Is stripping below me, or does it fit?

Before Rizzo even fully stepped out of the subway station, she heard a woman yell "Shit! Where the hell did that puddle come from?!" From the foul language, Rizzo knew that it was probably Washington Heights "klassiest" stripper, Molina Rose. Even though it was impossible to tell that Molina might spell "classiest" with a "K," Rizzo had a sneaking suspicion. She realized that mocking an employed Molina was out of place, especially coming from a basically homeless and unemployed woman- herself.

Trudging through the wet, dirty streets on a day such as this was made bearable when she wore her father's black army boots. Dirt couldn't penetrate those suckers. Not even Washington Heights' dirt. She looked both ways before she crossed the street and headed for the bakery. "Stripping is such easy money," Rizzo thought to herself as she spotted more girls (skanks) exiting the strip club after a thriving night. She could barely afford to eat three meals a day on her fixed income- that would be zero dollars. She scrubbed dishes from time to time at the bakery for a bagel or something. If anyone at a local Washington Heights' restaurant called in sick or didn't show up, their managers knew to go walk into to car #1 and wake Rizzo up to fill the position that day. It just so happened that most of Washington Heights' residents were losers, so this was a daily occurrence, and this was usually how she ate dinner. Once she filled in for the Rabbi during Sunday school classes. It was a toddler level class. They probably couldn't distinguish between the bearded Rabbi and Rizzo anyway.

A wad of cash fell from the pocket of Miss Kandi Jones, the strip club's "naughty teacher," who was walking in front of her. "Holy shit! That is more money than I've ever seen in one place! Did she make that ALL last night?!" Rizzo's inner voice screeched inside her head. She picked it up off the ground, and enviously handed it back to the smug Miss Kandi. Maybe she would rethink this whole stripping thing after all, but she had to wonder, "Is stripping below me, or does it fit?"