Over a Barrel in Niagara Falls

My latest boyfriend, Gino, dropped me off in the afternoon at my new strip club gig in Niagara Falls. He wanted to stay the night but he had an overnight shift at the glass factory he couldn't turn down. After helping me take my bags to the creepy, little apartment upstairs over the club, he took off, leaving me to fend for myself.

By that time I was used to Gino disappearing for night shifts, day shifts, and double shifts. The man worked all the time, it seemed. I was just happy to have someone who cared about me and didn't lie, after my last two ex-boyfriends.

Gino was big, good-natured, and a little bit goofy. We always had a good time together. He didn't have to worry about being seen with another woman, so we were free to roam around Southern Ontario together, enjoying fantastic restaurants and little pubs, whenever the two of us could snag time off from work. My heart had been slowly mending after my last nightmare boyfriend.

Sunday was my traveling day and the day I washed and repaired my costumes to get ready for my strip shows in the coming week. I hung my freshly scrubbed costumes to dry in a big, open closet, and read my latest favorite book by Pearl Buck until I fell asleep.

When we first arrived at the apartment it alarmed us that there was no lock on the upstairs apartment that had been provided for the dancers. Neither of us was comfortable with that. So, Gino unscrewed the ceiling light at the top of the stairs and I deposited obstacles on the steps to make it difficult for someone to quietly climb them. I also tilted a wooden chair under the door knob for extra protection.

I hated being alone at night. I hated the dark, and I especially hated creepy places. That evening checked all three of my worst nightmares.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I became vaguely aware of something falling near the apartment. I thought nothing of it and fell back asleep, only to be woken up by someone landing on the bed next to me. It was the greasy, little club owner, drunk out of his mind, trying to grapple with me.

Panicking, I didn't know where to run and did the absolute worst thing in a situation like that. I ended up trapping myself in the bathroom, scared that he was going to kick the door in. I wasn’t familiar enough with the apartment to have realized the exit door was closer than the bathroom door and I could have easily escaped him in his drunken state.

At least the protection of the flimsy bathroom door gave me time to assess the situation. I looked around to see if there was anything I could use to protect myself when I spied a can of comet cleanser on the floor under the sink.

I knocked the can on the side of the sink to make sure the powder was not all clumped up and stuck together. When he finally did kick the door in, I shook the contents of the can right into his eyes and flew, literally, down the stairs. The bricks I'd placed on the stairs didn't hinder my escape in the least, as I was flying, using the handrails to launch from every three or four steps.

Not familiar with the property I was on or the proximity of other residences nearby, I began running down the highway just as fast as possible in my shorts, t-shirt, and bare feet. It must have been cold. It was February and there was snow on the ground. I was too frightened to notice and just kept pounding my feet down the pavement to get away.

Behind me, there was a sound of a car revving, and I needed to find a hiding place soon before he pulled out of the club parking lot and saw which direction I was headed. A couple of hundred feet down the road there was a small trailer park. I swerved into the property and hid behind a trailer, watching the owner speeding down the highway past me. I didn’t know who lived in that trailer- but whoever it was had to be a safer bet than being found by that maniac. I beat on the front door repeatedly until a groggy-eyed young guy opened the door.

“Please, let me in, he’s trying to find me!”

“What? Who? Who’s trying to find you?”

“The owner of the strip club is trying to get me- please, just let me inside before he drives past and sees me.”

He unlatched the door and let me in just in time. The club owner zoomed past the trailer I was hiding in and skidded around for a while in the park, looking for me.

“Should I call the cops?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Here, sit and catch your breath.”

The guy brought me a blanket and got me settled on the sofa while I tried to figure out what to do. I had brought nothing out with me, so I didn't have Gino's work phone. I thought maybe I could call his house and get his mother. She and I hadn't met yet, but I was certain she could get a message to him.

“Can you call information and get a number for me?”

“Sure- what’s the name?”

“It’s Gino Baldacci in Hamilton.”

"Can you call for me? I haven't met his mother yet and don't know what she'd think of me calling in the middle of the night. Just ask her for Gino's work number if you would." I asked.

"Sure, no problem."

He got the number and dialed. I could only hear his end of the conversation, "Hi, there, um I'm calling for Gino.

" Uh, huh, Okay. Bill, um, from work.

"Yeah, that would be great.

"Hey, Gino, it's Bill, you know, from work in Niagara Falls

"Yeah, there was a problem in Niagara Falls tonight and I'm gonna need you to come down and help sort it out.

"Um huh. Everything's okay now. Just get here as quickly as you can.

"You bet. No problem.

"Frontier Highway trailer park, the first one after the entrance. Blue and white. Number 10.”

After he hung up he gave me an odd look and asked me,

“So, what the hell happened over there?”

“I was sleeping, and the owner just jumped into the bed next to me. There’s an apartment upstairs where the dancers stay, and I was worried because there was no lock on it. I put a couple of bricks on the stairs and turned off the light at the top. It didn’t stop him.”

“How’d you get away?”

“I locked myself in the bathroom and waited for him to kick the door in and threw comet cleanser in his face.”

“Sheesh. Pretty scary, eh?”

“Yeah. Thank you so much for helping me. I didn’t know what else to do. I was afraid he was going to run me over.”

“I’m glad you came to me for help.”

“What’s your name?”

“Bill. Yours?”

“Tina D’Angelo.”

“Do you want a cup of tea or something? It’ll be a while until your friend gets here from Hamilton.”

“No. I’m shaking too hard to hold it. Thanks.”

Bill sat up watching the highway out the front windows to see if the owner was still circling. A car finally turned down the driveway. It was a small red coupe and wasn’t familiar looking. When it parked outside Bill’s trailer, two doors opened up. Gino got out of the driver’s seat and a woman with blond hair got out of the passenger side.

“Oh, my God. Who’s that with him? I can’t go out there- that sure isn't his old Italian mother. Can I stay here until the morning, I’ll call the police and get things straightened out.”

“I’m so sorry. It looks like your boyfriend is married and he brought his wife.”

“God. Why tonight? Why tonight?”

Hadn't I just walked away from another married jerk? Was I that stupid to get stuck again with another cheater? 'Sorry, I'd like to stay the night, but work, eh?'

'I have to work a double tomorrow so I won't see you until the weekend, eh?'

As much as I hated my last ex, at least I knew where I stood with him.

I could hear some squabbling from outside. “Just stay in the car, Dianne. This is a friend of mine and I’ll take care of it.”

“What’s going on, Gino?”

“Jesus. It’s not your problem, OK?”

Bill went out to meet Gino halfway to the house and thanked him for coming right down.

“Yeah, you want to help me check the gas connection, dude? I thought there might be a gas leak and you know how to fix this stuff. It’s around the other side.”

Dianne got back into the car and Gino walked around to the other side of the trailer with my new buddy. Bill wanted to tell Gino what was going on without his wife listening in.

I heard them shuffling in the gravel back to the car. Bill patted Gino on the back and stuck his head into the car to thank Dianne for coming out in the middle of the night to help him with his emergency.

“Hey, thanks again, dude. I didn’t know if I was going to freeze to death tonight or get blown to hell in my sleep.”

The little red car backed around and drove to the highway, leaving me with a total stranger and in limbo with new revelations about my latest failure of a relationship. Not to mention my whole life was still sitting in that apartment and I had no way to get to any of it.

Bill had to get up for work at five in the morning, but he told me to rest up as long as I wanted and call the police from his place. All he wanted me to do was to make sure the doors were shut completely when I left.

I thanked him profusely and went back to sleep, after locking the doors again.

According to Bill’s stove clock, it was a little after eight when someone pounded on the door. Scared it was the club owner and that he had finally found me I sat frozen, unable to even peek out the window or say a word.

“Tina! Tina! Open up.”

Thank God. I raced to the door and let Gino in. Instead of asking me how I was or what happened, he wanted to know why I had called him at home.

“You have no idea what kind of a hornet's nest you just stirred up.”

I was stunned. He'd been lying to me for three months about being married and making excuses to beat the band, but I did something wrong when I had something terrible happen to me.

He was more upset about his wife being disturbed than what had happened to me. It was eye-opening and had I not absolutely needed him at that moment I would have kicked him in the balls and told him to get the hell out.

“What happened?” He asked me crossly.

“The owner jumped into bed with me in the middle of the night and I didn’t know where to run to. I ended up trapped in the bathroom and when he kicked the door in, I sprayed him in the face with comet and ran out the door. He tried to drive after me and I ran here. This guy opened his door and let me in just before the owner drove past the trailer.”

“Son of a bitch. That creepy little bastard. Can we use this dude’s phone to call the police?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

We called the police from Bill's house and shut the doors behind us, climbing into Gino's truck to wait for the police in front of Bill’s trailer. Gino gave me his jacket to put on and turned the heater on high for me. When the police car pulled in behind us, he got out and explained the situation. The officer came to the passenger side and interviewed me.

We followed him back to the club and the officer went in to find the owner, who hadn’t come in yet. His wife was cleaning the club when the officer got there and didn’t know anything about what had gone on the night before. She did, however, let the officer and Gino go up to the apartment to collect my belongings.

While they were in the apartment, I noticed a girl packing things into the trunk of a white car in the parking lot. She must have been one of the other dancers. Was she arriving or leaving? I couldn’t tell. It looked like she was packing costumes in her trunk. Maybe the owner had bothered her, and she was also leaving.

Gino and the officer returned to the parking lot with my suitcases and purse. Gino looked angry and was shaking his head as if he was in disbelief.

“Half your costumes are gone. Why would that douchebag keep your costumes?”

“My jacket. Did you find my jacket?”

“The little fur one?”

“Yeah.”

“No, it wasn’t there either.”

Oh, my God. That was where I kept all the money I was saving. All that work. Damn it. Why do I even try anymore? Everything I do goes to shit. I might as well be putting my paycheck up my nose, like everyone else.

I was too furious to even cry. That was it. Every time I turned around someone was stealing from me, cheating me, abusing me, or using me. It was over. An ugly chill seeped into my bones right then and there in that parking lot and I changed. I can remember the feeling like it was yesterday. People were going to start paying for what they did to me.

I got out of the truck and walked over to the white car, where the other dancer was fishing around in her back seat.

“Open your fucking trunk, bitch, or I’ll rip your wig off right here in the parking lot.”

“Who are you talking to? I know you ain’t talking that shit to me.”

“Yes, I am. Open the trunk now.”

The police officer and Gino came running over when they saw the altercation. The officer interrupted us, “Whoa, whoa. Someone tell me what’s going on here.”

“She’s got my stuff from the apartment in her trunk. I saw her putting it in there.”

“That bitch is crazy. I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“If you could open your trunk for us we can end this right now.”

“I ain’t doin' shit. You can’t make me open my trunk. Leave me alone”

The officer turned to me and said,

“I don’t have the authority to search her car. If she won’t open her trunk voluntarily, I can’t make her.”

The other dancer grinned at me triumphantly and waddled her fat ass back to the club entrance. I yelled after her, "When that drunken scumbag rapes you tonight- don’t say I didn’t warn you. I hope you don’t get away from him.”

I wanted to go after her, but Gino pulled me back and deposited me in the truck. I was dumbfounded that all of us knew she had my costumes and my money, but we were powerless to do anything about it.

Next time I had a problem I would solve it myself.

“Well, what should we do?" Gino asked, "you want to go to TO and talk with your agent? Maybe you could stay at the Warwick and get the tailor to replace a few of your costumes.”

“All my money was in my jacket.”

“Why the hell do you save your money on you? You can open a bank account up here, you know?”

“The last time I had a bank account my roommate emptied it. I turn my pay into traveler’s checks and sew them into the lining of my jacket. That way I’m the only one who can cash them.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit. Exactly.”

“Let me get your suitcase so you can put some clothes on before you freeze.”

He pulled out my suitcase with the street clothes in it and brought it up front. I tugged out a pair of jeans, my sneakers, and a sweater, then shimmied into them in the front seat.

“Buckle up. We’re going to have some fun” He said, smiling.

He pulled in front of the white car and backed up a good ten feet, then hit the gas and rammed the back end of the car until the trunk crumpled up like a tin can. Swerving out of the parking lot he hit the highway at about sixty and laughed all the way to the next intersection.

“Holy shit. You didn’t just do that, did you?”

“Ha, yeah. I did. Let her try and open her trunk and sell your costumes now. Fat bitch. Hope she wasn’t planning on trying to squeeze into them.”

I was still reeling from the losses, but the demolition derby helped soften the blow. I didn’t know he had it in him. I just hoped the cop didn’t have his license plate recorded.

He pulled into a restaurant that served breakfast all day, so we could plan the next moves, now that I was without more than half of my shows. He put my other suitcase on the passenger seat so I could see what costumes were left. Damn, the Cabaret suit jacket was gone. The White Satin gown was gone, as were the Jungle Fever and the yellow disco jumpsuit, and my black sequined gown. Those were huge losses for me. At least she hadn't stolen the little old lady costume that I had picked up at the Salvation Army store in Quebec City.

When we sat down in a booth at the restaurant, he handed me a pen from his pocket and a napkin and I quickly wrote a list of the remaining costumes.

'Doll Costume, red jumpsuit, Singing in the Rain- partial costume, Cabaret halter top and shorts'

“Well, this sucks. That’s not even enough for one shift at a club. It seems like I’m always starting over.”

“Cheer up. Let’s go shopping. We’ll pick up a few outfits that the tailor guy can fix up for you and you’ll get through the next couple of weeks. Damn, I think she stole your twirling capes too. I didn’t see them anywhere.”

I fell asleep and when we got to Toronto, he woke me up to see if I wanted to stay at the Warwick Hotel, my home away from home in Canada. It seemed like the best place to be. My agent lived nearby, and I had good friends there.

Gino was going to take me to Eaton Center to look for temporary replacement costumes. Usually, I did not like to depend on anyone, especially men, for supplying me with things I needed for work- or anything else, for that matter. However, I figured that after three months of lying his fool head off to me about his marital status, he owed me and I was going to make him pay through the nose for it. Wait until his wife asked him where his paycheck for the past month had gone.

I burned through his wallet faster than a rooster shitting runny turds after eating a spoonful of molasses, and it felt good. I thanked him for getting me back on the road with new gowns, underthings, and very expensive shoes, and kissed him goodbye sweetly when he told me he had another shift at the glass factory.

"Well, thank you for rescuing me. I'll see you when I see you." Or not...