Saturday Night

I haven't worked a Saturday night in over five months. Last night I did... And it was awful. Usually the club is packed with upwards of 500 people. (Five hundred being a slower night.) There might have been 250 people in at its peak. No one made any money. I went home with $200 and that was a lot better than what most people made last night.

There were 52 girls in last night. I have never seen so many. I went up on stage once, and I didn't get a single private dance. It was terrible.

Last night was interesting though. I had a few realizations. First, there aren't many girls working that have been there longer than I have. Out of the 52, there were only five that pre-dated me. A lot of the new girls know who I am, but they've never worked with me. Everyone was commenting that they were happy to see me and were very surprised that I was there. During day shift everyone treats eachother pretty equally, but at night there is a hierarchy. Last night I was given the respect of a veteran, and that felt weird. I feel like I just walked in a few weeks ago myself. Second, I found that I don't know how to work a night shift anymore. It's been so long, I was having a hard time. Third, I realized I am very convincing and determined.

I've been wearing the same clothes at work for a year now. Pretty boring and basic. Nothing special at all. Since I work a lot of day shifts, I don't need to be flashy and new and sparkly. I can wear a tight t-shirt and boy shorts and everyone thinks it's grand. At night, you have to be better than that. So, with the very little money I had before work, I went shopping for three new outfits. If you get to know me outside of work I wear lots of bright colors, but at work it's a lot of black. Well I bought a green outfit, a purple outfit, and a white and black polka-dot outfit. People seemed to respond well to it. ...If only there had been more people.

I got to work at 8:30. My make-up was already done so I was on the floor by nine. At ten I ran into a guy I haven't seen in a few months. He doesn't get dances, which is fine because I enjoy talking to him. He left at 10:30 and I had $40 in my pocket. I didn't make any more money until my stage set at 1:30 in the morning. (Normally on a Saturday night, I would be on stage two or three times.) My very first stage there was a bachelor. I went over to him. His friend said "Beat his ass." I wasn't in the mood so I said no. I said congratulations and gave him a kiss on the cheek. As I did, he hauled off and hit my ass. It hurt. Immediately, I open handed him on the side of his head as hard as I could. He was stunned and said "What was that for?" "If you hit me, I hit you harder." He kept trying to put dollars on the stage and I ignored them. He got pissed and told the bouncer I hit him. The bouncer knows me well and asked "Well what did you do to deserve it?" When I got off the stage I had a medium pile of ones. I was sitting and sorting them when I guy came up to me "Hey you're rich you can go home now." I looked at him "Look around. It's crap. I am barely making minimum wage." He looked at me "It's not how much money you make it's how big the pile looks. That's all that's important. It's not like you have anything to buy but drugs and alcohol." I walked away.

After stage and putting aside tip out and house fee, I had $100. Remember, I did not have a single private dance and only one stage set, and yet I went home with $200. How did I make that extra hundred you ask. Well that is determination. A few days ago I had been told that I should tap into my blue eyes. Well 3:30 hit and I still only had $100. That was not enough I said.  I needed more. I sat down on the guy's laps. I smiled my dimply smile and looked them very squarely in the eye. Not in a "stare down" way but in a "I'm so enthralled with what you're saying I can't take my eyes from yours." After a few minutes I would say in a whispy, meek voice "Would you like a private dance?" While slightly raising my eyebrows and widening my blue eyes. No one had money at  this point. But everyone grabbed their wallets to check. "I don't have enough for a dance..." I would look down and then up saying softly "Well that's alright." As I would motion to go they would hand me all the money in their wallets "It was so nice talking to you." I would kiss them on the cheek and say good night. I did this until I had $200. I feel a little bad about taking their last money, but I never suggested or asked. They gave. I need to use my eyes more.

Inner Circle

It's been awhile since I've posted. Sorry! I've been working twelve hour days at the club and I haven't had much time to write.

I've been working at the club for almost a year, and I finally feel like I have been accepted into the inner circle. The inner circle is made up of the girls that have the highest earnings, the girls that no what they're doing, these are some of the best girls in the mid-West. Skill wise and money wise, I'm on the same level, but I was never accepted into the group. And I never figured out why. I had thought it was because I was still new, and they didn't trust me.

Work has been very slow this past week. Yesterday there was a long period of time when there was no one in the club. Lately the top earner, and the most respected girl at the club, has been talking to me. She and I have a long history, and I will get into that in a later post. Yesterday she told me that she did not want to talk to me or help me out as a beginner because of my potential. She saw in me an ability to make more money than anyone else. She never wanted to help me because she knew if I tapped into my potential, she would start losing money. She views me as her biggest competition. She had everyone else keep me at arms length.

In the past two weeks I have gone from being on the outside of the inner circle to being on the inside of the inner circle. I never thought of myself as being the competition. I've always been there to make money. I keep my head down, so I don't step on anyone's toes.

It's a little funny. I hit the point in my "career" where all I want is to be done, and that is the point where everyone starts to accept me. It doesn't make the job any easier, but at least I know why I was treated so poorly for so long.

Will It Get Better?

I need to be sad for a little while because my life is overwhelming right now. I realize my life is not terrible, but I feel like it right now. I am going to vent all of my frustrations and feelings. This doesn't happen often, but sometimes I need to. And the two friends I need right now are out of town.

First of all, and this is the most pressing, I have a heart condition and I'm going to London for two weeks this summer. How do these two relate? London costs a lot of money to go, and I need to make a lot of money. My heart condition has made me take almost four weeks off of work because it has been acting up. So, in order to pay all of my bills and go to London I need to make damn near $9,000 this month. That is soooo much money. I'm stressing out so much. London isn't just this fun trip either, I got into a translation program that could end up making my career. So, part of it is a vacation, but the reason why I'm going is for my education/future.

Second, Jamie dropped his phone, iPhone, last night and it broke. So that's $150 that we didn't have that we had to spend today. I'm not mad at him; I'm just mad that all I do is spend money and never get to put it towards savings, the trip, or things I want/need.

Third, Jamie forgot how much money he had and what bills needed to be paid. (Usually he is very, very good about this.) Anyways, I just found out today, that I need to come up with almost $500 to pay for rent by tomorrow. And I need to pay off the tires we bought six months ago. All of this is within the next three days. And I'm going to be out of town tomorrow. And I'm sick and having chest pain. And I'm just dying... Or at least I feel like I am.

Fourth, I'm not sleeping well at night because I keep dreaming about a time in my life that I would rather forget. A VERY long story short: I dated a guy from 17-19. I was very depressed and suicidal. He raped me for the full two years we were together. There are many, many, many reasons why I didn't leave him. Eventually I did. Because it was such a traumatic period of my life, I blocked  a lot of specific incidents out of my mind. The last month or so, I have started remembering things in my dreams. It keeps me from sleeping well. It's hard because I don't really talk about anything specifically to anyone. My personality keeps me from confiding in people or talking to anyone about it. My good friends call me all the time because they need to talk about things going on in their lives. I love that they do this with me, but I've just realized that I've never done that. When I tell things that happen to me it's very non-specific and I drop it into conversations because I don't want it to be a "big" thing. Even though the things I need to talk about/should talk about are really big things. I know how to be a friend that is there, but I have a hard time letting my friends be there for me.

Fifth, I really hate my job. I cried all the way to work today. I'm angry that I have to be here. I'm angry that no one is here to pay me. I'm angry that I don't get to be a normal college student. My good friend Alexis, tells me that I need to go to work with the attitude of "this will make a great blog post." She tries to make it sound bearable, and she wants the best for me. And I love her for it, but it doesn't make it any easier to go to work. The blogging is cathartic, but quitting my job would be more so.

I was in tears walking on campus today talking to Jamie because of the stress from all the money I have to make. I don't know how or if I even can make enough. I'm not normally emotional and I seldom cry. But today I've been crying a lot. My heart condition is acting up and making it really hard for me to work. My life has been hard and difficult, and I just want it to be easy. I know my life is "better" than what it was, but it's not necessarily good. I have a wonderful boyfriend. I have super supportive friends. But I want to quit my job. I've been trying to have a social life at school. In order to have a social life I have to give up working, and I can't do that. I just want to be a normal college student. With normal problems. I want to be worried about finishing my paper. I don't want to have to worry about paying $2500 in bills every month. I want to go out and party (sans the drinking). I want life to get easier. I don't want it to be this hard. I just want my life to get easier.

Relationships

Because I strip and I have a curious mind, I have done a lot of research on stripping. I have read a lot of books and articles about stripping.

It's interesting how all the scholarly material is done about the client-stripper relationship, the stripper's relationship with herself, the stripper's personal history. If you think about each one of these things the research done isn't overly surprising. I'll sum it up for you.

The client-stripper relationship is interesting. There are two types of guys that go to the club. 1) The kind that go regularly. 2) The kind that go with a group for a social outing. The first kind is not what the public usually expects. These men are in a few different situations, but tied together by the bond of loneliness. They are usually single workaholics, men that travel and are away from their families or don't have families, or men that are older and don't like their wives anymore. These men want attention and don't have anyone else to get it from. These men develop a bond with a certain girl and only go into the club for that girl. The relationship is not based on anything sexual. It becomes a companionship. These men are so lonely they will pay to feel loved. (For the strippers this is how we make our big money. We develop regulars on certain days and we cultivate the bond they feel for us. We may or may not care for them, but they care for us. Because of that we are able to milk them for money. It's not nice, but it is the way it works.) The second kind are there because of their friends. They don't come that often and when they do the "group" mindset takes over and they aren't usually very kind. They are there to make women feel like sexual objects and use us. They may get a dance or two, but they tip well at the stage. They want the girls to flirt and flatter and lead them on. They usually expect us to go home with them because we're "easy."

The girl develops a relationship with herself throughout her carrier. She either becomes more sexual or less sexual depending on the girl. Though there is almost always some self loathing at one point, there is always a confidence boost because of the job. The girl become more empowered. Girls that do it to put themselves through college and keep their goals in order and stay grounded tend to be more successful than other women. This is because we know how to read a crowd, a group, and a person. We know how to make a sale to the crowd, group, and person. We know what works for us and what doesn't. We can handle rejection, and we don't take it personally. We are determined. There isn't a lot that can tear us down either.

The personal history of strippers tends to be fairly similar. Girls tend to have similar histories of little familial support. There is usually some form of abuse. Many girls have been sexually abused to some extent by someone. Usually the girls start with little to no self-confidence. A lot of girls have no sexual identity when they start. Other girls are forced into it by circumstance. No money, they have children as teenagers, they need money immediately. They have a drug addiction. And other reasons. There's usually some kind of troubled past.

I find it interesting being a part of this community because I can see the validity of all of these in one way or another. I can also explore the complexities and how all of these relationships intertwine to make a complicated situation, more so.

What I find even more puzzling is the lack of research done on the relationship between strippers. I find this to be one of the more complicated relationships. For me, I feel the other relationships are fairly common sense. While dancing I have encountered two ideologies when it comes to friends. First group, and also the more commonly thought ideology, don't make friends at work. Second group, friends help you make money. There is a lot of people and strippers that are loners at work. They have their "sort of friends," but no one they are close to . They do this because it can be hard to compete against your friends for money. These girls look at everyone else as their competition. Sometimes they do really well. Friends can be distracting at work. Like anything else, if they're having a bad day you want to be a good friend and help. This can mean losing out on dances which means losing out on money. Second, friends help you make money. Allies can point you in the direction of money.

I don't believe in the first ideology. In the beginning I was alone at the club because I was the new girl and going through my hazing. I did not make nearly as much money as I do now. Being completely alone at work can have an adverse affect. You don't have anyone to look out for you and make sure you're safe.

I am a sincere believer in the second ideology. Friends make work fun on slow days. Sometimes you can tag team and do one dance with two girls. More importantly, not every guy is going to like every girl. I have friends that are both similar and different from me at work. When I know a guy won't go for me, but I think he would like one of my friends. I point my friend in his direction. If I dance with a guy that isn't picky and has money I will send all my friends his way. If I can't make money off of a guy, I would rather have my friends make money off of him than a bitch I don't like. I also know that my friends will do the same thing for me. If they see someone that is looking for a girl like me they point me his way. I make more working in a team. I also feel safer knowing that there are a few girls that actually care about me as a person, and want to make sure that nothing bad happens.

The relationship is complicated between strippers. I could write a whole book on it. I'm really not joking about that. Strippers cause so much drama within the group. I will leave on this note. The bouncers stop more stripper fights than any others...

Judgie

Stripping I get used to being judged and feeling prejudices. It's pretty normal in my life. It's rare when I find people that are genuinely interested in what I do. And even more rare to find people that are a) proud of me b) think it's awesome.

I have always had the opinion that I won't hide my job. I know people that do hide it, and I see how badly it back-fires and ruins their life. From the very beginning I have been open and have told people what I do. All of my bosses at my other jobs know that I strip. They are very supportive and we talk openly about it. I don't like my job, but I am not ashamed of it and I will not hide it, come what may.  I have lost friend because of my job. And I have my struggles socially (post about that one fraternity). 

Today the world's view is starting to change. I can see that in my generation. Most people my age are pretty lassez-faire about the whole situation. There are some that are against it and think I'm "evil."  A lot of the older generations are still very against it and the taboo stripping represents. I've been lucky with my grandparents understanding and their only concern is my safety.

There is a harsh reality to my job. A lot of the time when people find out I strip, I can read every thought on their faces. "Oh, she's a prostitute." "She's dumb." "She has no morals." "She does drugs." "She's an alcoholic." "She loves sex." "She's a cheater." People judge without getting to know me. They don't want to know why, how, why. They write me off without any information. I would be lying if I said I don't judge because I do... A lot. I tend judge people all the time. It's funny though. When it comes to occupation and that kind of thing I don't judge very often. Because of my job I do know drug dealers and prostitutes. I don't judge them. I may not like them, but I don't judge because I don't know what happened or their background. I hate the way I feel when someone is judging me because of my job and that person's inability to empathize or understand difficult situations. So, I don't want to do that to someone else.

I am lucky enough to go to a very liberal, progressive college. I am lucky to have the boyfriend that I do, who stays with me through the truly terrible times. This year I met my roommate, Vera, who has become one of my closest friends. I told her what I do the very first day I met her, so that she was aware of the situation. I knew we would become very good friends because of her response "Oh, that's interesting. How does that work?" And it wasn't in the "Ohhhhh (judgment, judgment, judgement) that's hmmm... interesting (slut, slut, slut)." She didn't judge and has been totally accepting and supportive through everything.

Recently I have been growing close to several girls within a sorority that is known for being feminists and accepting. They all find it first, shocking because it's not a me kind of job and second, interesting. They keep telling me they're proud of me. I've never had anyone tell me that because of my job. Since becoming friends with them I've heard "It's amazing you can do that, I would never have the courage to do that." I never thought I would hear that from anyone. For them this is normal, this is how they feel. For me it is so unique and unusual. I have finally found a group of people that I can be me, and just me. I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. I can be honest. I have a hard time fitting in with a group of people because my personality is so eclectic. These girls have showed me that it's okay to work the job I work. That even if my job sucks, it's still an accomplishment that I can do it. I am so grateful to have found friends that support, accept, and respect what I do. I don't know if they'll ever know to what extent all of this means to me. 

Mexicans!!!

I want to put a disclaimer on this. I am NOT racist. I know at the end of this I am going to seem like a huge hypocrite. Keep in mind that I do strip. Safety is a huge factor for me. At this point I don't care who I discriminate against as long as I stay safe. I have several Mexican friends, who I have told these stories to, and they agree with me. Anyways, here is my highly offensive post against Mexicans... Don't hate me.


I started stripping very idealistically. I'd heard stories about people being discriminatory against certain races. I said to myself "I won't do that. I'm accepting. I'm not racist." I've already told my story about the Mexican trying to force me to blow him on my third day. That should have been a clue to me, but it wasn't. There's also the memorable encounter of the three Mexicans trying to steal things off of my person... Shoe... Ring.


Other memorable moments:


There was a private dance with a guy who was very rough with me. I stopped the dance short because he would not ease up and I couldn't take it. And I'm a tough cookie. I can deal with a lot of pain. I went straight up to the dressing room after. I don't bruise easily, it takes a lot of force. I already had five distinctive bruises on each boob. Where each finger grabbed me, they left their mark. The physical symbol of how painful my job is. When I got home Jamie saw as I was in the shower. He cried for me. There's a point where there are no more tears to cry.


One guy kept trying to rip, I do mean rip, my underwear off.


One didn't understand that "DON'T touch my pussy." Means don't touch my pussy. I did learn how to say it in Spanish, the Mexican slang version though. 


I never thought I would say "No you may not smell my vagina." (This is not just particular to Mexicans, it's particular to most guys. I just have to say it more often to Mexicans.


One guy was not satisfied with me being in underwear for our private dance. He asked for a refund.


One guy refused to pay and the cops got called. I never did get that money.


There was one that scratched me so hard my back bled. I had to have my friend wash my back for me, it hurt so bad. He was smart enough to do it at the end, so he got his money's worth.


I was sitting with my back to someone in private dance. All of a sudden he bit me so hard on the neck I had a bruise and teeth marks for days. I'm still surprised he didn't take a chunk out of my neck.


One guy grabbed my nipples really hard and twisted them. I told him "Stop," so he did it again. And I did it to him. His response was "Why'd you do that." I told him because he did it to me. I made him tip me forty bucks because I'd had a bad night, and that was the last straw.


I do dance with some Mexicans. They're the ones that I know. They also know not to mess with me. There are some very respectful men. I hate to lump all Mexicans into one group. But I have found that at work it is safer for me to ignore them as a group completely than take a chance on the few good ones. I want to also say, that I'm not making the statement "Mexican" and meaning anyone from South America that speaks Spanish or men that were born in the US and whose parents/grandparents were from Mexico. I am talking about actual Mexicans. The ones who have only been here for a few years, and are planning on going back to Mexico. I do get to know them a little bit before going back to private dance. 


I'm not racist, outside of the club. When I'm in the real world race/color does not matter to me at all. But inside the club it does. I would rather offend someone than go home with a bruise because of someone else. It's not nice to me or my boyfriend. I don't want visible symbols of someone's brutality going home with me.

Angry Moments at Work!!!

So after the awkward moments at work. I thought I would do an angry moments at work post. I feel much more strongly about these, and there's more of them.

It's my third day working, a Friday. At this point, I have absolutely no clue what I am doing. I am like a blind person trying to find my way through a mine field. (That might be a bit extreme, but that's what it felt like.) I was approached by a Hispanic man, and I quickly found out that he was from Mexico and spoke almost no English.  He was young, and very excited to be at the strip club, that I could tell. We had a stunted conversation that was a nice combination of his poor English and my poor Spanish. We did one song. I was wearing a gold string bikini. The sides were just tied in bows, so that it would be easy to take off on stage. At the end of the song he said he was done. So I got up and had my back to him. I felt a tug on my bikini and he tried to pull it off. As I turned around he had his dick out. He handed me three dollars. Took me by the hair and tried to force my head down to blow him. He said "It's my Birthday, make it special. I'm 23." I slapped him and had him thrown out of the club. The funny thing is that what was going through my head at the time was "THREE dollars! Three. First of all, I would never do that. Ever. Second, I am worth SO much more than three dollars. Fuck him!" That was my first weekend night. It wasn't my last. But it was the beginning of a trend of assholes that crawl out of their holes on the weekend and congregate together at the strip club.


It was my second month working, and a Saturday night (of course) around 1:30 in the morning, so pretty early. I had started, key word started, learning how to be on the offensive at work. I let my guard down on stage because I figured there were hundreds of people around, so nothing would go wrong. And the bouncers would protect me... (common misconception about bouncers). Well, I was on stage and it was busy. There was a guy with a lot of ones in front of him, so I went over and talked to him for a brief moment. I was completely naked because it was towards the end of my set. I squatted down because it's easier on my knees than kneeling. I wasn't very close to the edge of the stage. I felt like it was a safe distance. The guy's friend jumped up really fast and fingered me in front of everyone. I hit him so hard. I was so pissed. I wanted to scream at him. I called the bouncer over, and his response was "I didn't see anything." I hate this bouncer, luckily he has been fired since then. And he can go to hell for all I care. Anyways, I got FINGERED on stage in front of everyone. I was furious. I just wanted to rail on the guy. It is the one and only time I have cried at work. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried til I threw up. No one saw, no one knew. I couldn't show any weakness at work at this point. I had no allies, no one to protect me. I was new, and not worth a thing to anyone. I ended up leaving early that night because I was so upset. To make matters worse that night I got home to my apartment filled with people I did not know every where. I had such a bad night, and then Jamie and I fought because he didn't even listen. I slept in the car.

I always wear a gold ring on my right, index finger. It's a simple band, nothing flashy. I was working on a Wednesday night, and it was about 2:30 in the morning. I was done for the night, and so I was walking across the floor towards the stairs to the dressing room. All of a sudden a guy grabbed me around the waist and sat me on his lap. I looked at him, and it was a Mexican. He and his two friends were decked out in cowboy hats and alligator skin boots. The one had me pinned in his lap. One grabbed my foot and was trying to take off my shoe. The other had my hand with my ring on it. The one, who's lap I was sitting on, was trying to talk me into going for a private dance. (I had made a lot of money, and was not interested.) I kept saying "no" and he kept pleading in a thick accent.  The one that was holding my hand was trying to pull my ring off my finger. My FINGER! But I had it bent in he wasn't able to remove it. I grabbed my hand away, and then I realized the other one had my shoe off and was trying to hide it from me. I hit the guy, who's lap I was on hard enough he let go. I grabbed my shoe. They started yelling "whore" "slut" "bitch" "cunt" "I'll fuck you when you least expect it." I went home.

I had been dancing for six months, and hadn't worked many Saturday nights in the last three months. I had gotten really good at protecting myself, so bad things were happening less often because I knew how to avoid it. Anyways, it was the first Saturday I'd worked in a month and a half. I was chatting with an older guy, when he started talking about the last time I danced with him, and how I was such a good kisser. (He was sober.) I responded with "I'm sorry, but you have me confused with someone else. I don't do that." He was very adamant, that we made out in private dance. "I swear to God it was you!" "You must have been to high, and don't remember." At this point I said "Go fuck yourself." And walked away.


The last Saturday I worked was a disaster. First, it was a bad day. There weren't very many people and no one made very much money. Second, the stages are made out of wood and cheap wood. The panels were starting to separate. The main stage had a few panels that had 1/4 to 1/2 inch separations with sharp edges. Third, the girls are bitches and always looking to start problems and cause drama. It was my first stage set of the night. I had worked quite a bit that week, and my knees were sore and pretty raw. I have a lot of calluses on my knees form dancing so much. I didn't notice it until I got off the third stage, which was covered in blood. One of my knees had been torn open by the separated panels on the first stage. There was blood all over my leg. You'll think I'm exaggerating when I streaming, but I'm not. The girl after me in rotation, Jen, is a bitch anyways, and she doesn't like me at all. She started screaming at me to find a bouncer to clean the stage so she wouldn't catch anything from my disgustingly diseased blood. I would just like to say, that I am clean. And one of the most respectable girls at work. Anyways, I was now feeling the large gash, and it hurt. But I searched all over the place looking for a bouncer. I finally went up to the dressing room and told the DJ to let one of the bouncers know. I found all of the bouncers hanging out in the dressing room. I told them, and they said "we'll be right on it." Well they didn't. And my friend Adrian made me sit down and helped me take care of my knee. It looked pretty bad, to be honest. Jen stormed upstairs and started screaming at me that I came upstairs and was chatting people up instead of cleaning up disgusting, germ-infested blood off the stage. Adrian, the toughest and most feared girl at the club. Started yelling back. "She was fucking looking everywhere. Tim [the DJ] and I made her sit down and take care of it. You have no right to yell at her. She's never fucking done anything to you bitch. She deserves respect. Give it to her, or you'll regret it." Anyways, bad night. I hate weekends.


I have a heart condition that likes to screw with my working. The past two and a half weeks have been pretty bad, and so I've had to cancel on my regular twice. I had started feeling better, and planned out my week. My symptoms came back with a vengeance combined with my painful period. So I wasn't going to go into work. But my regular texted me half an hour before I had to be there (and I live twenty minutes away) saying "Hey, I'm in town today see you soon." I responded saying "Oh? I thought we were scheduled for tomorrow." "Yeah, but that doesn't work for me. Today does." "Oh... Okay" "Well if you're busy, don't change your plans for me." "No, it's fine I'll be there." UGGGGGHHHHH. What I wanted to say is "I don't go because I enjoy your company. I got because you pay me $300 every week. I just want your money. If you would give me the money without me being there, duh! I wouldn't change my plans." This is me being spoiled.

My angry moments as a stripper, have changed over the last year.