You've Given Me a Million Reasons

I'd been booked into a hotel with a strip club in Hamilton, Ontario for a whole month at the end of December 1976. Hamilton was my boyfriend, Jake's hometown and he still lived there with his wife- who I pretended did not exist.

My first week working there had been traumatic and a bit on the crazy side. The featured stripper that week was performing with two big boa constrictors, that had been given free run of the hotel hallways to get their exercise. Nudity in Ontario had just become a 'thing' and most of us strippers were getting used to it, reluctantly, plus, the entire city had been shut down due to a snowstorm for a day and a half.

If that wasn't bad enough, because my boyfriend was a local he hadn't been able to spend any time at all with me and I was feeling forgotten and angry. It seemed as though when I needed him the most he was nowhere to be found, and I was growing tired of always being last on his list.

By Thursday morning the sun was shining, and the plows were out, working furiously at clearing the snow off the streets. Around noon a plow was pushing snow around in the parking lot behind the hotel, clearing lanes and parking spaces for customers. Then, at two o’clock, Henri, the day manager, came upstairs to inform us the shows would begin at eight o’clock that evening, following our regular rotation, and asked if we needed groceries or necessities and he would send someone out for us.

Some of the girls gave him a list of items. I planned on going to the variety store across the street to replenish my dwindling supply of cigarettes.

To celebrate our freedom from ice-bound captivity, all of us dancers, except for Elise and John, the snake people, trekked to our Chinese restaurant for an early dinner before the eight o’clock show. The snowplows had pushed all the snow up onto the sidewalks, so we had to share the road with the occasional brave soul driving on the still-slushy roads. It was frigid cold, and we were thankful to walk into that warm, steamy dining room.

Our freedom was short-lived, as we had to get back to the hotel and start preparing for the evening shows. I had to run to the bathroom when I finally got back to the hotel and once again lost a fine meal into the toilet. My stomach had been bothering me for a few weeks at that point and I believed all this worry over my boyfriend had caused an ulcer.

The fire show was going to be my eight o’clock show. I was ready, finally. I'd been putting it off because of an early accident performing with the fire wands at another club. Now I had it figured out and I wasn't going to delay performing it any longer.

This stage was perfect for it- no way for the audience to get too close and plenty of room for twirling across the stage with the fire wands I'd made. I took one of the hand towels the hotel had provided and soaked it well before going down for the show. I decided to mix the ingredients for my fire soup on the stage while the introduction was playing, instead of slopping it downstairs in a coffee mug.

Costume? Check. Tape? Check. Fire wands? Check. Alcohol? Check. Lighter fluid? Lighter? Check. Towel and cup? Check and check.

I had my shiny red jumpsuit with the breakaway zippers, that Mr. Lee had fixed for me, and the black chiffon cape with my silver tap shoes. When I got downstairs to the club there was a decent-sized crowd for post-apocalyptic snowstorm weather. It surprised me to see about forty customers.

I handed the cassette tape to the sound and light man and asked him to please lower the spotlight intensity for the last song because I was doing a fire show. My evil plan was to use the fire wands to steer the audience’s attention away from my missing G-String. I didn’t need the spotlight zeroing in on what I was trying to hide.

I mixed up the fire soup and dunked my wands in the goo, as the introduction was playing. Then I pulled a chair up onto the stage.

I opened the show to Venus by Shocking Blue. The next song was Fire by the Ohio Players and I peeled off my jumpsuit to that song, leaving on my bralette and panties. I stripped off the panties, leaving my G-String and bralette on as I spun with the black cape to Light my Fire by The Doors. I slipped out of the bralette under the cape in the middle of Light my Fire. Then, ditched the cape on the back of the chair and lit the fire wands when Fever by Peggy Lee began.

The spotlight dimmed and I removed the G-String slowly, unhooking each side as I transferred both wands to one hand. Now I was free to spin my way around the stage without the spotlight shining on my private parts and did almost the entire song in the nude without actually showing anything.

Yes. Success. Except I’d forgotten my black robe to wear off the stage and wrapped up in my cape instead. I walked through the fire door to the stairwell and was surprised when someone put their all-too-familiar hands over my eyes.

“Oh, oh. You don’t know how much I needed you tonight.” I said, as I twirled around and wrapped Jake in my cape.

He laughed and said, “What if it wasn’t me?”

“You don’t think I recognize those hands? I’ve got them memorized.”

“Here, let’s get you out of this cold stairway before you freeze.” He said as he took my equipment and led me upstairs.

“How did you get to the stairway without one of the waiters throwing you out?” I asked.

“I talked with the little guy and told him I was your boyfriend.” He told me.

“Oh, Charley is so nice. I told him I was hoping to see you here this week.” I said, “You won’t believe everything that’s happened here. It’s been crazy.”

“That’s sort of a theme in these places. Isn’t it?” He asked.

I laughed and agreed. “Now that you mention it.”

The hallway was empty when we got upstairs, and I took him to my room, the tears starting as soon as I shut the door. My emotions had been on a roller coaster for the past several weeks, and they finally boiled over, out of my control.

“What’s going on, Tina?” He said, pulling me onto the bed with him.

I sank my head into his chest, tears staining his shirt, "Please, just stay with me tonight. Just one night. It's been a terrible week and I needed you.”

“I can’t stay tonight. I want to- believe me. I want to. It’s not possible though. Bree’s family is having their annual Christmas party and…”

Sitting up abruptly, I interrupted him, “you’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t go,” I finished for him. “Fine, Jake. You do that.” I said to him, ice-forming on my words. "You aren't giving me many reasons to keep hanging on."

“Jesus, Tina. What is going on with you? Last week you said you’d put up with anything to be with me, and now you’re pissed off because I’m doing something I already told you I had to do.”

“I don't want you to keep your wife waiting. You'd better leave.” I told him firmly.

“Don’t do this. Come on, Tina. I don't know what you want me to do.” He pleaded.

I refused to look at him and just started getting my costume on for the next show, ignoring him. I turned around as if just noticing him there, and said wryly, “Oh, you’re still here? You’d better hurry. You don’t want to disappoint Bree. We can’t have that. I'm the only one you're allowed to disappoint.”

He stomped angrily downstairs and out the hotel entrance for his damned, stupid, Christmas party, and I stormed around my room getting ready for the Cabaret show.

After I got downstairs, I handed the tape to the sound man and was determined to put a smile on my face for the next twenty minutes. Fuck Jake. Fuck all men. I hated them all. They wanted what they wanted when they wanted it. All they ever did was take from me. I was so damned tired of being lied to and cheated on. Ever time I turned around Jake was giving me another reason to walk away.

The music from Cabaret blared out of the speakers and I spun and kicked my way through it. The chair routine to Mein Herr went over very well and I hadn’t even taken anything but the top coat off. During the song Don’t Tell Mama I slowly unsnapped the silky black shorts and let them drop to the floor, then peeled the halter top off by the end of the song. By the time I had removed my G-String under the black chiffon cape and spun across the stage in my stockings and heels to Maybe This Time the crowd was clapping and whistling.

I think that meant they liked it. Good to know. Men liked stockings and heels. Speaking of men, Charley came over to me and handed me a piece of paper. I said, “What’s this? Fan mail from a flounder?”

He laughed and said, “Your man gave me that for you. I’m glad he made it this week. It’s been a tough one, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I agreed shortly.

Charley patted me on the back, and I went upstairs to read the note. ‘Hey, doll, I promise I’ll be back tonight. Charley gave me a key to the hotel door. I love you- Jake’

I grabbed the bathroom first before everyone else came back up from their shows, so I’d be showered by the time Jake got back. I listened to the fire door as everyone returned after their shows, hoping each time it would be Jake. By the time the club closed downstairs, I decided to get some sleep until he got there.

Every time I heard a noise in the hallway, I jumped up to see if it was Jake. Each time I was disappointed. I went to the kitchen for a cup of tea and sat in the lounge area to wait for him. I needed to buy myself a clock. It was so frustrating to not know what time it was in this old, bare-boned hotel.

I don’t know what time I finally gave up and went to bed, but it was starting to get light outside. I was too tired to cry. When I woke up and he still hadn’t arrived, I suddenly was pissed. Not sad anymore. Just furious. His promises weren’t even as good as the napkin he wrote them on. I got dressed and visited the bathroom for one last good vomit before leaving the hotel. I had at least two hours to kill and I wasn’t about to be found by Jake sitting in my room alone waiting for him to show up.

When I am determined I can speed walk anywhere. I had heard scuttlebutt there was an A&W restaurant about five blocks from the hotel. I was in desperate need of an ice-cold root beer float to help settle my stomach and let me think through what kind of a mess I’d gotten myself into once again. The cold walk in the icy air helped to clear the sludge from my mind. Between the blizzard keeping me trapped inside and the snakes, I was more than a little confused. I teeter-tottered between hating Jake and wishing I’d never see him again to moping around tearfully because he wasn’t there with me.

I ordered a root beer float and a burger for breakfast then took a pen from my purse and a few napkins from the dispenser on my table. On my fancy note paper, I wrote down how I felt when Jake was gone, how much he was gone and did the time together make up for the emotional toll of time apart.

I did not take into consideration his promise of traveling with me over the winter, as that was merely a promise. Just like his promise to come back and spend the night with me. Promises no longer counted in this relationship.

I ruthlessly recorded the feelings of worthlessness and jealousy that overtook me when Jake was home with his wife. How much I wished I was dead, so I wouldn’t have to feel all that pain. Then I wrote down the times I could remember him being home while I was alone and crying over him.

Sipping my root beer, I digested that information as impartially as possible. It seemed as though he spent much more time at home than I had realized before. It was always sort of a blur to me that was forgotten as soon as we were reunited.

He kept reminding me that his marriage was not my problem and that he was “working on” us being together. His marriage was definitely my problem. It caused all of the problems I was having currently. Not only was it my problem because of the pain it caused, but it was also my problem because I hadn’t been led blindly into this relationship. I knew just what I was getting into.

Plus, just exactly did he mean when he told me he was ‘working on it’? As in getting a legal separation? As in filing for divorce? Or was he simply working on a way to sneak away from his wife more easily?

If I was completely honest with myself, I would have also written down that I wanted Jake to marry me. I didn’t want to settle for being the woman he had to sneak off to see every now and then. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted a real future with him. I wanted it all.

However, writing that down on paper was impossible. It was laughable. It was never going to happen, and I would not be humiliated by admitting that even to myself.

While reading over the pain and jealousy I felt when he was at home, I came to the realization that most of my days were unhappy because of him. If being in love was supposed to make one feel joy, this relationship fell short.

Finishing the now cold burger, I wadded up the evidence of my soul searching and tossed everything into the trash. No conclusions had been made. But I had a clearer picture of what I was dealing with. The real test would come the next time Jake showed up. Would I stand up for myself and demand answers about our future- or would I fold up like a cheap tent and pretend I was fine with being an a la carte menu item that could be ordered whenever Jake was in the mood?

I speed walked back to the hotel and when I got upstairs Lori accosted me in the hallway, “Jake was here looking for you. I think he was mad that you were gone.”

“Jeez, I got a root beer float and a burger and I’m pretty sure I didn’t fuck anyone at the A&W while I was there,” I replied sarcastically.

“Hey,” She defended herself, “don’t shoot the messenger.”

“” I laughed, “sorry. A lot on my mind today.”

Getting ready for my first show of the day I wondered if Jake had gone home angry with me and was now having revenge sex with his wife. Or was he downstairs in the club waiting to pounce on me for not being available when he wanted me? For the first time since we met, I did not want to see him.

The cold A&W burger was not agreeing with me, and I had to run to the bathroom to get rid of it in the toilet. That was pretty nasty. I rinsed out my mouth and fetched my toothpaste to give my mouth a good scrubbing.

I was still feeling a little shaky as I handed the tape for Singing in the Rain to the sound man. He told me they had a new kind of lighting set up with special effects and he was anxious to try it out.

I asked him, “Do you have something like rain?”

“Let me check”, he replied as he turned knobs and ran through the program. “Yeah, there are raindrops and lightning.”

“Cool. How about raindrops? We can skip the lightning.” I told him.

That was amazing. When my music began there were lights tumbling over me that actually looked like rain. It made me feel like I could splash in puddles. The audience loved the effect. He used it for the first song and for MacArthur Park, when I did my now totally nude floor routine, which made that a lot easier, as the raindrops sort of shielded my private parts from unobstructed viewing. No spotlight. Win-win.

On my way to the stairs to go up to my room, Henri, the afternoon manager stopped me. ‘Uh oh, I thought. Am I in trouble for something? I did the entire floor routine nude- there was no way he could complain.’

“Excuse me, Tina?” Henri said. “We got a call from your agent. She needs to send you to Quebec City for two weeks. We’ll type out a new contract for you here and you can take it to the immigration office in town this afternoon.”

“Oh. Is everything all right with me here?” I asked, confused by the sudden change.

“Yes, yes. No worries from us. We are happy to have you back when we can get you.” He assured me. “There’s a club up North that’s having a grand opening and Misty wants you there.”

Still a little bit confused, I thanked him and went upstairs to get changed for a trip to the immigration office uptown. I gathered my working papers and contracts and ID then hustled back downstairs where Henri had my new contract waiting. He had called a taxi for me, and I waited outside, wondering if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

During the trip, I realized Jake had not been present at the club for the last show. He must have gotten mad and gone home. Well, if I went out of town without being able to let him know, that was on him. It might do him good to have to wonder where I was and what I was doing for a change. I was far too predictable for my own good.

It took longer than expected at Immigrations and I didn’t return in time for my two o’clock show. Henri assured me that was not a problem and told me to just get ready for my four o‘clock on time.

I pulled out my old blues tape for the four o’clock show and dressed in my black sequined gown. As I passed the tape to the sound man he asked if I wanted any special effects for that tape. I thought it over and asked if he had flames for my floor routine to Fever. He did. The little machine had red and yellow flame-like lights that would flash around me during my floor routine. Again- no spotlight.

I looked around the club again for Jake and he was still not there. I tried hanging onto my resolve not to depend on Jake for my happiness. That was turning me into a miserable mess.

After my eight o’clock show a tall, good-looking blond gentleman asked me to join him at his table after I got changed. Not seeing Jake in the club, I agreed- mostly out of spite.

I changed into the Cabaret outfit and wore my black silk robe over it to sit with the customer. He stood up when I got to the table and pulled the chair out for me. Wow. I half expected him to pull it out from under me. But no. Hmm. Wow.

“Hi, I’m Dan, Jake probably told you I’d be here this week.”

Ah, Jake’s spy. The fellow whose phone number was tucked away in my purse in case I needed Jake in an emergency.

“Oh, Hi. Nice to meet you.” I said awkwardly.

“Uh, Jake wanted me to tell you what happened last night and why couldn’t make it until today.”

“Okay…” I asked, suspecting another lie.

“Yeah, he wanted to get back to be with you. But, his old lady, er, his wife was giving him the third degree. He thinks she knows something’s going on and she’s watching him like a hawk.”

“I, I don’t know what to say.” I stuttered, “um. We’ve been together since July. Why all of a sudden would she be suspicious?”

“I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve been telling Jake he needs to shit or get off the pot, you know. He hasn’t been happy with Bree for a long time. All they do is fight.”

“I’m sorry he’s not happy. He’s the only one who can change that though. I’m sure his wife is not very happy, and I’ll tell you right now I’m sure as hell not very happy.” I lamented. “I love him. I really do. But I don’t know how much more I can take. He breaks my heart every day and the worst part is I let him.”

“Jesus. I’m really sorry. We’ve been friends forever. But sometimes he does things that I don’t get.” Dan explained.

“Well. Thanks for letting me know. I appreciate it.” I told him, as I gathered my tape and went to the sound booth for my ten o’clock show.

The sound guy asked me if I wanted anything special. I asked if he had special effects for tears. Nope. Damn.

After the cape twirling to Maybe This Time, I climbed off the stage and walked back to the stairway. Dan was getting up to leave at that point and he stopped me to say,

“Jakes’s a fucking idiot, pardon my French. You deserve better.” And then he left.