Steal My Stuff: July 2011

Beep.

'Hello Samantha, it's me again. I forgot the reason I rang before. These things always make me nervous. Umm, I don't know what you're doing at the moment...'

What the hell you think I'm doing? Having sex in some big orgy?

'...Dad wants to invite you to dinner tonight.'

Ha! Don't think so.

'We'll have schnitzel. Beef, of course. Not chicken. I know you don't like chicken.'

Coz I've told you, like, a billion times?

'We can have a family meal. Like we used to. All three of us.'

Borrring.

'Umm, so drop a message. I mean, send a message or drop a line. I mixed them up. I'm so silly.'

You can say that again.

'…'

I rub sleep from my eyes and pull the phone away from my ear - still connected. I wait.

She finally talks again.

'We haven't seen you since your 21^st and, well, Dad misses you. He talks about you all the time. He's been such a pain the last month, trying to finish off the verandah. I told him to get some help but he won't budge. It's no good for his back. The silly old fool thinks he can do everything he used to. He's even worse at work – racing with the young guys.'

Wait, young guys?

'He needs to move up to the office and get away from the shop floor.'

Yeah, but back to these young guys...

'Honestly, I don't know what to do with him. The only reas-'

Beep.

'One unread message,' blares the phone. 'Eleven thirty-two A.M.'

I squint out the bright window. It's way too early to be up. I fall back onto the bed.

'Samii!' says the rough voice of Dave on the mobile. 'Got a gig for you tonight. An eighteenth. Asked for you 'specially. Give's a call back and I'll let ya know the details. Catch ya, babe.'

Ooh! I'm awake now! The thought of a gig always gets me going. It's like, anything's possible, anything can happen. Makes me a little nervous and a lot excited. The three hundred dollars is handy, too.

'Mmfmm,' muffles a voice under the pillow.

I search for my clothes. The treasure hunt takes me all over the room. I pull at my fishnets, wedged behind the desk, and nearly go flying tits over arse when they come free. Above the desk is a large poster of some real old guy with a dodgy moustache and freaky hair. He looks like a pedo. The writing above him says: “Great spirits have often encountered violent opposition from weak minds.”

I think about it for a bit - it can take me a while to get these things. I laugh. So true. Funny fucker.

'Oh,' says the guy in bed. 'You're uh, still here.'

'Yep,' I say.

'Shit!' he says.

What the fuck does that mean?

He jumps out of bed. 'I'm late.'

Oh.

'Where are you going?' I ask, while slipping on my Zanotti sandals.

'Umm,' he says.

'Don't worry. I don't wanna come with you or anything. Just making conversation.'

'Oh. Yeah. I'm late for class. I don't wanna miss any of it, the lecturer's fuckin hot.' He looks at me and shrugs. 'I like older women.'

I smile and look at him for the first time. His nose is massive. His hair all stringy. Pretty fugly with the light on.

'What umm, what are you learning?' I ask.

'Do you mean what subject is the lecture on? Or what degree am I doing? They're different things, you know.'

'No, I know,' I lie. 'Umm, what degree?'

'I told you last night.'

'It's not a good night if you remember it.' My turn to shrug.

He sniffs. He waits.

I know he wants me to leave but he's being an arsehole. So I take my time brushing my hair.

'Can I keep that poster?' I say, pointing above the desk.

He snorts. 'No. Don't think so.'

Hmmm. Gotta remember to ask before, not after.

'Anyway, I gotta go,' he says.

I don't move. I look over at him patiently. 'OK.'

You wanna play games? I can play games.

'Fine, stay then,' he says, storming out of the room. 'Just don't steal anything!'

When the door to the unit closes I stand quickly and stumble out the room. Yep, way too early to be up.

I've almost left the joint when I stop, turn back, and snatch the poster from the wall. That's what you get for being a prick.

I plonk my phone down near the sink. Mum hasn't called again so she probably got the hint.

I wish I had these massive mirrors at home. They look amazing. I'll see if someone knows how much they cost. Oh well, last-minute check time.

My blonde hair looks nice and wavy down my shoulders, but the fringe is still giving me problems. I press it down but now it looks pressed down. Argh, now my roots are showing through - I really need a colouring.

That don't matter, other things they can look at.

I press my boobs together so that more cleavage shows above the silver and frilly tubular top. I turn a little to the side.

You don't need massive boobs to do this job – it's more about having confidence in your body. I do feel a little sorry for the girls with nothing at all, but if they're that concerned they can always get a little boobs 'r' us work done.

I fiddle with the top. Yeah, don't think I'll be needing surgery.

The ruffled skirt looks amazing. It's like I've got nothing on underneath.

I shove my phone down the silver fuck-me boots, which look fine and all...but I just feel naked without my Zanotti's.

'Hey, you ready babe?' shouts Dave, just outside the door of the toilets. He's a good guy. I've had rep's who just wanna fuck after the gig. I'm not a prostitute! The funny thing is, they're always the ones with small dicks.

'Hang on,' I say, and finish putting the circle-y bit on top of my head. I thought this would be the best costume, with where we are and all. It totally matches. Dave said to go with the cop outfit but that's got nothing to do with this place. I guess that's why I'm the stripper and he's just, like, a helper.

We walk down the corridor together. Everyone looks. All girls are just haters, anyway. And they're jealous. They got nothing on me.

I notice some of the younger guys looking weirdly at me. Fuck off you pricks, you'll probably hire me to do your bucks night.

But it's all fine. I'm here coz I wanna be here. Don't matter what they think.

'Samii,' says Dave, 'this is Debbie.'

She looks at me even worse than the nurses, or whatever the fuck they were. What's her problem? She isn't hot enough to look at me like that. Just all old and wrinkly and in need of a colouring even more than me! Hell, she needs to put her head in some massive water thing to wash off whatever's growing in her oily, gross hair. Heh, good one.

'Oh, I'm glad you could make it,' says the bitch.

I'm not like when I was younger. You can't think one thing and say something completely different, put on an act. It won't work for me. I've had enough friends in my life to know it. That's what separates the good friends from the bad ones: they only talk about you behind your back, not to your face.

I nod, smiling. 'It's fine.'

'Brad's really looking forward to this,' she says. 'It's what he wants.' She looks down for a moment. The bitch can't even look me in the eye. 'And if it's what he wants, it's what we want. You know?'

I touch the little wings on my back to make sure they're still there.

'We just,' she says, 'we don't know how long...'

The old woman screws up her face which reminds me a bit of mum. Then she covers her face with her hands and rushes into the room.

'Uh, maybe we should just get started, ay babe?' says Dave.

Thank christ. Thought I was gonna be in the corridor all night.

I brush more glitter across my bare tummy and psych myself up. I feel that throbin' beat from the room. It's the start of Closer. It just 'verbs all though my chest, getting louder and stronger.

'...You let me desecrate you...'

I burst through the door and start my routine without even looking. A few poses, a few slinky body moves. Just the standard stuff while I get warmed up.

I hear a few woo's from the boys along the wall. They're all seventeen or eighteen, sitting in a row on this long bench, almost like they were still at school. Not much quality there. Way too young for me, anyway.

'...Help me; I've got no soul to sell...'

I dance over to the big bed in the middle of the room and bend forward, showing my cleavage. I've positioned myself so that my arse is also pointing at the boys. One of them gasps. Without turning I know that he's got a little too excited and Dave's had to calm him down, in his own way.

Another few steps and I'm up near the top of the bed. The boy has all these wires and stuff coming from everywhere. He looks a bit unsure. But cute. Nice bad-boy shaved head. Maybe I should see what he's doing when he gets out of here. What was his name? Brad? Wait for this one, Brad!

I raise up and flick my hair - 'I wanna fuck you like an animal' – letting it come free.

I'm not normally a fan of NIN but this one gets me going!

I squat a bit, dangling my hair over the boy's face while giving more of a back show for the friends.

When I rise up Brad's got a massive grin on his face. Heh, he wants to fuck me like an animal, the cutie. I smile back.

With a flick I leave him that circle thing that was on my head. It was annoying me anyway.

The song fades and mixes with a new one. I like to begin with a fully dressed set at the start, then move onto- Wait! What's this? I thought it was Pussycat Dolls next. Oh yeah, I don't have buttons, so probably good he skipped it.

'...Nothing feels right when I'm not with you...'

I also don't have a T-shirt on, but I love this song so who cares?

A few bumps on the floor and some leg stretching later, I'm getting ready to give the birthday boy an even better show.

'...gotta be strong, I'm really hurtin' now that you're gone...'

Must suck being in hospital, especially for your eighteenth. I couldn't stand not being able to go out and have fun. Luckily, it's Samii to the rescue!

I strut around the bed and turn so I'm facing the big white curtain thing, almost tripping over a gold Guess handbag on the floor. Must be that old woman's. She's got good taste.

My hands release the clamp on my top – it falls quickly to the floor. I do some hot bendy moves to get them thinking about what's to come. With my boobs cupped I turn and step up onto the little metal case in front of the bed. I picture the boys in their school uniforms. Man, remember when I was that young?

In a flash I remove my hands and show 'em my body. They go fuckin' wild. I love audiences like this! Dave is hovering over them but they're harmless anyway so I'm not worried.

I let my fingers wander all over my body. Ooh, that reminds me, I haven't done a wet show for ages. I should come up with something later.

'...In bed I lay, with nothing but your T-shirt on...'

A jump and I'm next to the bed, leaning down over the boy. “Happy Birthday, Brad,” I whisper, letting my lips touch his ear. Don't get me wrong, I don't normally do any touching – I'm not that kind of stripper – but this poor boy's in hospital and I know he wouldn't hurt a fly.

I stay bent over him for a bit longer, knowing my boobs are rubbing against him. When I do stand up I notice that he's joined me, in his own way.

With my boobs held, I push them together and play with the nipples. Guys always like that. I turn a few times to make sure both Brad and his friends get a good show. When I turn back once more I accidentally knock the curtain and it swings open a bit. There's another guy there. For a split second I lose my train of thought and almost stop dancing completely. Since I'm, like, so experienced, I manage to continue on with my routine without anyone else noticing.

But who the hell is this other guy? Why isn't he out with the others? Not some Catholic nutter, I hope. He's wearing a blue and red, vertically striped cardigan, blue pants, and scruffy off-white shoes. His little moustache makes him look older than he probably is. His head is still in the same place it was, facing the curtain, even though the curtain's not there any more.

I do a few more turns and end up facing the new guy. I hold my boob up and stretch my tongue down, licking my nipple, but he still won't look. Watch me, you fucker.

'...Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air...'

Shit, the next song's on already. I race to the centre of the room and bend down slowly, following my standard routine. You can do other stuff too, but it's good to have a base you can work from. Since I'm falling behind, I better go back to that now.

Out the corner of my eye I notice the moustache man. He glances quickly at me and then looks away, as if I caught him doing something wrong. Got ya, buddy.

I stretch down even further with my head between my legs. Down this low I can see below the bed. A slight stretch further and I see legs. Lots of legs.

My hands slide up my own legs as I stand up straight. They must be behind the curtain. Err, what the fuck?

'...Tell me how you gonna be without me...'

I look over at Brad who's still enjoying the show. When he grins you can see his bones. I didn't realise before how freaky it is. It's like his skin is see-through. And I can tell how small his body is from when I pressed down over the blanket. Jeez.

I half dance to the curtain and pull it back. They are all old, definitely older than the moustache guy, apart from one girl around my age. She's wearing this purple fleece top, but she has these amazing gold earrings that'd look great on me! She must be the one with the good taste in handbags. The rest have got clothes from the Salvo's or something. None of them move or say anything even though I've caught them out. They just keep looking straight ahead. The old woman is there. She's the only one who looks up at me now. She doesn't get angry or anything, just looks at me with, like, red eyes. Doesn't even look like a bitch any more. Just real sad.

The boys on the bench clap and cheer for me to continue. That's when I realise my body has stopped moving. Their noise fades off and it's like I'm here alone with this old woman who looks more and more like mum. At least, mum when she's sad. I kinda put two and two together and realise that they're not being complete dicks by sitting behind the curtain. It's not even that they wouldn't want to see me strip – moustache guy definitely would. It's just that they're doing it for him, for Brad, before he...well...fuck. This is just fucking weird. How the fuck am I supposed to strip when all these fuckers are just waiting for him to die?

'I...umm...' realise my shoulders are drooping and I can barely move. What do I do now? I turn my head and look over at Dave who is sitting there without speaking. It's the only time I've seen him with nothing to say. The only sound is from the boys on the bench, who are now whistling at me to continue, and from the CD player.

'...Losing you is like living in a world with no air...'

I turn back to Brad and quickly turn away. I can't even look at him now. This is all too fucking much. The old woman still watches me and I can't tell what she's thinking. I'm normally good at that stuff, working out what people are thinking based on how they look, but I just can't do it with her. It's almost like she has no feeling left. It's all gone.

'I...' rush from the room.

The corridor gets blurry as I run towards...where? I don't care, away, away from here, my head is spinning and the colours are changing from blue to purple to orange to red and I open one door and then another and some woman might be screaming at me or it could be some kid who doesn't want to be here or maybe an old man I don't know but it hurts the pain in my ears and the stinging in my eyes as I keep running inside another door and trip and fall onto the hard floor where it's cold really cold but it's like everything else is worse so I don't really care about it and I cover my face but all it does is make my hands wet and I wriggle myself on the floor and cry really cry probably looking like some horrible creature probably looking like that woman from earlier but I don't know why don't know why I'm crying but I'm in the toilet I must be in the toilet again 'coz through the haze I make out those massive mirrors and all I can think about is how I need to find out how much they cost how much for each one and would it be cheaper if you got more than one and how much bigger can you get them and if you got one double the size how much more would that cost?

A little later I'm sitting upright. I don't know how long I've been crying for but I don't have any energy left for more. I feel a bit like the old woman, Brad's mum. Just feel, like, numb and stuff.

I look down at my knee. There's blood everywhere! It's fucking gross. And I realise my phone's on the floor. Must have fallen out when I tripped over. After I pick it up my fingers start dialling one of my contacts.

'Hello?' says the voice on the other end.

'Umm,' I say, 'is it too late for me to come over tonight mum?'