She wasn’t as aggressive as the other dancers, so she never got to work the peak hours. She wasn’t much of a night person anyway and usually went to sleep around nine or ten like some kind of child or an old lady. Bingo thought it was kind of cute, but it meant he didn’t get to see her very much since he was usually up pretty late. He tried to wake up early enough to see her dance whenever he got the chance, but it had been a while. With the tension escalating between the Bozos and the French clown gang, Le Mystère, Bingo was working more hours than usual, putting in time as backup muscle on any job involving the boss or his son, Jimmy Bozo. When they entered the club, the cleaners stood in the back of the room, awkwardness written all over their faces. Maybe they’d never been in a clown strip club before, or maybe it was because their makeup had smeared so much that it was obvious they were just vanillas in clown-face. But dancers in these clubs were masters at reading body language and knew they had to engage the shy customers if they ever hoped to get money out of them.
