Adult life

I've had a lot of dreams about being back at the club lately. I've been working an office job for the last 6 months. It's a real "adult" job - I wear professional clothes, park in a parking garage and work in an office in a high rise building in the city. I have a desk and go to conferences and turn in expense reports at the end of the month. I hate it. Every Sunday evening the dread sets in, though by Monday morning it's turned to resignation and boredom. I suppose this is how most adults feel. I can't pretend that I was happy as a stripper...I mean, at first I was but the shelf life is short for that job and by the end I was somewhat of a mess. I'm still living with knuckles - we're attempting to buy a house early next year. We both work decent jobs, yet our income is less than anything I've ever had to deal with. The realization that I can't just go to work and have $700 cash the next day is a tough one.

The day before I had my interview with my current job I got a call from an unknown number. I was actually shopping for some professional outfits when I feel my phone vibrating in my purse. I look at the number and it's a local one, but it doesn't ring a bell. I answer, expecting it to be someone from one of the many jobs I had applied for. Instead the person on the other lines greets me using my stripper name - "uhh hey, who is this," I stutter. It was someone from my old club - he's opening a club that happens to be near where I live now, though he doesn't know this. He asks if I'm still working at the old club and I tell him no. He says he'd love for me to work at his club and tells me a bit about it. He says he'll pay my license fee and that the grand opening is this Saturday. I tell him I might take him up on his offer and ask who I should ask for if I go to apply. The next day I get my current job and I never show up to the grand opening of the club. I do pass their billboard on my commute home.