Wendy's thoughts also on this,' I said to myself.

I dropped Jean off, refusing her offer of a drink, saying I'd fall asleep before I could drink it. I dragged myself up the stairs, and quietly opened and closed the door, so as not to wake Wendy. I washed my make-up off and collapsed on my bed.

As usual, the smell of coffee woke me around 9:30 in the morning. After taking care of things in the bathroom, I tossed on a worn pair of jeans and a LL Bean sweatshirt. For my feet I grabbed my “Wicked Good” fleece lined slippers, and shuffled into the kitchen.

Ellen handed me a large mug filled with steaming hot coffee. Once I stopped answering her questions with grunts, Ellen asked me again if bacon and eggs sounded okay.

“Instead of toast, I thought English muffins would be a nice change,” Ellen said. “Would you like jam on them like Wendy?”

That produced a smile, “I'd love strawberry jam on mine Ellen, do you need any help?” I asked.

“Sit back, I can fry eggs.” Ellen laughed, “And on a good day, boil water too.”

At that I smiled, and asked if Ellen could fry me four eggs, I was starving. Wendy refilled my coffee mug, then started a fresh pot of coffee.

“You still look tired, Aunt Ginny,” Wendy said, “What time did you finally go to bed?”

“I fell asleep ten minutes after I came in, about 3 AM, but I woke up tired, honey,” I answered, “This stripping may be too much for me, I have to talk with Ellen and get her opinion.”

I made those eggs disappear in record time. As Ellen and I did the dishes, I asked for her honest opinion on me doing the stripper routine each Saturday.

“I don't know Ginny, do you like doing it?” Ellen asked.

“I did the first time, but yesterday not so much, I did my act so many times I lost count.”

“Well, the next question is money, do you really make more, and do you need more than your bar tender's pay?”

“No, I don't need more than my regular pay and tips. We figured if I work five days a week, for fifty weeks that's 250 days. If I make an average of $1300 each day, that equals $325,000 per year. Oh my gosh, why would anyone need more than that?”

“You just answered one question Ginny; now about performing twelve times every Saturday, you seem exhausted after just one day. Do you want to feel like this each Sunday? Is it worth it for $400 a week more? That's $20,000 a year but it's based on splitting tips with Jean. What happens if she gets tired of splitting the tips? Are you ready to do a solo act? You realize that may lead to you stripping more often until it's five days a week.”

“Ellen, that's what has been bothering me, I was feeling a slight chill in Jean's laugh last night. I don't want to list my occupation as 'Adult entertainer' on the census either.”

“My advice to you is to have a talk with your Mister Logan and tell him that you're not comfortable with “Toni the Tiger” and want to be just Ginny the bartender. If he's as nice a man as you say, he'll thank you for what you did, and everything will go back to the way it was,” Ellen paused, “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”

As Ellen and I talked, Wendy was sitting there quietly, nodding her head when Ellen spoke, but now she burst out with, “Aunt Ginny has a guy!”

Ellen's eyebrows arched as she asked, “The ice orchards?”

I took a deep breath then started, “Remember the two guys that always sit at my section of the bar, and even followed me from the smaller bar downstairs? Well one of them dresses as an attractive woman and likes to be called Cathy. In the real world, Cathy is an infielder for the Red Sox.”

“She's the one who gave you the orchids?” asked Ellen.

“Yes, she sits with this older gentleman named Hiram, whose last name happens to be Logan,” I said.

“Logan?” Wendy asked, “The same name as the boss?”

“His father,” I answered, “And better still, the real owner of the Club!”

“Oh wow, is this the guy that acts like you're his daughter?” asked Wendy, “Why don't you ask him?”

Ellen and I just looked at her.

“Out of the mouths of babes,” laughed Ellen

“What a great idea! I'll talk to Hiram on Monday and see what he thinks.”

“The big question is, do you like this Cathy?” Ellen asked. “And if you do, what are you going to do about it?”

I started to giggle, “Well, clothes shopping would be fun, and she's worn a couple of outfits that I would like to borrow.”

Now Ellen caught the giggle bug, “Dating would be interesting, Seventy-five percent of the other people would hate him as either a cross-dresser or a TG, and if they thought he really was a girl, they'd hate both of you, thinking you were lesbians.”

Now Wendy jumped in, “If you guys got married, which one wears the wedding gown?”

I ended this by putting on the Patriots football game. It should be a close one, they're playing the Broncos at home in Foxborough.

I quickly threw together some tuna salad sandwiches and chicken noodle soup to eat during the game. I was right, it was a wild game with the lead going back and forth until the end of the fourth quarter, when the Patriots scored two quick touchdowns to win the game.

I hate this time of year, only 4 PM and it was getting dark already.

Ellen and I watched the next game while Wendy took her computer into my bedroom and did whatever she does on the computer. It's all over my head; she's tried to explain how to do things, but the only thing that stuck was how to 'cut' and 'paste'!

During half-time of the game, I got out the leftovers of the pot roast dinner, the mashed potatoes, and gravy. I defrosted some frozen asparagus spears, and had dinner ready in no time.

Being football nuts, Ellen and I watched the late game while Wendy and Ariana texted back and forth. Meanwhile, Ellen and I continued to talk about “Toni” and her possibly short career.

By the half, about 10 PM, we decided that next Saturday would be her last performance.
Now I had to brace myself and talk to Ian Logan. Time for Ellen and Wendy to turn in. I could sleep as late as I wanted tomorrow. When I got up, I'd call Jean and let her know that 'Toni the Tiger' would only perform once more.

When I entered the kitchen for my breakfast and infusion of caffeine, it was 11 O'Clock, Ellen and Wendy were thinking of lunch, while I was making scrambled eggs with crushed bacon. I dug around and found some more English muffins and a jar of marmalade preserves.

Breakfast over, I decided to bring up my stripping with Jean on the ride to work. As I was getting my things together for the night I heard a horn beep; Jean was right on time. Waiting until we were close to the Ted Williams tunnel (Ted was a Red Sox Outfielder, and not only a war hero, but the best hitter in baseball) I brought up with Jean performing on stage with her.

Jean was quiet as I explained my reasons, but gave me a quick cheek peck saying she actually was surprised I'd agreed to work every Saturday. Splitting the tips would cut her pay by about half the amount taken in. Secretly, I think she was relieved with my decision, this way we will remain close friends.

Now to handle Ian Logan!