Page 34 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

My sense of peace lasts the four minute walk to her office where I restart my panic as soon as I sit across from her.

“So, Dahlia, I have to say I’ve been quite impressed with your work so far this semester. You show great potential, it doesn’t surprise me this is the direction your thesis has taken. How is the drafting process?” I’m trying to remain neutral from herpraise, but it feels so nice to be seen as worthy. Jot that down to psychoanalyze later.

“That’s so kind of you to say. I was able to work on the draft with my friend. He lives on the farm we’d be using for the program. We’ve got a rough draft, but I wanted to get your feedback before I finalize everything and submit it.”

She looks over the document, surprised. “For a first draft, this is exceptional. I can see the care you’ve put into your research.”

“What do you recommend as far as edits or any improvements?” I can’t wait to tell Wes about this.

“If you are comfortable with it, I can take the week to edit and enhance any spots needing extra support. I don’t anticipate I’ll need to change anything major, it’s really well done. Would that be okay with you? I would love to support you in finalizing this to submit. I think this kind of program could make a huge difference in many lives.” I’m ready to melt to the floor in a puddle of emotions.

“If you’re sure? I would be so grateful. This would be a massive help and we’ll take any guidance you have, this is so important to me too. Take all the time you need, Professor. I’ll let my friend,Wes, know. He’ll be so happy.”

“I’m glad to help. I’ll email you as needed while I’m looking this over properly, but please reach out to me too. Let’s plan to meet back here in a week to get the final draft complete and submitted.” I agree and with my head in the clouds, I glide out of her office on a high taking me through the rest of the day.

At the apartment,I’m changing before my show tonight, music blasting as I try to hype myself up. Tonight ishospitality night, so Cunting Season will pull a good crowd. Daphne is nowhere to be found, so she must be at work already. Fernando meows loudly at me, but the magnet we have on the fridge shows he was one-hundred-percent fed before Daphne left.

“Fernando,” I sing-song. “Mommy already fed you.” His little green eyes resemble a pouting Puss in Boots, so of course I cave and knock some catnip treats towards him.

Grabbing my bag, I text Wes a meme of a frog wearing a cowboy hat and let him know I’ll call him when I get home tonight. I want to see his face when I tell him the good news. I also want to see his face because it’s a hot face, but we’ll pretend it’s for the good news only. Deny, deny, deny. I love having hot, hunky friends and I most certainly don’t want to suffocate my hot, hunky friend with my tits.

“There she is,my missing friend! I was about to alert the media.” I lean across the bar where Daphne is working. Before I know it, I’m being pelted with cherries and I open my mouth wide to catch one.

“I’m not missing, I’ve been busy. What, is Mister Cowboy not keeping you occupied?” she snarks.

“I’m ignoring that comment. How’s the shift been so far? I go on in like an hour.”

“It’s been steady, though the servers from the sushi place down the street came in for a goodbye party and they’re turning up. It truly might be a goodbye party if that guy doesn’t stop barking ‘pretty girl’ at me when he needs something. He sounds like a fucking parrot.”

That’s the spicy best friend I know and love. I beg her to slip me a Shirley Temple and head back to the dressing rooms to finish getting ready.

“Love you, Damsel,” Daphne yells at me as I walk away.

I turn and throw her a bunch of kisses back and yell, “Love you too, Daph.”

My set iselectric tonight and my body vibrates with the pure joy of a good show. I made good tips tonight too, so I will be treating myself to an iced matcha tomorrow.

Leaving the dressing room, I watch as the crowd empties out, leaving the carcasses of mini bottles and lipstick behind. Thankfully, Daphne is finishing up her closing tasks by the time I don my post-show sweats and I wait at the bar top for her to check out. The other bartender tonight, Simone, is lingering near Daphne, fingers knotted in front of her.

“I loved working with you tonight, I had a lot of fun. I don’t want to be too forward, but would you want to go out sometime? You’re really pretty and I would love to get to know you more.”

I try to silently shrink down the bar top away from them for privacy, but I am also very nosey. She hasn’t brought anyone home in forever and Simone is absolutely her type—tall, blonde, and huge tits.

During our early years in New York, Daph and I for sure did our part to support the slutty bisexual narrative, kissing our way through sexy representatives of each of the Burroughs. Though lately, it seems we’ve both slowed down. Daphne says she’s sworn off dating after one of her ex-boyfriends started fucking her ex-girlfriend and sent her a fruit bouquet to thank her for breaking up with them both.

Daphne throws the towel over her shoulder, turning to Simone. “I’m flattered. I’m not really looking to see anyone right now. If that changes, I’ll definitely hit you up, beautiful.”

I roll my eyes, even when rejecting someone, she’s still flirty. Simone is blushing nervously at this point, and I mentally give her props for braving Daphne. She waves goodbye before she spots me and gives me a surprised smile before she heads out.

“Lady killer strikes again. I’m surprised.” I lean over the bar top.

She scoffs. “Lady killer, my ass. I’m simply not interested right now. My vibrator and nipple clamps are serving me well enough for now. You did good tonight. How’d your meeting go?”

“So good. I’m tired as fuck. We need a movie night soon. I’m having Daphne withdrawals.”

“Soon,” she promises.

TWENTY-SEVEN