Stripper For a Day

Miss me baby?

"P! You home?" I call through the apartment. The old wooden door emits a loud creek as I shut it behind me. When I flip on the lights I notice Payton's fake leather purse flung on the ground. Payton's not usually scheduled to work right now but the apartment shows no evidence of life, especially of Payton. My typical Friday arrival home consists of opening the door to a hairbrush being launched at my face. Payton's way of signaling me to join Her in her ridiculous dancing and singing along to some 90's song, particularly Wannabe by the Spice Girls or finding noise complaints taped to the door.

"Payton!" I yell louder this time, "Payton are you here?" A soft groan sounds from Payton's room. Immediately I rush there and flip on the light. Payton is curled up in a ball clutching her phone to her chest. "Payton are you okay" I question sitting down warily on the foot of the bed. She doesn't even look at me, her unblinking eyes fixated on the wall beside her. I place my hand on her foot. "Hey P, are you okay?"

She looks to me, silent for a moment then she whispers in a horse voice, "My dad called."

Payton and her father have not spoken in four years. After her mom died Payton's relationship with her father was strained. He became depressed and she acted out. She started talking back to adults, she began using drugs and when she got a tattoo- which her father had always strictly forbidden, and then he kicked her out. He would tell her she was not allowed under his roof if she ever "stained her skin with the disgraceful ink". That caused them to get into a huge fight, apparently they didn't speak for weeks, but when she got suspended from school for cursing out a teacher and leaving class, it was the last straw.

I gasp, "Payton, oh my gosh, are you okay? What did he say, was he mad?"

She returns her gaze to the wall and slowly shakes her head. "He said he wants to talk. face to face. And, and that he's going to come over for the weekend." Her voice meek.

I rub her leg softly trying to comfort her. "Aw P. When's he coming?"

She looks at me now, blinking for the first time. "tomorrow. Noon."

She looks a lot better now but her eyes are still glazed over and the bags beneath them give her somewhat of a zombie effect. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Payton sits up now stretching, "take me to scoops." She slides out of bed and schleps over to the door wearing a gray sweatshirt and black sleep shorts. It's not often you'll find Payton not all dressed up. Not that she always has a full face of makeup and is decked in all her finest jewelry, but she always looks at least presentable, this is one of those rare moments.

Since we don't have a car we walk the busy streets of Las Vegas dodging around the bicyclists and group photos. Finally we make it to Scoops Ice Cream Shop. I pull open the glass door to the familiar rigging of the tiny bell above it. We're greeted by name by the employees there, as you can tell we are frequent customers. After all nothing cheers you up like ice cream, and with the amount of asshole guys We've dated, we need a lot of cheering up.

"Hey Sal." I say clapping him on the shoulder. Sal is probably about 38. He grew up in a small town in Nebraska then moved here to pursue his dream of being a famous magician, he thought night shows would be great, perhaps the next Houdini. He does small side shows, he's yet to hit it big but I'm rooting for him.

"Hey there Sutton. Mint chocolate chip on a sprinkle cone coming right up."

"Ah you know me too well." I reply with a smile. Payton looks happier now than before but she still has a mopey look on her face. "Ray!" I call one of the other employees over. He's such a cutie. 24 years old, grew up just outside of the city, and he's in his last year of college.