Friday, March 20, 2009

Shame and Booze

I'm always hung over. This would be the perfect job if hang overs didn't exist.

Last time I left off with a customer who gives me very little money but lots of useful information. I'll get to that in a minute.

Working five shifts a week is bullshit. I took the day off. I have so much to do at my house. My room reeks of cat piss. My cat won't stop peeing on everything. It doesn't help that I have to give him an I.V. that fills him up like a water balloon everyday. Still, the fact that the urine smells means his kidneys are still working. I need to clean my room badly. My boyfriend has been sleeping on the couch. 

Last Friday (or Saturday, I can't remember which) mine and Summer's boyfriends brought Summer's boyfriend's brother and his girlfriend to the Broadway Club. Everyone saw me dance on stage and I was thrilled with being able to show off. Unfortunately everyone was just a little too fucked up for it to be comfortable. The brother's girlfriend was so wasted she introduced Summer and I to two of her friends by our real names in front of customers. The two friend's of hers work with her at S.F. General Hospital as doctors in residency. When I got off stage I was still putting my top back on when all four of them approached me. The girlfriend loudly called me by my real name while I winced and smiled politely as I shook hands. I was painfully aware of my nakedness, not that I have any shame. Lets just say that I felt like a loser. A smokin hot loser. I desperately willed my grad school applications to turn themselves in and my novel be published. Anything to prove I have a brain.... and then I let all that bullshit go.

I'm happy. I'm figuring myself out on my own terms. 

Before I go on I want to respond to a few comments:

Sapphire Smoke: ... It's interesting, you all are so much more strict in CA. In Texas you have to have your top off on stage (or bottoms, if it's nude) and during lap dances even our "strict" rules can be bent a little...

I guess it's really like that everywhere. It's all about who you are and who you know when it comes to whether or not you'll get in trouble. I know girls who get away with murder. Although, since we do serve alcohol you cannot have your top off during a lap dance. However, some of the girls might as well have them off. They'd wouldn't be showing much more. I get guys in the club from Texas and Nevada all the time who can't wipe the astounded looks off their faces... "You expect me to pay for that?" 

My favorite are the girls who act all high and mighty they work at a 'topless' versus 'full nude club. "I could never show my vagina. That area is sacred!" Yet you can grind on guys dicks all day. Bitch please.

Natalie: 450 for a double shift? I would think that's a slow LONNNG day.

Everyday I go into work is a gamble. Some times I break even, some times I hit it big. The more I show up the better odds I have. I never lie about my money which the majority of dancers do. It's the whole, 'I have to inflate the number or everyone will think no one wants me complex.' It's bullshit. I've seen the most beautiful girls make shit while others not so blessed are raking it in. Half of it is luck, half of it is skill. Some days are like being trapped in a time warp. I blame my excessive drinking on such days. Without booze I'd go out of my mind with boredom. 

I started this post talking about Alec. Alec was a strip club manager and knows a lot of people currently in the industry. Alec is also considering opening his own club. After a couple drinks Alec reveals to me that the reason Blondie and Ashley are both doing Evan is because he's their dealer. Apparently Ashley approached Alec with a little blood trickling down her arm and nodded off on him. Whoa. The moment I heard that I'm thinking, poor thing. She's only twenty-four and the Broadway Club has already chewed her up and she's soon gonna get spit back out.

Well, she was spit out. Last week actually. I heard at Classy Club that she was walking around with a horrible nose bleed that she didn't notice. Evan was refusing to speak to her and he didn't notice in his attempt to ditch her. Finally, after a few horrified customers complained Ashley was approached by house mom who told her to get upstairs to the dressing room and clean her face and chest off. When Ashley descends back on to the floor she still has dried blood all over her. Ashley was terminated right then and there. 

Ashley waited a few days and shows up at Classy Club. Our manager hires her and tells her he just needs to call the Broadway Club to cross check it really is okay for her to come over to Classy. Ashley waves him away with a 'never mind, thanks anyway' grabs her shit and bails. I wonder what she got caught doing.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Five Shifts In One Week... Again!

I took my cat back to the vet and he seems to have stabilized. That's a load off my mind. It still cost me $275.00 for the vet visit which is really nothing compared to the 3+ grand I've already spent on him.

Last Friday Summer and I worked a double, Classy Club for day shift and Broadway Club for night. I walked with about $450.00. That's $450.00 for 16 hours of my time. This week Summer and I are no longer pulling doubles. It seems every time we try to take on a double shift by midnight we're too tired to work the crowd.  Midnight to 2am are the two most lucrative hours. It's not worth it. Summer and I will be working day shift at Classy Club Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday and night shift Friday and Saturday and Broadway Club. I'm hoping to stack up some cash this week. All my rainy day money has been spent on vet bills and I want to take a week off to focus solely on my book so I can finally get this first draft finished already. Writing a book is like running a marathon, the last lap is the hardest and the most important.

I've been getting the strangest requests to meet up outside the club with alarmingly accelerated frequency. Wither it's directly related to working more shifts or more and more girls are doing extra outside of the club. I'm guessing the latter. Men are starting to expect more when I sit down at their table. Times are tough. Dancers are desperate. But if you give a customer an inch they'll take a mile. A man I sat down with at a table with four of his friends asked if my breasts were real and tried to put his hand inside my bra. I caught him by the wrist trying to laugh it off but he was persistent. I hissed in his ear that if he continued I would have the bouncer throw him and his friends out of the club and head first into on coming traffic. His eyes filled with surprise and he jerked his hand away as if my tit were on fire. His pathetic attempt to touch me didn't surprise me. I deal with that all the time. His shock at my reaction caught me off guard. Really?

And ladies, come on! I love giving dances to women, in fact, I prefer to. However, just because you're a woman doesn't mean it's cool to molest me and rip my fucking outfits. We're both women for fucks sake. We can have sex whenever we want. Why are you acting like some desperate dude?

A man I say last Friday named Rick, a successful silver fox type, threw me for a loop. I can tell the reason he chooses to spend time with strippers is because he relishes control. I could spot him from a mile away. We were doing three for $100s and he was pushing the envelope as far as he could getting mildly annoying. Then Rick asked if I was a cop.

Rick owns property in the Caribbean and a four story house in Potrero Hill with the most spectacular view. I've never been inside but I drive by it on my way to my favorite pet food store, Pawtrero.

I answered that I was neither a cop or a prostitute. He then chastised me for being so presumptuous and 'assured me' he didn't want to stick his dick in me'. Yeah, right. Rick then told me he wanted to photograph me in his private studio at his house doing tasteful lingerie poses. Rick said he would pay me $500 per shoot once a week. He would open an account at his favorite lingerie store for me to charge my outfits too, and some of the photos would be 'tastefully' involving other women. I could use the money but it's not worth the head ache. I'd be crossing too many boundaries. 

I looked Rick up online just like he suggested. He does have his own business and he has been written up in Forbes and such. This intrigues me because this means he's actually busy. I just assumed the reason Rick wastes so much time and money at Classy Club is because he's rich and bored. He buys lots of dances and pays well. I hope he doesn't drop me once he realizes I'm not actually going to participate in his 'private photo shoot fantasy'. Rick's all time fantasy is to photograph me with an Asian woman. Apparently their are many girls working at Classy Club that have been photographed by Rick. I wouldn't put it past any of them but it's hard to tell. Customers lie.

On to my next problem, Alec. I'm nervous to write about Alec. The reason I haven't told you guys about Alec before is he's the man I can get in the most trouble talking about if the wrong person discovers this blog. Alec now works in consulting and just opened a bar. When I met him he told me he worked for a consulting firm. He bought dances from me. All the other girls in the club were stunned. Apparently Alec never buys dances from anyone. I saw him as a mark and I played him for all he was willing to give me. I told Alec 'maybe' I'll meet him outside of the club, 'maybe' I like him enough to date him, etc. Now I find out he used to be a strip club manager and knows everyone in this city that's in the industry. Even worse, Alec is friends with all the club owners. WTF!

Alec actually thinks I'm going to be his girlfriend. Everyday he grows more impatient and more insistent on me meeting him outside of the club. This job has given me so much insight to the male ego. Even though Alec has been a club manager, managed girls, and knows the games we play he still thinks he's the special one that will go home with the dancer. 

I've known Alec in the club for eight months now. It's not going to happen and he keeps getting more and more desperate. He's not a big spender, in fact he hardly gives me any money at all anymore. Still, in this small city everyone knows everyone and Alec is a vat of useful information. More on that later. I have to get ready for work.