“Lemme hit dat mommy!” someone else said. “Dat ass lookin’ kinda fat!” “I’ll break ya muthafuckin’ back!!” “You can’t handle dis dick.” “I ain’t no joke … fa real ….”

“Da muy baseo, Mommy! (Gimme a kiss, Mommy)” yet another man spoke in Spanish, taking the liberty to fondle her buttocks as she passed.

It seemed like every time she looked up, someone different was in her face propositioning her. There were strippers of different shapes and sizes everywhere, along the walls, up in the bleachers, on stage, walking through the thick crowds of men, doing their thing. She saw guys engaging in oral sex in front of everyone. Strippers were lap dancing, wall dancing, jerking guys off, and committing every imaginable sexual act known to man.

On stage, one stripper had lots of guys’ attention; she was putting on a show, using two glow-in-the-dark dildos. She rammed them into every opening. It seemed as if she was enjoying it just as much as they were. They swarmed on her, like rats to cheese, savagely pawing at her private parts.

This was a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah, the biblical city that God had destroyed with fire and brimstone—because the people were committing such sexually deviant and perverse acts. Goldie hadn’t ever seen anything like it, not on this scale. The gym was packed with freaks on both sides of the coin.

It didn’t take long for Goldie to get into the swing of things. She began taking dates back to the secure VIP area, servicing their sexual needs. Back and forth she went—each time she brought someone different. In the back of her mind she was counting up all the money she made. Immediately after this, she planned on going to see one of the drug boys around her way. She was going to get high, high, high.

AS THE WEEKS WENT ON, when Goldie wasn’t doing private parties, she stripped at sleazy clubs in The Bronx. She bounced around The Golden Lady, The Wedge and Harry’s Triangle in the Hunt’s Point section, from one club to another. Nikko introduced her to these places and took the majority of Goldie’s pay. She left her just enough money to pay her weekly room rent, carfare and her habit.

Alone in her room she would get high and write in her diary. On days like these, her mother’s ghost would come out and haunt her. Different images flashed through her mind. Her memory hung over Goldie like an ominous black cloud.

She prayed, read and studied the word of God, searching for some meaning in life. But as hard as she tried to put her life in perspective, she couldn’t.

NIKKO PICKED GOLDIE UP, supposedly to take her to work. “Where we goin’?” she questioned. “Da club ain’t dis way.”