From the Pole to the Palace: A Love Nobody Expected

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Dreka Hendrix

Summer of 2012

Ihummed along in my head to Silk’s song, Let’s Make Love, as I did my solo. Winding my hips to the beat, I looked around Sin City, which was the strip club that I had been dancing at for the past five months. I watched as the men and the women who were sitting down squirmed in their seats because of my highly sexual performance. I know for a fact that ninety percent of the men and women who were watching me had hard dicks and wet pussies.

Since I’ve been dancing here, my confidence level has skyrocketed. Five months ago, I never would have imagined that I would be on a stage by myself doing my own solo, and people would actually be throwing money at me.

When I first started, I just wanted to be on stage with the rest of the ladies because I was too shy. But I had to say fuck all of that shyness and do what I needed to do to get this money, because these bills weren’t going to pay themselves.

I had just taken off my bikini top, so the only thing left was my bottoms, which left really nothing to the imagination because it was only a red thong. I continued to sway my hips to the beat when this fine ass dude walked in along with three other dudes, but my eyes were on him. Something about the way that he walked, his demeanor, and his whole vibe screamed power.

I could tell that he was way out of my league because most dudes that I used to fuck with normally walked around with their pants hanging off their asses and a wife beater. This nigga right here was in Sin City in a damn three-piece navy blue Armani suit. He was a big cocky nigga who looked like he ate the gym for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Only piece of jewelry that he wore was a Cuban around his neck, along with a watch that shined with every step he took.

As he got closer to me, I was able to get a better look at him. This nigga was just too fuckin’ fine for words. His caramel skin was so pure, and I didn’t know who had more waves, his hair or the ocean. Looking at his fine ass was distracting me, and each time I tried to look away, I ended up coming right back.

I almost fell off the stage when he stood his fine ass on the dance floor directly in front of me and folded his arms. At that point, I started performing like someone had offered to give me one million dollars if I put on my best show. I turned my back to him, bent all the way over, and touched my toes. I could hear all types of ooh’s and ahh’s from the crowd, and more money filled the stage.

In the midst of all of these people, I was putting a show on only for him. When I turned back around, he was still standing there with that same cocky look on his face, as if he wasn’t fazed by what the hell I was doing. I placed my back against the pole and seductively sat down on my bottom. To show him how flexible I was, I spread my legs, raised them up, and placed both of them behind my head. At this point, everybody in the room was able to get a clear shot of my pussy, which was poking out through my thong. With all of that, I still didn’t get his attention.

By this time, the song had gone off and I had made so much money for the night, that I ended up having to get a bucket to put it all in. I’m not going to lie, I felt some type of way about dude who was staring a hole through me while I was performing. I was used to niggas and bitches falling at my feet, but things were different with him.

When I made it to the locker room, I set my bucket on the bench behind me and opened my locker. I pulled out the wipes that I had stashed in there and proceeded to wipe myself off. I wouldn’t dare take a shower in one of the showers that they had in the locker room for us because these bitches were fuckin’ nasty. So, like always, I would just use my wipes until I made it home to take a shower.

Caramel, did you see all of them get money niggas in the building tonight? Don’t tell me you about to go home? my friend, Coco said, coming into the locker room and calling me by my stripper name.

Coco was a cool chick, and probably one of the only bitches that I fucked with at Sin City. Mostly because the rest of these bitches were haters, and mad that my name alone could sell this whole club out. Half of these bitches been stripping for years now, and I came right in and became the highest paid stripper.

Yeah, I see them, but I got to go get my baby. She got school in the morning, I said, slipping on my black tights from pink.

When I finished, I placed the matching Pink sports bra on as well. Yeah, I was a stripper, and often times called a hoe, slut, thot, whatever came with the territory, but to my little six-year-old princess, Charisma, I was her everything. And honestly, that’s all that mattered. I was doing what I had to do to keep food in my baby’s mouth, clothes on her back, and a roof over her head, even if I had to get butt naked to do it.

Alright, you working tomorrow? she asked me, as she went over to her locker to freshen up some.

If my grandma don’t bitch about watching Charisma, then yeah, I’m working, I said, pulling my Nike gym bag onto my shoulder. That’s where I kept all of my change of clothes, toiletries, and everything that I needed for my hair.

After talking with Coco for a little while longer, I walked out of the back door, with my bucket and my gym bag in hand. I made it to my 2009 Nissan Altima, placed the items in the car, then got inside. This was normally the time of the night when I started thinking about life. Here I was, 23 years old and I was a high school dropout turned stripper. I hate that this part of the story has to sound like an excuse for the decisions that I chose to make with my life, but my years of high school were some of the toughest years for me. My freshmen year, I was pretty much on point, until my father was murdered.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, so I knew what the hell my dad did for a living to provide for his family. He was a gambler, and he was way past being addicted to it. It got to the point that the luck that he had for so many years had run out, and he ended up owing a lot of people money. I remember him moving around with us from motel to motel because he was hiding from whoever he owed money to. Us hiding only went on for about a month and a half until they finally were able to catch up to my daddy, and they killed him. Fast forward two years after that, my junior year in high school, which is when I lost my mother due to a hit and run.

So, at the age of sixteen, I was parentless and I moved in with my grandmother, who really didn’t give a fuck about what I did. I was sixteen years old, acting like a grown ass woman. No curfew, no nothing, and I took advantage of that. Which is why, two months later, I ended up pregnant by my boyfriend at the time, who’s name was Levi.

I got with Levi when I was sixteen and he was eighteen. When I say got with, I mean had sex with because he and I were never really in a relationship. He was just an older dude who I lusted over and he had a way with words, which caused him to be the first dude that I opened my legs up for. When he found out that I was pregnant, he offered me the money for an abortion and I gladly declined it. At that point, I just had no desire to go to school, so I pretty much dropped out altogether. Wasn’t like I had someone at home with a gun to my head, telling me to take my ass to school anyway.

I went through my whole pregnancy alone, but I did get a little bit of help from my grandmother. Once I had the baby, Levi would pop up every blue moon, shoot me a couple of dollars, and then be on his way. I had gotten tired of having to beg my no good ass baby daddy and my grandmother for money, so I ended up getting me a little job at Walmart.

For six fuckin’ years, I dealt with rude ass customers, stuck up ass managers, and I was just ready to go. I quit my job one Friday afternoon, and as I was walking, I passed by Sin City, and the rest is history. No, I wasn’t proud of my lifestyle, but I had that hustler instinct inside of me like my daddy. I thought that all money was good money, so I didn’t mind taking off my clothes for a quick dollar.

The one comment that I hated was, You’re too pretty to be doing this. I stood about 5’4," and I was about 130 pounds. I kept my body in shape by going to the gym every morning after I dropped Charisma off to school. I got the stripper name Caramel because of my pure, blemish free, caramel skin. My eyes were light brown, and about three months ago, I had dyed my once light brown hair a fiery red color. I kept my hair styled in a versatile sew in, where the inches were 20 and 22, making people believe that all of this was my real hair.

So, yeah, I knew I was beautiful, but a beautiful face wasn’t about to pay any of my bills. My real name was actually Quandreka, but the shit was just too much, so I just told people to call me Dreka. I had no idea what the hell my mama was thinking when she named me.

After driving for another ten minutes, I pulled up to my grandmother’s house in Miami. The neighborhood she lived in was way better than where I stayed. I could have continued to stay with my grandmother rent free, but I started to get this vibe from her, like she didn’t want me there anymore. Which is why last month, I moved into my own apartment. It wasn’t perfect, but I made the best out of it.

After parking my car in her driveway, I used my spare key and opened the door. It was a little after one in the morning, so I knew that my grandmother would be asleep, along with my baby. I quietly walked into the room where my daughter was sleeping and picked her up. Just that quick, I was locking the door back and putting Charisma in her booster seat. One would think that maybe I should have just left my daughter at my grandmother’s but I felt like I was already fuckin up enough, so the least I could do was bring my daughter home and get her ready for school in the morning.

We made it home in no time, and the neighborhood dope boys were standing on the corner as always. The bucket that I had filled with money, I had to pour it all into the duffle and then I got out of the car. I picked Charisma up from her seat and walked with her until I made it to my apartment building.

Damn, Dreka, when you gon’ let a nigga fuck?

Dreka, when you gon’ suck a nigga dick or something, with your fine ass?

That was the type of shit that I had to hear from niggas all day long. It pissed me off because sometimes my daughter would hear that shit. I know, I know, it comes with the territory, but I’ll be damned if the shit didn’t make me mad.

I continued to tune them out as I made it inside my apartment. I closed the door behind me, locked it, and then walked to Charisma’s room and placed her in her bed. I stared at my beautiful daughter for a while, thinking that she was the only good thing to come out of me and Levi’s relationship. Charisma was the spitting image of her father; the only thing that she had of me was my eyes. Since she was only six years old, I kept her long hair in braids or ponytails. After I placed a few more kisses on her forehead, I walked out of her room, closing the door behind me.

I took myself a long hot shower and then pulled the Nike bag onto my bed and counted it. As I counted the money, I smoked me a fat blunt because Lord knows I needed it. Another habit that I picked had up over the years, I loved to get high. After counting for another fifteen minutes or so, I was left with the grand total of $2,600. All of this was from my solo performance. Imagine if I were to do table dances and all of that other stuff that I normally do.

I split the money into groups, breaking it down for rent, car note, after care, utilities, groceries, my studio that I was saving up for, and Charisma’s college fund because I wanted her to be better than me and go out and get an education. I hid the money in my dresser, and then I finished off the blunt. About ten minutes later, I was knocked out.

The next day

I had just picked Charisma up from after care and I was on the way over to my grandmother’s house to drop her off. It was Friday night, which is the busiest night at the club, so I just prayed that my grandmother wasn’t in there bitching about watching my baby. Hell, it wasn’t like I was dropping her off for free because whenever I left Charisma with my grandma, I would always leave her with money, just in case she needed to order some food or something for my baby. On top of that, I was breaking my grandma off with money every week, and she still complained. At the end of the day, she was the only family that I had left, and the only person that I trusted enough to watch her.

It was a shame that I couldn’t go to my own baby daddy to watch his fuckin’ daughter, with his sorry ass. I swear I hated his ass, and he played a major role in why I really wasn’t attracted to men like that anymore. He fucked it up for all men after him. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been with my share of men that I could count on one hand after Levi, but they all were a disappointment, and once they got some pussy out of me, that was it.

For the past few months, I’ve been exploring my options, and I’ve been messing around with females. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I was a full blown lesbian, but I did think that I was bisexual, even if I was more attracted to women than men. Coco and I fucked around all of the time, so she was more than a friend to me, more like a friend with benefits. Coco was actually the first