The sex addict boy and girl weren’t there. “Karen and Terrance won’t be joining us today,” Dr. B explained.
Wanda giggled and said, “They got caught screwing on the floor of the gazebo in the middle of the town square.”
I asked, “Did somebody see them and call the police?”
“Everybody saw them!” chortled Diane. “It was 1:00 in the afternoon.”
Dr. B coughed lightly and said, “They will be participating in group at the state facility for awhile. Let’s return to the issues within our current group.”
“And what are those?” asked Wanda.
“We could talk about the problem of paying for all this when insurance won’t cover it,” I said, somewhat bitterly.
“My insurance covers it,” said Wanda.
“So does mine,” added Diane.
I looked over at Dr. B. He said softly, “Keep control of yourself, Maddi.”
“I’m in control of myself,” I answered. “I’m just really pissed off that my Dad’s insurance won’t pay because I was naked in public, but theirs will pay even though they raped their own students.”
“It wasn’t rape,” they shouted in unison.
“It was just misdirected love,” Wanda said as she crossed her arms in front of herself.
“Well, if you had done that to me,” I said, “my Dad would have misdirected his truck right across your sorry ass.”
Dr. B evidently knew when things were not going to get better and he said, “I can see that our environment for group today is just too hostile, so I am going to wrap things up early.”
Wanda and Diane both glared at me. I hope my glare at least matched theirs. I decided that I was going to hold my ground so I just sat there and stared at them. Finally they picked up their purses and left together.
“Assuming that you can get the money together to pay everything off,” Dr. B said to me, “this was probably your last group session with me.” He smiled at me and said in a totally normal human voice, “If you still need to deal with things, wait 21 days after our last meeting and then call for an appointment. That will put it in a new case number and your Dad’s insurance should pay 80%… and that will be at the lower rate.”
As I got up to leave, he said, “See you Monday… for the last time, I hope.”
Work was pretty normal except for having to not react when one of the other waitresses asked if I had heard that Beat Girl was going to be live at the Pit tomorrow night. “You ought to watch her webcasts sometime,” she said. “I think you could really learn something.”
I just answered, “I might do that some day,” and bit down hard on my lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing
End of entry for Day Twenty-Nine
Maddi’s Diary, Day Thirty, Saturday
Harold called first thing this morning to say that he was pretty sure that the pay-per-view would help with my expenses. I asked him how many were already committed and he answered, “The numbers aren’t real until the credit card clears. There are a ton of people signed up for reminders, but I can’t actually charge the cards until the show starts and they sign in. I’ll let you know the numbers Sunday morning.”
Shirley also called to say that she was bringing out two of the bouncers to help move the chair and platform. I told her that I had to leave for work, but explained where the key to the studio was hidden.
Work was OK. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad. My tips were down again because I was distracted and not paying enough attention to the customers. I’m normally not a clock watcher, but I kept looking over at the clock to see what time it was. Show time isn’t until 2:00 am, so I am going to drive myself crazy if I keep this up.
The clock slowly dragged its way around to 4:00 and I left for home. There wasn’t anything I needed to do to get ready for tonight’s show, so I surfed the web and read and took a nap.
Shirley said she and Vicki would pick me up at 10:30, so around 8:00 I drew myself a hot bubble bath and soaked for about an hour. Then I used the shower to wash my hair and got it set. I really wanted to wear Shirley’s collar tonight, but she said that it would identify me too clearly since I have been wearing it around town. I gave a deep sigh as I left it on my dresser.
I put my pink cape and mask in a small travel case and set it by the door. I was wearing a white, A-line dress with nothing underneath it. Shirley said that she would park in the back in the owner’s spot in the alley. After we make sure everything is set up back stage, we go out the back door and come in the front like regular customers. Then we can sit in one of the back booths and relax until around 1:30. We go out the front doors like we were leaving and come back in the back door and get ready.
Shirley arrived exactly on time– she always does, and we drove into town. It was 11:00 when we got to The Grease Pit. The parking lot was already absolutely full and cars were parked on the grass by the road. So much for sitting unnoticed in a back booth and relaxing.
Tommy met us at the back door and said, “I’m sold out of tickets, but I’ve got people offering me double or triple to let them stay for the show. If I open the folding doors to the party room, I am legal for 300. Nobody can see from there and nobody will be in there when the show starts, but the cops can’t shut me down for overcrowding. Do you want me to overbook?”
Shirley answered him with, “Be damn sure you keep it under 300. I don’t want any legal surprises in the middle of the show. Do you have some kind of ticket so the bouncers know if someone has paid or snuck in?”
He answered, “Everybody gets a stamp when they turn in their ticket. If they don’t have a big blue GP on their left hand, they aren’t legal.”
“OK,” Shirley shouted. Even backstage it was almost impossible to hear because of the noise of the crowd.
“Looks like we wait back here,” I said.
“Yeah,” answered Vicki, “but if they are sold out and adding 50 more at double price, you are clearing somewhere around $40,000. That ought to clear up your troubles.”
“About that,” Shirley said, somewhat seriously. “When we were figuring what we needed to take in, we forgot Uncle Sam’s cut, and the state’s cut and the city’s. This is all declarable income, plus the state has an entertainment tax and the city has an entertainment surcharge and both have to be paid when we clear the license.”
I looked over at her in shock. “Dad reminded me last night,” she said. “Taxes are going to take about a third, so the extra will bring us back up to where we thought we would be to begin with.”
I must have looked a little disappointed because she raised my chin and said, “Don’t worry. It will be enough. Just worry about the performance.”
We sat in the back talking while we waited for show time. Vicki kept going up and peeking out through the curtain. “You keep that up,” I told her, “and somebody is going to recognize your face.”
I had a sudden thought, “You did bring a mask didn’t you?”
“I’m not that stupid,” she replied, sticking out her tongue. “But I don’t know if it is going to do much good. Anybody who has seen me naked will recognize me. I am pretty distinct down there.”
“How many have seen you fully turned on?” asked Shirley.