Walking into the club, I am confident. I have a cute outfit with me, my hair is newly dyed, and my makeup is wonderful.
A bouncer tells me to get changed and follow him onto the floor. I sit by the bar and wait for someone to come tell me when I’ll go up to audition. The dancer onstage (I think her name was Isis) is thin, with small pert breasts and a tight athletic butt. I look down at my soft, pale stomach and fidget.
No matter, I’m just a different type of beautiful. Not necessarily athletic, but soft, curvy and feminine. I sit, a bouncer offers me water, which I accept and do not drink. Another dancer begins her routine. Similar in build to Isis, this girl is thicker through the torso, but with larger breasts. She too has a toned stomach and tight ass.
I slowly begin to realize that I am undeniably the largest girl in this club. There are girls here with pouting bellies and sagging breasts, but none with the amount of fat that I have. The longer I wait, the larger my thighs seem to become, and the manager keeps me waiting for close to an hour.
Looking around I realize the chances of me being hired are slim, but all the same I strike up a conversation with a customer, flirting to the best of my ability, and showing anyone who may have been watching that I could hustle and that I could make them money.
I audition to Living Dead Girl by Rob Zombie. It is one of my favorite songs to dance to, but even it couldn’t kill my self-doubt. During that one song, I felt more self-conscious than I did my first night dancing.
The bouncer told me that they’d “give me a call.” I’m not stupid, I know what that means.
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ah, self-esteem ducks it's head in uncertainty....
ReplyDeletestory of my life. i've never had a body that i could make money off of, although, many years ago, i would trade it for drugs. or approval. or companionship. but no matter what, i was always taking inventory of it, comparing it....finding it lacking. even still....
it is so hard to believe in my own beauty.