Thursday, December 4, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
The club was pretty much empty today. I left with one hundred dollars which made me want to cry. Living in the city is not cheap and rent was due yesterday. This of course was the direct result of the cops coming in earlier in the week showing pictures of the guy to see how many dancers/staff recognized him. Case closed assholes! The freak show is dead. What more do you want? Needless to say customers fled.
I have a funny feeling about it all. It brings me back to the saying 'believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see'. There has got to be something more to the case if the cops are still asking questions. Still, I feel incredibly guilty getting pissed over such mundane things as money when that poor girl is dead. She was a mother of two for fucks sake! Her murder is now a taboo subject in the club. I exchanged ideas with the bartender who gave me a few free shots of raspberry flavored vodka. There was a creepy guy who wore jeans and a dark hoody that stood in the alley way across from our club and watched the girls leave at night, but that was months ago. He only did it for a week or two. The bouncers and floor hosts scared him off after the girls started complaining.
I don't know. I'm broke, drunk, and still trying to process. I want to get my .22 Ruger I have stashed in Florida right now.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Topless women in plastic shoes have to make a living too. Unless my manager is on the floor I will not take my top off until some one tips me. Sorry but nothings free. Unless of course you're the aforementioned men in the group that are incessantly scrolling emails with their crackberrys. They wait until a guy with some class actually tips me and try to look and me when my back is turned. The back wall is mirrored morons. I can see you doing it. I work at the nicest club in San Francisco and still the guys can be so cheap. I'm sorry the economy is bad. I'm sorry you just got laid off from Goldman Sachs and now only have that measly 10million to help you figure out what your next step is gonna be. I know you wanted at least 20million by the time you hit 35. Really, seriously? I hate you people!
On a more dramatic note there was another fist fight in the dressing room this week. One older dancer (in terms of her longevity at the club, not her age) and a newer dancer were hanging out the previous weekend at a night club and the newer dancer tried to get in the other's boyfriend's pants by selling her up the river when she went to the bathroom. I could see the tension between them build through out the day until one of them took a cheap shot in the dressing room hitting the other one square in the jaw. The older girl is now on a two week probation. Go figure. I like the older girl better than the newer one. I hope she comes back.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Sunday, July 27, 2008
This is a shout out to the mother fucker that ripped me off last Thursday. This burly little Asian guy came into the club after a Giants game wearing a button down Giants shirt and he was drunk. I recognized him or, more accurately, he recognized me. He called me over and as I sat down with him I noticed he looked familiar. He used to come into the club twice a week when I was cocktailing. All the girls know him and his friends. He reminded me that he promised to buy a dance from me if I made my audition. I asked where he wanted the dance and he grabbed my hand and led me up to our VIP area upstairs. He's a regular so no need to get the money upfront.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Yesterday was the strangest day yet at the strip club and is partly what prompted me to start this blog in the first place. The rest of the impulse is a direct result of the fact I now know I'm not aloud to write about the club. A woman from the club was fired three days ago after our General Manager who religiously googles our club's name and location discovered her dominatrix website which made reference to the club. Uncermoniously she was told to come to the club on her day off and clear out her locker. She explained what had happened while shoving shoes and outfits into her carry-all her face void of any emotion.
My audition went by so fast. Getting ready in the dressing room I felt like I was going to throw up. The day shift house mom wasn’t that supportive either. I think she kept forgetting that I already worked at the club since I never worked a dayshift as a cocktail waitress. She went over the rules of my audition briefly and then ignored me leaving me shaking infront of my dressing room mirror until it was time to approach the main stage. She walked me up to the DJ Booth and made a hand gesture to go up and talk to him.
“What kind of music do you like?" He asked.
“Can you play something fast by Nelly Fertado for the first song and the second song can you play Heartbeats by The Knife.” The second song was important to me because that was the song I had to dance topless to.
“I can’t do any more Nelly today but Heartbeats hasn’t been played yet so you’re in luck.”
The house mom then walked me up to the stage entrance and instructed me to meet her on the other side after I was finished.
“Remember, she said, do not leave the stage until the next girl has arrived and do not except tips from the tip rail without putting your top back on.” Then she left me standing there alone waiting my turn watching the amazing dancer before me spin around the stage and crawl up and down the pole showing off her amazing boob job. I was hoping there wouldn’t be many customers that early but for 6pm on a Tuesday the house was packed.
“Everybody put down your drink and clap your hands for our newest auditioning dancer, the lovely Ruby!”
At least the DJ thinks I’m lovely, I thought miserably as a took a shaky step onto the stage in my dangerously high strappy heels.
It was over before I knew it. You know how people say time just stops when your nervous? Well, once I got on stage and strutted around the pole I just had fun. Erotic dancing is just real slow with your body weight centered around your ass and your pelvis. It's not hard to do. Men aren't that complicated. They just want you to bend over until your top comes off. All the butterflies in my stomach managed to fly away and before I knew it my last song was over. One more week as a cocktail server and it was official. I was Ruby.