She's a backdoor kind of girl

“Fuck you!” Lexi shouted as she stumbled backwards from the shop. The door was quickly shut in her face and she heard the distinct click as the lock turned, the Help Wanted sign was yanked from the window and the glass frosted itself opaque. That was the second establishment today where she’d been curtly informed that the Help Wanted sign was a mistake and there would be no employment to be found for the likes of her. And what did that even mean - the likes of her? Lexi was an attractive young woman wearing her brightest pink pair of shorts and her heels that made her legs go on for days. She had on a new top which didn’t feature questionable motifs or straight up drug nomenclature and her hair was a perfectly respectable length, colored yellow so as to make her appear qualified and polished.

She rearranged herself and strutted down the street, her steps floundering from time to time as she navigated the sidewalk and the wicked come-down from last night’s drugs. It had been a particularly bumpin’ party scene and when she woke up that morning in the bed of a man she knew to be unemployed, she decided then and there that it was time to find a job. So she showered, borrowed a few clicks from the passed out man’s pockets and with legs still shaking, walked herself to the nearest boutique and procured this choice blouse that covered up everything it was supposed to, which is to say the midriff was still exposed.

Lexi had been around the block a few times so the hypersexualization of individuals entirely committed to the use and abuse lifestyle was nothing new or head turning. Despite the slums being such a ratty, low trodden place to live, everywhere you looked you were presented with in-your-face billboards and marketing for people’s needs, instincts and desires with claims that all three were merged in whatever single product of the month that was being pimped. But all Lexi cared about this morning was finding a respectable job. And getting high.

Morning turned into afternoon and her luck hadn’t improved any. One generous clerk had been kind enough to pass her a paper wrapped sandwich under the counter while his boss apologized and informed Lexi they were fully staffed. Right before rudely asking her to leave and make room for paying customers. Lexi moved on and found a clean bench to sit and tried to eat, but her stomach wasn’t having it. She never had much of an appetite and even less when she was feeling unwell from too much partying. She lifted the bread and picked through what passed for meat then tossed it in the garbage, brushing off her hands.

Hot Girls xXx Private Dances

Lexi was staring at the spinning sign and shaking her head. A strip bar right across from the deli. There was no zoning in the Slums. Screw it, she’d danced before and it hadn’t killed her. She wasn’t having any success going the proper road and credits were credits. She crossed the littered street and passed under the red neon lights of Bottoms Up Gentlemen’s Club. The man at the door barred her way, shaking his head. “Girls need a male escort," he recited.

Lexi new the drill. “Relax hoss, I’m not here to scope out your women. I’m here to demean myself on stage and flash my tits around. I’m looking for work, buddy.” She cupped her breasts and shook out her hair as it sprayed into neon pink curtains running down her back.

“You’ve got enhancements,” the doorman lauded, taking his time to look her over.

“I got experience too, Hoss,” she told him, craning her neck to look inside. She couldn’t see the stage from here.

“My name’s Jerry,” he told her, actually sounding injured.

“And my name’s Lexi, but you don’t give a shit. So can I go in? Who do I talk to?”

And things moved along from there. She was told to wait at the bar and after a few winks and coy smiles had a gratis beverage placed in front of her. She discarded the lime and downed the shot, rolling the glass off the back of her hand. A well dressed man with slicked back hair emerged from a red door and snapped his fingers at her. They spoke in his office with the door closed which involved a lot of him talking and her smiling and laughing and finally a few minutes of quality time beneath his desk. Before she could brush off her knees he had her on the lineup for that evening with a promise from her that she’d provide her own wardrobe and didn’t mind a bit of extracurricular endeavors.

Lexi walked out of that office hating herself for feeling like a million clicks. The bartender pointed at his mouth and handed her a napkin. Lexi took his meaning and casually cleaned herself up, waved goodbye and told Hoss at the door to expect her back that evening. He looked her up and down again then told her strippers use the back door from now on. That’s what she was and that’s how life went for Lexi.

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