Matt was desperate for cash so the strip club was the last place he needed to be at if he wanted to save as much money as he could. But he couldn’t help but notice the ‘wanted’ sign for a job as a drag queen stripper. The strip club was having a one-day special drag queen night to attract some of the gay members of the community to the club. The manager came up with the idea to make more profit for the place. Matt was not gay and was not at all interested in women’s clothing but desperate times call for desperate measures. “It will only be for one day I guess, and nobody should even recognize me under all the makeup. And it’s not like any of the guys will touch me, after all, I could do with the money.” Matt thought to himself as he made his way to the manager’s office to apply
“Perfect!” She smiled as she shook Matt’s hand. “We will see you tomorrow morning in the dressing room.” And so when the dreaded morning came, they waxed all his body and facial hair off. They plucked his eyelashes and caked his face up in over the top makeup. They threw him a pair of stripper heels to trap onto his feet and a slutty outfit that he would soon be throwing off in front of all the guys on stage.
“I hate this wig, the hair is so annoying and distracting! How can girls have such long hair?”
“Now now calm down. It’s just for this night. Now go on up girl! You’re on!”
That night Matt found himself quite enjoying dancing on a pole as all the guys cheered and whistled while throwing cash at him. Cash that he needed. In fact Matt got carried away with it and really put on a show for everyone to see. He made so much money that night that the manager was shocked.
“If only I could make money like that everyday,” she thought to herself. And so she hatched a brilliant plan. Matt got so drunk after the performance that he passed out on the dressing room floor and spent the night there. Vulnerable for the manager to do as she pleased. The next morning Matt woke up with a hangover.
“Urgh, where am I? Oh shit I’m at the strip club! I need to get changed out of these clothes and go home with my money!” But as he stood up, something felt different He stood up to see himself in the mirror and noticed he was still wearing the makeup. He grabbed his wig to pull off but it didn’t seem to budge “That’s strange.” He then gave it another tug with both hands but it only seemed to hurt his scalp. “What the fuck? It’s not coming off” That’s when he realised it was no longer a wig. It was his real hair. “Shit What about these breast forms? Are they… and why can’t I feel anything in between my legs? Shit!” Matt had become the newest stripper at the club. The only thing the manager said to him was “desperate times call for desperate measures, now get on stage Mesha, your up.”