Sweet Sherri

She strode into the room, walking over to her traditional vanity and putting her glass down. Around her was the typical mass of queens, transvestites and transsexuals that frequented the place, while the cacophony of loud house music and socializing enveloped the scene. She popped open her box of baby wipes and began her usual routine. Wiping off the thick and heavy makeup required for the bright lights of the club came first, then a fresh set of wipes to clean the sheen off of her boobs and her semi-hard dick.

"Hey Sherri!" her neighbor said to her. "Looks like another fan lost out huh?"

"Yeah, yeah, Mona girl. You know that ain't how I roll. I'm not exactly on food stamps with this."

"True. If I knew you didn't get pumped, I'd be getting you on Jenny Craig for them hips," Mona laughed. "But I know ya. You've been around long enough, and if you were going to do that, you've done it by now."

"Hey, I'm just grateful you put me on to this place. Ready for another night at the meat market?"

"Mmmhmm," Mona said as she shimmied into her tight dress on her heels before striking a pose. "And the tube steak is fresh tonight!"

"Three cheers for cultural stereotypes of Black male virility projected onto members of the transgendered community!"

"You and your damned college talk!" Mona said with a dismissive wave. "Though those stereotypes, along with some condoms, help pay my rent...and yours if you think about it."

"True." She flashed a smile and chuckle at Mona, then downed the rest of her hard lemonade. Sherri then fished her bag out from under her vanity and put on her non-work clothes, a black sportsbra and matching cheap Hanes boycut panties, a light blue sweatshirt, some fitting jeans capped off with a matching pair of mac-and-cheese boots and a tawny colored baseball cap. Making her way out of the side entrance, through the bustling crowd and onto the street, she looked like just another twenty-something trying to make it in the big city. Fishing her iPod and Metrocard out, she swiped into the 23rd Street station, then used the music to numb the pain of another long late night wait for the train. At least for her sake, the train ride promised to be short once her train arrived.