Stripper Showdown!

On Sunday night, I finally had my run in with Baby Momma.

We were both booked to work that day at the club. I had written down her showtimes so that I could avoid her, until I discovered that she would be working the floor at South Club, and there would be no way I could miss her. And though I wasn’t looking forward to the inevitable confrontation, I was amazingly calm about the whole thing. I didn’t spend the day dreading the moment when I would finally see her, nor did I let it ruin my entire day. This, in and of itself, is completely out of character for me, and took me by complete surprise. I realized two things - the first was that all my days in the gym, sweating out my rage and fantasizing about the moment that she would see my super toned body after calling me fat pig over and over were making ma a lot more confidant about myself and how I looked - I knew I wasn’t fat, and I was proud of how hard I had worked on my body. The second thing was that even though I would rather avoid a direct confrontation with her, I knew that she wouldn’t be able to resist coming after me, and I had shut my mouth for long enough. I realized that I was looking forward to finally being able to defend myself.

Still, I avoided the actual moment of confrontation for as long as I could. I stayed at the club downtown doing my makeup until the last possible minute, then booked it for the south club. She, of course, was waiting for me when I walked in.

I walked past her on the floor without saying a word or even looking in her direction. I had hoped that I would get to use the small dressing room while she was in the big one, or vice versa, but the male dancers were there that night, so the small room was occupied. I lugged my stuff into the big dressing room, and watched in the mirror as she followed me in. I dumped my stuff on the couch and went immediately into the bathroom, staying for as long as I could in there, until I realized that I was jeopardizing my show time for this bull shit, and it was time to get ready.

I opened the door, and thankfully she was gone. I started to get dressed for my show, and just as I was pulling on the jacket for my FBI, she waltzed back into the room. So I grabbed my CD book and left for the DJ booth, where I gave him my music and finished putting on my costume. When I came back into the dressing room she was standing in the middle of it, doing her hair in the middle of the fucking room. I still refused to look at her as I packed up my stuff, but to my relief the DJ started calling for her.

“Hey Baby Momma, do you wanna do some more shows?” he yelled into the room.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” she yelled back.

Thankfully she had to leave then, though I could sense her reluctance and her burning desire to say something to me. A moment later the DJ appeared in the dressing room, so I asked him to help me move my stuff into the DJ booth before I went onstage. I ended up having a pretty good show, though i was shaking uncontrollably and couldn’t do any pole work. But I cracked lots of jokes and the audience seemed to really like me, which was really all that I wanted in front of Baby Momma.

When I was done my show and had signed my promo, I stayed in the DJ booth to get dressed into my street clothes again. That’s where she pounced.

“So, are you gonna keep ignoring me all night, or can you act like a grown up for one minute and talk to me?”

“After what you wrote about me, Baby Momma, we have NOTHING to talk about.” I snapped. She pulled her chin into her neck and snorted and rolled her eyes, which I would soon discover would be her answer for a lot of things that night.

I turned my back on her and continued getting dressed.

It is now several days later, and most of the conversation has now faded from my memory, so I won’t bother to try and write it out, word for word. basically, she said that because I have her daughter 50% of the time, I had better grow up and talk to her. I threw back that she was the absolute PINNACLE of maturity, trashing me on Facebook. She told me that I was making things worse for Bf, in regards to his court case, and I snorted my disagreement. I didn’t want to point out that actually, I had never been stupid enough to write everything down and post it in a public forum as she had, because in a way I hoped she would keep doing it, so we could use it in court. But I did tell her that she is actually the one making things worse for herself, and why doesn’t she just fuck right off? She walked away at this point, yelling “Homewrecker!” over her shoulder as she left the DJ booth. I breathed a sigh of relief, but of course it wasn’t over. She came back a few minutes later, and started back taking digs at me for being immature, and every time she did, I would point out all the things that she has done in the past few months to hurt me. i told her that she treated me like shit, and she told me that I deserve to be treated like shit. Then she said something like think about how I feel Kg, and I told her at least I have never attacked her the way she continuously does to me, nd she said that I had. This one I remember word-for-word.

“Name one example of when I have attacked you the way you keep attacking me, Baby Momma,” I demanded.She just pulled her chin into her neck and snorted her derision, so I kept pressing.

“Give me an example,” I said again, and again she just snorted.

“Give me one example!” I yelled at her, and after thinking for a moment, she brought up the fact that I had crossed the line when I interfered with her getting money from Miles.

“So that just gives you permission to keep crossing the line, over and over and over?” I demanded.

“Fine then, how about in the beginning, when I had to tell you to stop texting Miles? You broke up my family!”

“Oh please, Baby Momma,” I snapped, secretly relieved that she had once again tried to throw this in my face, like she does in every confrontation. “We all know you were already seeing other people by then, so don’t even try that with me.”

By this time I was back in my regular clothes. I picked up my costumes and my stage bag and moved towards the steps out of the DJ booth, but she wouldn’t move.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have to get to my next show,” I said, moving past her as she stepped back.

“Have a nice time with my daughter tonight,” she snapped bitterly as I passed her.

“I will,” is what I WANTED to say, but I kept my mouth shut and just kept walking. She yelled something else from the DJ booth but I couldn’t hear it, and when I was just about past it, I felt something bounce off my shoulder, but I just kept walking. Whatever it was was clearly aimed for my face, but I was so relieved to be out of there that I didn’t acknowledge it. I just kept on getting the fuck out of there!

So now, a few days later, it is Bf who is being punished for my insubordination, as she has retaliated by denying him access to his daughter. Initially i was distraught by this, but Bf knew better and called her bluff - he was certain that by Wednesday, which is the day he gets to have Baby when she is with her mother for the week, she’d be desperate for a break from child minding all day long, and would call him up. He was right. She actually called and asked him to pick Baby up a day early. And so, in the aftermath of my confrontation with Baby Momma, I am feeling a myriad of emotions. I feel satiated and satisfied, finally released from the confines of my vow of silence and having expressed my anger at Baby Momma. I feel vindicated, as we both know that I won that fight, that there was nothing she could say because she knew that everything I said was true. However, there is also a lot of fear and uncertainty in the mix - what is going to happen now? Will she grow up and back off, and step down from her campaign of hatred against me? Or have I infuriated her even more, merely encouraging her to step the offensive up a notch? Is it possible that things could get better? And is it possible that they could get much worse? As I write this, it is Friday evening, and as of Wednesday she had not posted anything on Facebook in regards to me, or to anything, for that matter - is it possible that she is going to stop this? I have already prepared a plan for a peace offering if she manages to keep from trashing me for one whole week - we are working together on Sunday, and I plan to bring her a disk of all the pictures of her daughter that she has missed out on these past few months because she was too busy punishing me. I am certainly not going to offer my friendship to her again, for I know that it could never work. But I would really like it if we got to a place where we could be civil to each other, for Baby's sake.

We'll see how it goes.