Balloons, Fans and Pasties
2.
I walked off the stage wearing nothing but black lace pasties and a matching black g-string. My dark brown hair was curled in a classic nineteen-fifties pin-up style. I pulled off my pasties not caring that I was in a room filled with other performers. I walked over to my dressing table and slipped on a pair of worn jeans and a plain green shirt. I stared in the mirror as I slowly transformed myself from a glamorous burlesque star to an average looking girl who nobody would look at twice. I pulled off my fake lashes and placed them neatly inside the box where I stored them. I pulled a tissue from the tissue box and folded it into a neat looking square before dabbing it with make-up remover and wiping off the ridiculously large amount of make-up from my face. I no longer fit my stage personality of Miss Lynda Love, now I was just plain, ordinary Samantha Jones. After packing away all my make-up into a small bag I slipped on a pair of plain black ballet flats, grabbed my beaten-up black backpack and left.
By the time I had walked the eight blocks to my small apartment it was almost eleven thirty. I immediately threw my backpack on the floor when I first entered my apartment before getting changed into my pyjamas and going to sleep.
My alarm sounded at six thirty and I rushed to get ready and leave my house by seven. The bus stop was only a five minute walk from my apartment. I sat alone at the bus stop waiting for the bus to go to work. I pulled a trashy magazine out of my backpack and started to read about all the latest celebrity gossip. To a by passer on the street I, Samantha Jones, would not look like someone who would read this kind of magazine, but they didn’t know Miss Lynda Love. Miss Lynda Love knew all the latest celebrity gossip; she was glamorous and up to date on the latest trends.
The bus came to a halt and the doors swung open in front of me. A fat, smiling old man was sitting in the driver’s seat. “Good morning Samantha.” My regular bus driver said, smiling happily.
“‘Morning Bob,” I said as I handed him my bus fare. I walked to a seat about half way down the bus and started listening to my mp3. I was trying to come up with a new routine for Miss Lynda Love. After fifteen minutes and two and a half possible songs the bus stopped across the road from the cafe I worked as a waitress as during the day.
“See you tomorrow.” I muttered as I stepped off the bus. The doors closed behind me and the bus drove off. I crossed the road and grabbed two empty cups on my way into work.
“Hey Samantha!” Emily, my overly happy co-worker called.
“Hey Em, I see you’ve already had customers.” I said, placing the cups on the bench by the dishwasher. I walked out to the back room and put my backpack in the cupboard.
“Have you got anything planned for tonight?”Yes, I’m working. “No, why?”
“My friends and I are going see this burlesque show, there is this one girl Miss Lynda Love who is supposed to be really good. Do you want to come with?”
“Nah, I have to clean the house, my mum is coming over tomorrow night.”
“Aww, please come! There is this guy going with us and I know he would be just perfect for you.”
“I’m sorry, I really can’t. Perhaps I can meet him some other time?”
“Okay, but because you rejected me you have to re-stock the drinks fridge.”
“Fine...” She knew I hated re-stocking the drinks fridge. “Bitch.” I muttered.
“I heard that!”
What was I going to do about tonight? Would she recognise me? I couldn’t take my chances, I had to do something about this.
By the time I had walked the eight blocks to my small apartment it was almost eleven thirty. I immediately threw my backpack on the floor when I first entered my apartment before getting changed into my pyjamas and going to sleep.
My alarm sounded at six thirty and I rushed to get ready and leave my house by seven. The bus stop was only a five minute walk from my apartment. I sat alone at the bus stop waiting for the bus to go to work. I pulled a trashy magazine out of my backpack and started to read about all the latest celebrity gossip. To a by passer on the street I, Samantha Jones, would not look like someone who would read this kind of magazine, but they didn’t know Miss Lynda Love. Miss Lynda Love knew all the latest celebrity gossip; she was glamorous and up to date on the latest trends.
The bus came to a halt and the doors swung open in front of me. A fat, smiling old man was sitting in the driver’s seat. “Good morning Samantha.” My regular bus driver said, smiling happily.
“‘Morning Bob,” I said as I handed him my bus fare. I walked to a seat about half way down the bus and started listening to my mp3. I was trying to come up with a new routine for Miss Lynda Love. After fifteen minutes and two and a half possible songs the bus stopped across the road from the cafe I worked as a waitress as during the day.
“See you tomorrow.” I muttered as I stepped off the bus. The doors closed behind me and the bus drove off. I crossed the road and grabbed two empty cups on my way into work.
“Hey Samantha!” Emily, my overly happy co-worker called.
“Hey Em, I see you’ve already had customers.” I said, placing the cups on the bench by the dishwasher. I walked out to the back room and put my backpack in the cupboard.
“Have you got anything planned for tonight?”Yes, I’m working. “No, why?”
“My friends and I are going see this burlesque show, there is this one girl Miss Lynda Love who is supposed to be really good. Do you want to come with?”
“Nah, I have to clean the house, my mum is coming over tomorrow night.”
“Aww, please come! There is this guy going with us and I know he would be just perfect for you.”
“I’m sorry, I really can’t. Perhaps I can meet him some other time?”
“Okay, but because you rejected me you have to re-stock the drinks fridge.”
“Fine...” She knew I hated re-stocking the drinks fridge. “Bitch.” I muttered.
“I heard that!”
What was I going to do about tonight? Would she recognise me? I couldn’t take my chances, I had to do something about this.
♠ ♠ ♠
Chapter two... Tell me what you think, even if you think it's horrible, I'd like to know.