The Stranger In Me

Meet Melanie ;)

           All around the cobbler's bench
          The monkey chased the weasel
         The monkey thought 'twas all in   
         fun
        POP! goes the weasel

Melanie

       "You're sure you really wanna be a dj here?" Mr butt the club manager asks for the hundredth time. "Cause you could make much more money for the club as a stripper" he says  eyeing my cleavage.

    Coming here to look for a job doesn't mean I came here dressed scantily. In fact, I'm dressed quite professionally despite the job I am applying for. The problem here is the shirt I'm putting on...

Its...a bit undersized.

Who am I kidding, its the most unfitting shirt I have ever put on and the lazy buttons ain't cooperating.

I lost two shirt buttons already  because my boobs were fighting for breathing space and like you've guessed they won and now my  cleavage is exposed. This happened immediately I stepped into this club.

What can I say, they have minds of their own.

"I am absolutely sure. I really love music and I am skilled in putting music and various beats together in perfect harmony" I say clasping my hands together trying to look convincing but my shirt...well let's see if it'll help. "My beats are so good that it'll get your strippers stripping with crazy skills and men flooding your stage with money of various currencies...its going to get everyone hearing it dancing so much then they'll get thirsty and they'll buy all your alcoholic drinks in no time and they'll be high and..."

"I understand what you are saying" Mr-i-can't-take-my-eyes-off-your-boobs waves his hand dismissively interrupting me.

I really wanted to know what will happen when they get high

Yeah, me too but I'm glad he stopped me from saying what I could've said...

"So am I getting the job?" I ask desperately.

"Actually, we need a male to do the job" he says absentmindedly.

"So am I expected to change my gender or something?" I ask feigning ignorance

"What?" He asks finally looking up "no, no that's not what I mean... I mean, women work in clubs as strippers, bartenders, cleaners and other things but not as DJs" the chauvinistic fool explains.

I'm done trying to convince with words, its time for action.

I fold my hands under my boobs revealing it more then I let my elbows rest on the table and I lean forward giving him a clearer view.

An animal like sound erupts from his throat and I'm certain I've gotten something twisted.

"Are you really sure you don't really want to keep me around? I mean, if I can't get a job here especially the job of a dj then I think I'll just leave". I say attempting to pick my bag

"Err... Miss Martinez..."

Oh he remembers my name. Thought he wasn't listening since he was so attentive to my bust. But what did he say his name was again?

I think he said something like Buttercup

Right?

But there's no way a club manager will be hearing "buttercup" as a name or even a nickname.

Well I've settled on calling him Mr Butt till he says his name again.

"Yes sir?" I say with a sweet voice. That moment when you know you are going to have your way like other times...well that's if you are like me.