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And Smoked Glass
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For the Children
"The children needed so much," Magda thought as she walked down the alley to the service entrance of the restaurant. She went into the employees locker room to change for the lunch trade. She thought back on how the past three months had changed her life. The money certainly helped, but still she doubted that anyone would understand if her secret ever got out. Magda thought of how running into Jake had been a stroke of luck. When she started out as a waitress, the skimpy uniforms made her feel naughty. Her dark brown hair hung down over her shoulders, the low-cut thong covered thighs that still were firm despite years away from dance. The makeup was a far cry from the simple gloss she'd worn for several years. She had gotten use to men staring at her as she walked away. People had always looked but now it was for different reasons. The tips were good, sure the men would brush past her "accidentally" or playfully pinch her butt as she served their steaks, and other food. The pay wasn't bad, the tips were good, and if she smiled or giggled they seemed to pay more. She told herself that this made things so much better at home, "better for the children," as she headed home each night. That same reason helped to push her toward the next level. She remembered the first day the disc jockey introduced her on stage, "The Men's Club is proud to present the debut dance of MEMORABLE MAGDA." The stage was bright, Magda giggled at the thought of Madonna's "Material Girl" being her opening number. The peach organza exposed her nipples as she began her first routine. Magda's movements were fluid. Her pelvis gyrated wildly, thrusting movements emphasized her ample rear as she glanced over her shoulder with a seductive smile. The pronounced movement of her hand loosened a single bone button at her navel. The businessmen looked up as Magda's head snapped back her hair falling loosely over her shoulders. The sheer loose waistcoat dropped down toward her elbows as she closed her eyes. Her body fluttered to hot guitar licks, as Magda took a deep breath thrusting her torso forward as a long rift worked toward a tight crescendo. Her splayed fingers dropped to parallel her thighs as the peach fabric fell through the air. Magda glanced back to smile as middle-aged men lightly fingered and sniffed the gown which had covered her body. Her floor-hugging flourishes carried her body closer to her fans. The fives, tens and twenties made smiling so much easier.
The ten minute routine got so much easier after that first time. She marveled at the money, more than six hundred dollars at first, then a thousand as she refined her skills and learned what worked best. Table dancing, led to visiting and smiles with certain special guests. The thousands each day were so helpful. She would come and go, and her secret way of making money remained discreetly hidden. The third month brought more challenges, as a businessman sought even more from the curvy dark-haired dancer. The man had been a favorite customer. Giving fifties at first and then hundreds for a few minutes of special attention. Still she was surprised when he asked her name. She told him nervously "Magda, Magda Lane." He smiled as he said, "I will see you tomorrow Magda Lane. You will dance for me in a private room." Jake offered no support, and Magda left without offering a definitive response. She waited at her usual spot for her carpool. She saw the van driving up on the hot August afternoon. The door opened as she shouted again "The children need so much." She stepped into the van her white habit damp from just a few minutes in Houston's August humidity. The older nun at the wheel said. "Sister Mary Magdalane you are the best fund-raiser our orphanage has ever had, is there anything more you can do to make these businessmen open their hearts even more for God's Work?" She knew that Magda Lane would work again at her secret job at The Men's Club. She did not consider the wages of sin as she replied, "The children need so much."
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