<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">Lacy was the type of girl who loved spontaneity. Surprises in her life were usually pleasant ones. Nothing too traumatic. Lacy and her friends were the spunky anti-sorority chicks on campus that fit in neither the feminist or superficial categories. Just the random traveling party girls. They'd make friends with complete strangers, and the next year go traveling to stay at said stranger's house. She danced on tables in the karaoke room. A speaker at clubs. Booty contests at nightclubs. The person being described sounded utterly spontaneous and confident right? Which was the reason Lacy was coming down hard on herself. Her nerves were on edge, and although she wasn't, Lacy felt like she was sweating bullets right now. As she sat in the dressing room full of half naked girls she didn't know, she felt unsettled. Questioning whether or not to bail while she could. <br/><br/>She played with the lapel of her silk robe. Wishing they'd turn the stinking air conditioning down. Just long enough to discern if she was having cold feet, or if it <em>was</em> the a.c. making her have the jitters. On top of everything, she was semi pissed. The girl that recruited her into the Sin Bin promised Lacy that she'd be working along with her that night. But she was no where to be found. Lacy checked her phone constantly. Only her friend's voice mail came on. "I thought you said you'd be sitting in the chair next to me, doing your makeup when I got here. What the fuck Cindy? Where <em>are</em> you!?" She spoke into the receiver, cupping her hand over her mouth, so no one could read her lips. "Call me back bitch." While she delivered the first part of her message with a sound of panic in her voice, the last part was for shits and giggles. <br/><br/>When she hung up, an abrupt knock at the door made Lacy back up into her vanity. The makeup and hair products toppling over from the impact. A sudden wave of nausea hit her as the door opened. Not because the men standing outside made her ill. She didn't know them well enough to read yet. Despite that, she was dreading the close interaction with so many strange men without her friends to be her 'wing men.' These were no mere college boys she was set to entertain. Whose idea of a good time was a titty flash and a make out session. These were business men, elitists of the tri-state area. Who Lacy assumed were all sleazy, married womanizers. She didn't have to sleep with any of them did she? As the thought crossed her mind, the girl bit down on her index finger. Maybe the waiting was what bothered her. Once she was out on stage, she would feel better, she hoped. </span><br/><br/><div align="center">(http://i232.photobucket.com/albums/ee80/One_Way/Home/normal_black010.jpg)</div>