Wives, Fiancées, and Side-Chicks of Hotlanta

by Shereé Whitfield

  In the short little black dress Casey was wearing, Sasha could see all her glory. At least Casey wasn’t going out like one of those drunken reality TV housewives with a tampon string hanging out. And let the church say amen to the fact that Casey didn’t dress like this at work. Her work attire was always very conservative, and Sasha had never heard a bet placed as to whether Casey wore panties or not.

  As Sasha stood there waiting for Casey to completely climb in, she realized that the only times she’d been in a limo was for prom and the time she was a member of her cousin’s bridal party. Never had she or any of her friends randomly hired a limo just for a night out on the town.

  “You coming or what?” Casey poked her head out of the door.

  Sasha exhaled. “Sure. Wouldn’t want a Hummer limo to go to waste, now would I?” Sasha climbed inside where she was greeted by a glass of Champagne that Casey had poured her.

  “Drink up,” Casey said, tossing back a glass of her own. “You need to catch up with me.”

  Sasha accepted the glass after taking a seat across from Casey. The limo door closed behind them and within seconds they pulled off.

  “The bar is stocked with everything you can think of,” Casey pointed out as she prepared herself a shot. “I’m sure you’ll graduate from Champagne by the time the night is over.”

  “I’m a lightweight, so maybe not.” Sasha took a sip from her glass.

  Her tipsiness getting the best of her, Casey leaned in and said, “I’m sure there are a lot of things you weren’t into before moving to Atlanta, but trust me when I say this town has a way of making you something that you aren’t.” Casey leaned back and toasted up her shot before throwing it down her throat. “Mark my words.”

  Sasha placed her glass to her lips and cautiously took a sip. Casey’s words almost sounded like a warning. Surely there was a cautionary tale to go along with it, one that Sasha would have never guessed in a million years.

  “Turn down for what?” Casey shouted as she approached the bouncer outside of the club, Sasha on her heels, observing her surroundings.

  Besides Marty’s Bar, Sasha hadn’t been out drinking in Atlanta, so she had no idea what type of place Casey had taken her to. She figured it had to be pretty high class if it warranted a limo transporting them to it.

  “As always, it’s a pleasure, Mrs. Cortz,” the bouncer greeted Casey.

  That was Sasha’s first sign that wherever they were, Casey was a regular. That kinda sorta made Sasha feel somewhat safe. She couldn’t imagine Casey frequenting a place that was trouble, if not for her own reputation at the firm, for her husband’s, who was a local celebrity, as well as recognized as a role model to young sports fans across the map.

  Sasha noticed the few men who were outside of the establishment. A couple of the men were smoking cigars, looking quite sophisticated. There was one thing Sasha could say about Atlanta; it may have been known for its PYTs, also known as Georgia peaches, but the men were equally juicy.

  “The pleasure is always mine.” Casey took her thumb and dipped it right into the single dimple on the bouncer’s left cheek.

  Sasha watched as the hard-core, three-hundred-pound, muscular man almost turned to mush right there before the women’s eyes. He blushed while extending his hand for Casey and Sasha to enter. By the time Sasha was in front of him, his smile was gone and he wore the same hard look he’d worn when they’d first walked up to the club.

  Once Sasha and Casey made their way through the doors, they landed in a small, dimly lit foyer. A woman with legs for days, dressed in a black miniskirt suit, greeted them. Her hair was in a bun that sat atop her head. Studious-looking black framed glasses made Steve Urkel look like a geek, but they made her look like every man’s fantasy. You know, the secretary type woman who pulls her hair out of a bun, removes her suit, and is left wearing nothing but a man’s white, crisp dress shirt and fuck-me pumps. That was her all day.

  The woman’s fire red–polished nails tapped on the clipboard in her hands. “Mrs. Cortz,” the woman said, “your VIP section awaits you. Right this way.” She opened the huge black metal door and all of a sudden the small foyer room that had been stone quiet with the exception of the woman’s voice was now filled with bass and lyrics from the latest “it” rapper.

  The woman looked over her shoulder to make sure Casey and Sasha were following behind her as they entered the club.

  “Well, I’ll be dammed,” Sasha let slip from her lips as she looked around the room. Within seconds she felt as if she’d been zapped from one world, Earth, to another, the planet of Ecstasy.

  The room was pretty much just as dim as the foyer had been. The red, royal purple, and yellow lighting did brighten it just a tad more. Sasha could see silhouettes, but not the full facial features of the patrons who sat in oval booths with high backs like Sasha’s favorite ride at the state fair back in Ohio. A small, fancy, crystal-like modern lantern was the centerpiece on each table. Everything about the place whispered incognito while it screamed sex.

  Topless waitresses with tasseled nipples to match the lighting color scheme pranced about with trays of drinks and food. From what Sasha could see, there was no bar area nor bartenders. In the center of the room, though, was a round lit-up stage. It had poles like a carousel, but no horses . . . just women. All kinds of women. Every shape, size, height, race, and complexion. The same way a carousel had a variety of pretty horses donning beautiful, colorful saddles, these women had donned such eye catching costumes. The ceiling of the round stage had white lights. It was clear that the only thing that was to be seen was the featured entertainment. After all, that was the most visible thing in the room.

  The hostess led them through the club, up a few stairs, to an area that looked more like a sitting room than one of the booths on the lower level. Sasha was so preoccupied by what was going on around her in the club that she didn’t pay much attention to where she was walking. She bumped into a waitress as well as a gentleman heading back to his table. By the time the woman who’d led them to their spot extended her hand for them to sit, Sasha was exhausted.

  She had seen so many people of different races, shapes, sizes, and choice in hairstyles and clothing. She didn’t want to stare, but she could have sworn she’d passed a cross-dressing couple. Yes, the person dressed in men’s clothing had feminine features while the person dressed as a woman had manly features.

  She felt like she’d just accompanied Alice on her fall down the rabbit hole and was on a real live trip. The only difference was that Wonderland was made up. This right here was real, and from the look of things, as the already dim lights dimmed down to almost pure darkness, it was about to go down.

  The music cut off and even the lights on the carousel dimmed to darkness. Suddenly the rap music was replaced by familiar carnival music. Sasha heard a mysterious Vincent Price–sounding voice boom through the speakers that were stationed throughout the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have been waiting for has finally arrived.”

  Sasha watched Casey get all excited as she began bouncing her knee. “Here we go,” she said to Sasha, who wouldn’t necessarily describe the emotion she was feeling as excited.

  For about two seconds the entire venue went black, then the center stage lit up just like a carousel at night. Except for the music, there was dead silence in the room, as if the pope were about to speak at the Vatican during Holy Week.

  Sasha looked down at Casey’s hand on her knee. She squeezed Sasha’s knee with excitement, like she knew what to expect. Sasha, on the other hand, sat nervously because she didn’t know what to expect.

  As the stage spun, on one of the poles appeared a woman in a get-up fit for a New Orleans Mardi Gras parade. Feathers, sequins, sparkles, and rhinestones covered her nude-colored costume. She was as still as a statue and a masquerade mask covered her face. Her appearance obviously excited the crowd: they began to whistle and howl.

  Casey cheered, elbowing a stiff Sasha.
Sasha looked over at Casey, realizing she was signaling for her to join in on the whooping and hollering as well. Sasha squirmed just a tad in her seat. She felt like a fish out of water, and even if her discomfort showed on her face, Casey was too far gone to have recognized it anyway. If she had, she sure didn’t give a damn, because she was steadily trying to get Sasha to join in on what she considered fun.

  Sasha, out of courtesy, simply smiled and gave a fake little clap, all the while mumbling, “Lord have mercy. What in the hell have I gotten myself into?”

  Chapter 6

  After the moving carousel stage, which was the only thing lit up in the dark room, did a complete 360 with the woman clinging to a pole, the floor lights flickered; then came the sound of a smooth R & B thug song. The woman slowly wound her body up and down to the music. It took a minute before Sasha realized the dim houselights were now back in business, all while Miss Thing handled hers on that pole. She was tall and thick. Sasha had to give ole girl her props. She was working those poles as she intertwined her body in between them, landing in awkward and acrobatic positions.

  A server carried over a tray full of appetizers and set it down. Unless Sasha had missed Casey placing the order, this must have been part of the VIP treatment. Casey’s little skinny butt was the first to dive into the delicacies. She grabbed a chicken wing. For all the alcohol she’d guzzled thus far tonight, Sasha figured the petite girl was going to need more than just a chicken wing to soak up all that liquor.

  Strip clubs had never been and were not a place that Sasha frequented. She’d been to a male revue before as part of a bachelorette party she’d attended, but she’d never been to a strip club in which the featured dancers were females. Why would she? She didn’t get down like that. She barely had time for a man in her life, one whom she was attracted to, let alone the female of the species, to which she had no attraction to at all. Sasha had to admit, though, that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the show taking place before her. It wasn’t just the typical striptease act. This woman was performing. She was putting in work, and she deserved every single dollar some of the audience members began to walk up and place on the stage.

  “This is nice, eh? She’s good, right?” Casey said, popping a jalapeño bite into her mouth.

  “She is working it!” Sasha said. “The girl is bad.” Not wanting to seem like she was not too into it, Sasha grabbed a nacho, broke it in half, and popped one of the halves in her mouth.

  “Good, I was hoping you would say that.” Casey stood up. She looked around until she spotted one of the servers. She made eye contact with the woman and then waved her over.

  Once the waitress approached their table, Sasha witnessed Casey say something in her ear. The music prevented Sasha from hearing what Casey had said. After a few seconds, the woman walked away and Casey sat back down.

  “Here, drink up.” Casey poured Sasha a drink from one of the chilled bottles that sat in an ice bucket in the center of the table. They’d already been in place prior to their arrival. “Bottle service, baby.” She handed Sasha the drink she’d poured her.

  Sasha took a sip. She frowned. “What is this?”

  “Never you mind.” Casey laughed. “Just drink. Have fun. Let your hair down. We have a designated driver so you can get white girl wasted if you want.” Casey guzzled down her own glass full of the alcohol. “I know I am.” She then began to bounce and dance as the music changed into a rap song. Next she turned her attention back to the lone woman on the stage. “Don’t stop, get it, get it,” Casey cheered.

  Sasha looked down at her drink. She then looked over at all the fun her coworker seemed to be having. “Oh, hell. Why not?” Sasha said as she looked down at the drink again, frowned, preparing herself to throw it back. The strong liquid rushed down her throat, feeling like it had left a trail of fire. Sasha coughed a couple times.

  “Here. Chase it with this.” Casey handed her a bottled water and then focused back on the night’s featured entertainment.

  Sasha darn near drank the entire bottle of water down. She covered her mouth, let out a small belch, and then felt much better. She shifted in her seat a little bit to get comfortable, then watched as the dancer bounced all over that stage like she herself was a horse on a carousel. As Sasha watched the woman dance, something about her moves seemed so familiar, but before she could even think about it anymore, the woman’s dance was over and paper bills were floating to the stage. Sasha watched as the woman accepted some cash right from patrons’ hands, adding in a little flirting with the twist of her hips, the licking of her lips, and the shimmying of her shoulders.

  “I’m going to head to the bathroom,” Sasha said to Casey.

  “Hold up,” Casey said. She once again stood and summoned over the server whom she had called over just moments earlier.

  Sasha watched as, once again, Casey said something to the woman and then turned her attention back to Sasha. “She’s going to take you.”

  “Come with me.” The server grabbed Sasha’s hand and maneuvered her through the club, up a small flight of steps, and then down a short hallway. At the end of the hallway was a door. The server cracked the door open and then stuck her head inside.

  Sasha watched as the server made certain there was no one in there. She opened the door and then stepped to the side to allow Sasha to enter.

  Sasha stepped in thinking she was going to immediately see a toilet and a sink. Instead she saw a seating area with a sectional couch. There was one of those square suede storage table things next to the couch, and a mobile bar on wheels with two barstools. It was lit with purple lightbulbs from a small two-tiered chandelier that hung on the ceiling in the middle of the small space.

  Sasha looked around the love shack. “Bathroom,” she said to the server. “I needed to go to the bathroom.” Not the damn Champagne room, she thought.

  “Right that way.” The server pointed to a door right past the bar.

  “Okay, thank you.” Sasha headed for the door. She knocked, not knowing if it was a single bathroom or one with stalls.

  “It’s okay. No one is in there,” the server said.

  Sasha opened the door and entered the single bathroom. It actually reminded her of her own bathroom at her apartment. It was private, clean, and actually smelled good. As Sasha lined the toilet seat with toilet paper, she looked around to see if she could spot where the air freshener was hiding itself. She noticed a flower-shaped oil refill plug-in air freshener.

  After using the bathroom, Sasha went over to the sink, where a touch-free soap dispenser spit soap into her hands. “I need one of those in my life,” Sasha told herself. It was weird that the most comfortable space Sasha had been in the entire club was the frickin’ bathroom. She couldn’t imagine that any patron who had to go to the bathroom would be escorted to that one. The line for the bathroom would probably end up looking like the line outside the club. She was sure there was a more public bathroom elsewhere in the club; one that did actually have stalls. She chalked this up as another VIP perk.

  After rinsing her hands and drying them, Sasha exited the bathroom. “Jesus!” she screamed at the figure that lay across the sofa. Even though there were only royal purple bulbs lighting the room, Sasha recognized the performer by the clothes she wore. “My goodness. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here.” Sasha’s hand rested across her heart, which was beating ninety miles per hour. “I’m all finished.” Sasha let the woman know the bathroom was all hers.

  The woman stood.

  Not wanting to be a hater, Sasha thought she’d compliment the woman before she made her way back outside the room and rejoined Casey. “You killed it out there tonight. I mean, girlfriend, you worked it.”

  Without saying a single word, the woman walked over to an intercom box on the wall. Sasha stood confused as she watched the woman play with the dial. Sasha practically jumped out of her skin when a slow tune wailed out of the box. Before Sasha could say or do anything, she stood and watched as the
woman sashayed over to her. She stood in front of Sasha and began slow winding her body. She repeated some of the exact same dances Sasha had just seen her perform on stage, still in full costume, masquerade mask and all.

  “Oh, okay then,” Sasha said, not knowing what to do.

  The woman began to circle Sasha before she stopped right behind Sasha. She wasn’t touching Sasha, but she was close enough that Sasha could feel the dancer’s body heat. All sorts of words and thoughts danced around in Sasha’s head. Should she tell this woman to go on somewhere? Should she tell her she didn’t get down like that; that she was only there because a friend had brought her to the club? What to do? What not to do?

  “Uhh, so, uhh,” Sasha stammered as the dancer made her way back in front of Sasha.

  The next thing Sasha knew, the woman had bent over and was shaking her rump, then she did a quick split to the floor. A thump could be heard even over the music.

  Sasha turned in her knees tight and covered her own womanhood, just imagining how it had to have hurt to drop it like it was hot. But the woman was not fazed as she picked it right back up again and began twerking.

  At this point Sasha couldn’t do anything but start looking around the room for some hidden cameras. No way was this really happening to her. What the hell had Casey given her to drink to make her hallucinate like this? It was time to get the hell up out of here.

  “Look,” Sasha said, “I know this is how you pay your bills, and I am not mad at you.” Sasha dug into her clutch. “I don’t know how much a trip to the Champagne room usually costs, but a sistah was just trying to go take a pee.” She pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “But here’s a twenty for your efforts.”

  The woman shook her head, refusing to accept Sasha’s money. “It’s paid for already,” she said softly and seductively.

  “Huh? What?” Had Sasha really just heard this woman right? “Paid for? But I didn’t—” Sasha’s words trailed off as a lightbulb went off in her head. “Casey’s VIP treatment.” The lightbulb in Sasha’s head was not purple, though. It was red!