It's been so busy over here in Bella land. The boys and I have since moved in with my boyfriend in a beautiful home in the Treme. We are all so very happy and are operating so well as a unit. The home life is pretty much perfection.
On a business level, it's been challenging. I haven't stripped in a while. Months probably. The stripping is so hard physically and emotionally. Not knowing how much money you are going to make on any given night while you work your ass of to look good, be flirty, give a shit about what someone is saying, pretending to like them, and dry hump them for sometimes hours on end....it makes me tired just to type it. The best thing about the dancing at this point for me was the pole dancing (which I LOVE. If you don't have a pole, I seriously recommend getting one and taking some classes. Best workout ever.). The stripping was making me bitter and angry and quite frankly just tired all the time.
I have started looking into other ways to make extra money and something that I came across was webcam modeling. There are 2 girls that I know here that are doing it and have been making so much money. One of them made $20k last month...insane. I'm sure that's a rarity. But, even if I just made a quarter of that, I'd be well on my way to saving up for a building. The School of Burlesque wants to grow and I need my own space so very badly. It's almost like a plant that keeps growing but it's in a pot that's too small. I have sent out some emails and am making some contacts about putting a business plan together as well which is another step in the right direction. I just feel so limited on what I can do without having my own space and because of that, I am at a standstill at the moment.
So, my next venture begins in my quest to make the money I need to get this business going. 10 years ago if you had asked me if I'd be working actively in the sex industry, I certainly would have laughed in your face. And now, I am more confident than ever to do that things that I need to do to make my dreams come true, support my family, and make my contribution to the city that I love so very much.
So...here we go...let the modeling begin....
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Patience, Grasshopper
It's been a while since I've blogged and when we last parted ways, there were some trial and tribulations that were coming along with the attempts to get this school up and running. I am no where near what I would like to be or need to be financially. In fact, I'm not even in the remote vicinity of being where I need to be. Money certainly does make the world go 'round and my world is no exception. I find myself getting a little bitter at times when I hear of people who are complete assholes getting handed more money than they know what to do with...and here I am over here dry humping Joe Nobody's leg in hopes that he'll at least give me a $20 tip in addition to the $40 her just spent on the lap dance..or better yet, get an expensive hour with me where he won't ever see my vagina and just get a mad case of blue balls. Sigh. Can you sense the frustration or what?
Ok, enough of that. How about the good news...
The good news is that I should have my car paid off soon. That will allow me to cross off goal #3 of the first post of the first entry of this blog which was started in February.
The good news is that in addition to gigging like a mad woman in New Orleans, I have also picked up teaching class on the Northshore which starts later this month. Lots of opportunity over on that side of the pond. Very exciting. This also means the my Monday night stripping adventures will be less since the class will be on Mondays. I recently had switched clubs but quite honestly, was feeling so burnt out. I need a break for a little while before jumping back into the shark tank. Football season is here though...I hear that's a good time to be swinging around that pole. We shall see. The last time I worked, a girl with a smelly crotch and very low self esteem was looking to me for validity by offering me money to go home with her and sleep with her and her un-boyfriend. I didn't go. I know...crazy right? (That's sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.) That was enough to drive me into a stripper hide out for the time being.
The good news is that I have picked up 2 domme clients that pay well enough to help me get my car almost paid off as well as basic needs for functioning like groceries and electricity.
The good news is that this school WILL happen. I don't know when. And I don't even know exactly how yet. But, I do know that the universe has been good to me so far and regardless of the few hiccups (and bad moods) that come along the way, things always manage to come along at the right time. It's always amazing when it does and it always opens a door to something else even better than the one before.
The good news is that I have the support of an entire city full of friends, fans, lovers, and haters that want to see this school happen too. Now if only buildings were bought based on that...I'd be all set!
Ok, enough of that. How about the good news...
The good news is that I should have my car paid off soon. That will allow me to cross off goal #3 of the first post of the first entry of this blog which was started in February.
The good news is that in addition to gigging like a mad woman in New Orleans, I have also picked up teaching class on the Northshore which starts later this month. Lots of opportunity over on that side of the pond. Very exciting. This also means the my Monday night stripping adventures will be less since the class will be on Mondays. I recently had switched clubs but quite honestly, was feeling so burnt out. I need a break for a little while before jumping back into the shark tank. Football season is here though...I hear that's a good time to be swinging around that pole. We shall see. The last time I worked, a girl with a smelly crotch and very low self esteem was looking to me for validity by offering me money to go home with her and sleep with her and her un-boyfriend. I didn't go. I know...crazy right? (That's sarcasm, in case you couldn't tell.) That was enough to drive me into a stripper hide out for the time being.
The good news is that I have picked up 2 domme clients that pay well enough to help me get my car almost paid off as well as basic needs for functioning like groceries and electricity.
The good news is that this school WILL happen. I don't know when. And I don't even know exactly how yet. But, I do know that the universe has been good to me so far and regardless of the few hiccups (and bad moods) that come along the way, things always manage to come along at the right time. It's always amazing when it does and it always opens a door to something else even better than the one before.
The good news is that I have the support of an entire city full of friends, fans, lovers, and haters that want to see this school happen too. Now if only buildings were bought based on that...I'd be all set!
Friday, July 8, 2011
So yeah. This is hard.
Since I have decided to pursue this dream, it has honestly been one of the hardest things I've probably ever taken on. Saving money is no easy task. And not because I blow it on random shit, but just because of the sheer fact that bills need to be paid and I have 2 people to support as well. Things come up of course, as usual. And there are the set backs left and right.
It's summer. New Orleans slows down to a snail's pace in the summer. You see people walking through the Quarter, slowly, just to keep themselves at a level of dampness that is tolerable as opposed to full on sweating like a farm animal. People drive slower. Nothing opens on time. Some business don't even open for the summer because it's so slow.
Stripping in the slow season is a whole other animal. I'm naturally a sweaty girl and when I dance, I sweat. Mix that with dry humping another human, that makes for even more body heat. You get the picture. It's hard enough to maintain an acceptable odor much less adding the humidity and heat of a typical New Orleans summer. Just doing the short 3 block walk makes my butt cheeks sweat. Wednesdays have been pretty dead the last few times I have worked. I think that I'm going to do a switch and work Mondays. Working for 8 hours and coming home with enough money to pay the babysitter and a few cups of coffee for the next 2 days is pretty draining. And you certainly can't get blood from a rock...if there are no customers, then there's no money.
I've certainly had the wind taken out of my sails a few times and I know that I need to make a change before I get too bitter about it. 3 weeks ago I got cut-throated (that means a girl takes your customer and makes the money) on a $6000 room which would have paid me $2000. It was all I could do not to leave that night and just quit all together. I totally had a "woe is me moment," cried, took some deep breaths, and decided to just stick it out. I worked till 6am and ended up having a pretty decent night and having a really nice customer. It's so hard sometimes though when things like that happen.
So, Mondays will be my new weeknight. I don't typically work weekends because I usually have burlesque gigs. It obviously would make more sense to work weekends (and I do when I don't have anything booked), but I am not aiming towards being a career stripper. My burlesque takes precedent and after all, the whole reason I am even stripping is to fund my burlesque dream. Last time I worked on a Monday, I made a little over $800....
Maybe Mondays aren't a bitch after all. I'll let you know.
It's summer. New Orleans slows down to a snail's pace in the summer. You see people walking through the Quarter, slowly, just to keep themselves at a level of dampness that is tolerable as opposed to full on sweating like a farm animal. People drive slower. Nothing opens on time. Some business don't even open for the summer because it's so slow.
Stripping in the slow season is a whole other animal. I'm naturally a sweaty girl and when I dance, I sweat. Mix that with dry humping another human, that makes for even more body heat. You get the picture. It's hard enough to maintain an acceptable odor much less adding the humidity and heat of a typical New Orleans summer. Just doing the short 3 block walk makes my butt cheeks sweat. Wednesdays have been pretty dead the last few times I have worked. I think that I'm going to do a switch and work Mondays. Working for 8 hours and coming home with enough money to pay the babysitter and a few cups of coffee for the next 2 days is pretty draining. And you certainly can't get blood from a rock...if there are no customers, then there's no money.
I've certainly had the wind taken out of my sails a few times and I know that I need to make a change before I get too bitter about it. 3 weeks ago I got cut-throated (that means a girl takes your customer and makes the money) on a $6000 room which would have paid me $2000. It was all I could do not to leave that night and just quit all together. I totally had a "woe is me moment," cried, took some deep breaths, and decided to just stick it out. I worked till 6am and ended up having a pretty decent night and having a really nice customer. It's so hard sometimes though when things like that happen.
So, Mondays will be my new weeknight. I don't typically work weekends because I usually have burlesque gigs. It obviously would make more sense to work weekends (and I do when I don't have anything booked), but I am not aiming towards being a career stripper. My burlesque takes precedent and after all, the whole reason I am even stripping is to fund my burlesque dream. Last time I worked on a Monday, I made a little over $800....
Maybe Mondays aren't a bitch after all. I'll let you know.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
The Different Degrees of Movement
There's lots of movement going on in this world right now. It's been a long time since I have blogged anything because I've been pretty busy and honestly, there hasn't been anything earth shattering enough going on to give me enough fuel to pump out a somewhat decent piece of writing that you would maybe want to read. Since I last wrote, we have moved again. We are in the Treme--which I am super happy about. It's really nice being downtown. So close to all of my friends and to the French Quarter where I do the majority of my work. My amazing boyfriend was kind enough to rent us one of his properties so we are well taken care of here. I'm really counting on this to be our last move until I would ideally purchase the building for the school. It's not a huge place but the kids have their own rooms, the water gets really hot for baths, and it's a place we can hunker down for a while. We've moved 3 times in less than a year and that's way too much. But we're definitely one move closer to eventual goal.
I haven't worked in the club much lately but I did work last week and had a pretty mediocre night. I was in a good head space to make some money and did ok on stage but people weren't really buying dances or rooms so much. I thought that it would be pretty busy with it being Jazz Fest but, I think that that's where all the people were. For the first time ever, some people that I would rather have not run into at the club ended up there. A group of my ex's friends showed up and recognized me immediately of course. One of them was even calling me by my real name when he would see me. I'm sure it as much a novelty for them to see me there as much as it was a pain in the ass for me to see them there. I'm also sure my ex was bombarded with text messages and is now very certain that I strip where as before, I think he just assumed. We have a "don't ask, don't tell" policy.
The word is spreading about the school, about what I do, and what it's doing for other people. It makes me happy. I want to be successful at this more than anything and I know that there are good things coming down the pipeline...until then I'll just keep moving.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Dust
I woke up on Ash Wednesday at 7:30am by to a text message from my landlord saying :
"Some guys may be coming by tomorrow to do some measurements to install some insulation. Is that ok with you?"
Of course, I say "Sure. Thanks for the head's up" for 2 reasons:
1)I don't speak contractor speak and don't fully understand what's about to go down. My landlord has made it sound like it's a piece of cake, rather than the nightmare that is about to unfold.
2)My contractor boyfriend had left and gone to the coffee shop and was not there to tell me that I should tell this guy to go fuck himself.
The next text message I receive says:
"Well, they may come by today and get started if they can."
A half hour later my landlord shows up with 8 construction workers and unleashes them on my house with no for warning or time for me to prepare. For 5 days, I couldn't stay in my house, ALL of my things had been rearranged and moved outside in the side alleyway for them to be able to do their work, and EVERYTHING I own is covered in a layer of sheetrock dust. The shit doesn't ever go away. It's awful. I am also missing a bag of costumes (I think someone is dancing around in my very expensive Spanish Harlet dress and wearing my thigh highs. And it's probably a dude) and a litter box. WTF, over.
It was more stress than I had anticipated but, as usual, I am always looking for the upside of things and the good news is that I can move out. I never did like this apartment and the rent is too high. My lease is for a year but since my landlord was such a douche about this whole situation, he doesn't know it yet, but I will be moving out. I figure it's a great time to just go ahead and get an apartment down in the neighborhood where I want to buy the building and start getting the lay of the land, getting to know the neighbors and neighborhood, and just start getting a presence down there. It's been a little harder for me to find a place than I thought it would be. There's still some real dodgy areas down there and I'm not totally familiar with everything so I am being really careful not to end up living next to some run down crack house buildings that were projects at one time. That would be great.
Slowly but surely, I'm spoonfeeding the city of New Orleans exactly what I want The New Orleans School of Burlesque to encompass. I just had Jo Boobs and Jonny Porkpie (www.schoolofburlesque.com) in town from New York. I set up some workshops for them and they did their show as well. It was a great turnout. I am really, really trying to set a precedent here and make New Orleans a place where burlesque performers from other places can come and WANT to come. I got an email from Bunny Love (www.bunnyloveburlesque.com), who is originally from New Orleans, and she will be coming here for Jazz Fest. It was very exciting to hear from her and that she deemed me as a "go to" person for getting gigs, networking, and setting up a workshop for her to teach. This is what I am going for...and it's all happening. Making these performers available to us down here and making this a destination performance spot just like NYC, St. Louis, LA, and all the other major players in the burlesque world.
I'm happy. I'm working harder than I've ever worked in my life. And I've got so much to do...and I intend on doing it.
"Some guys may be coming by tomorrow to do some measurements to install some insulation. Is that ok with you?"
Of course, I say "Sure. Thanks for the head's up" for 2 reasons:
1)I don't speak contractor speak and don't fully understand what's about to go down. My landlord has made it sound like it's a piece of cake, rather than the nightmare that is about to unfold.
2)My contractor boyfriend had left and gone to the coffee shop and was not there to tell me that I should tell this guy to go fuck himself.
The next text message I receive says:
"Well, they may come by today and get started if they can."
A half hour later my landlord shows up with 8 construction workers and unleashes them on my house with no for warning or time for me to prepare. For 5 days, I couldn't stay in my house, ALL of my things had been rearranged and moved outside in the side alleyway for them to be able to do their work, and EVERYTHING I own is covered in a layer of sheetrock dust. The shit doesn't ever go away. It's awful. I am also missing a bag of costumes (I think someone is dancing around in my very expensive Spanish Harlet dress and wearing my thigh highs. And it's probably a dude) and a litter box. WTF, over.
It was more stress than I had anticipated but, as usual, I am always looking for the upside of things and the good news is that I can move out. I never did like this apartment and the rent is too high. My lease is for a year but since my landlord was such a douche about this whole situation, he doesn't know it yet, but I will be moving out. I figure it's a great time to just go ahead and get an apartment down in the neighborhood where I want to buy the building and start getting the lay of the land, getting to know the neighbors and neighborhood, and just start getting a presence down there. It's been a little harder for me to find a place than I thought it would be. There's still some real dodgy areas down there and I'm not totally familiar with everything so I am being really careful not to end up living next to some run down crack house buildings that were projects at one time. That would be great.
Slowly but surely, I'm spoonfeeding the city of New Orleans exactly what I want The New Orleans School of Burlesque to encompass. I just had Jo Boobs and Jonny Porkpie (www.schoolofburlesque.com) in town from New York. I set up some workshops for them and they did their show as well. It was a great turnout. I am really, really trying to set a precedent here and make New Orleans a place where burlesque performers from other places can come and WANT to come. I got an email from Bunny Love (www.bunnyloveburlesque.com), who is originally from New Orleans, and she will be coming here for Jazz Fest. It was very exciting to hear from her and that she deemed me as a "go to" person for getting gigs, networking, and setting up a workshop for her to teach. This is what I am going for...and it's all happening. Making these performers available to us down here and making this a destination performance spot just like NYC, St. Louis, LA, and all the other major players in the burlesque world.
I'm happy. I'm working harder than I've ever worked in my life. And I've got so much to do...and I intend on doing it.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Lap dances, Mardi Gras, and the art of making money
I drive around the Bywater daily looking at buildings to hopefully purchase. I saw one the other day on Piety. Kind of in the dodgy section but not totally...still close enough to where everything is building up. It's really amazing to be down there and see all the work in progress. The building is selling for a pretty reasonable price and has a 2 bedroom apartment upstairs. The agent said that the owner would be willing to owner finance possibly with a rather large sum of money down as a down payment--ya know, only $30,000 or so (no problem-o. Just hand me my purse real quick...). It's beyond me that people are able to create that kind of money for themselves but, clearly they must because people buy houses everyday. So, that means I can too. And the lap dances continue....
Over Mardi Gras I had quite a few gigs. One of which was a repeat of last year and is a private party for a group of gentlemen who ride in a parade and rent out the upstairs balcony of a Bourbon Street daiquiri shop. Last year I walked away with nearly $900. Up to that point, I had never walked away from any stripping gig with that much money. This year was a little different. There were less guys, for starters. There was a up and downside to this. The down being the obvious one--less guys equals less money. Basically we give lap dance after lap dance after lap dance at $20 each. The upside is that there were a few girls there who were not really hustling which was good for me because it gave me a chance to work on the hustle capabilities that I do not necessarily have. I got to use these guys as a test drive to figure out what a guy is really looking for in a lap dance (besides the one skeavy one who wanted to put his hand in my g string). What I learned and finally understand is this: Men go to strip clubs to get what they aren't getting at home or anywhere else. Whether it be beauty, a hug, a whisper in the ear, conversation, or just someone hovering over his genitals. I had always heard these things, but never really understood it. And that day made me really grasp that. I felt bad a little and the mother in me wanted to coddle them. Hug them tighter. And it honestly allowed me to really get into character and give these men the attention that they were so deprived of. To feel a grown man sink into the space between your ear and your neck because he's just so happy that you are giving him some contact, it honestly actually feels kind of nice to give someone something they need and it might be one of the only things that is going to allow me to survive this whole experience.
Along with my new found understanding, I also ordered a pole to put up in my house so I can start working on some more pole tricks. And I've decided to try incorporating the femme domme in me into my stripper persona.
I walked away from that gig with less money than I had made last year but with a lot more confidence and a better understanding of what I need to do in this business to make the money I need and get the studio bought and up and running. $30,000....that's a lot of lap dances. Bring it on.
Over Mardi Gras I had quite a few gigs. One of which was a repeat of last year and is a private party for a group of gentlemen who ride in a parade and rent out the upstairs balcony of a Bourbon Street daiquiri shop. Last year I walked away with nearly $900. Up to that point, I had never walked away from any stripping gig with that much money. This year was a little different. There were less guys, for starters. There was a up and downside to this. The down being the obvious one--less guys equals less money. Basically we give lap dance after lap dance after lap dance at $20 each. The upside is that there were a few girls there who were not really hustling which was good for me because it gave me a chance to work on the hustle capabilities that I do not necessarily have. I got to use these guys as a test drive to figure out what a guy is really looking for in a lap dance (besides the one skeavy one who wanted to put his hand in my g string). What I learned and finally understand is this: Men go to strip clubs to get what they aren't getting at home or anywhere else. Whether it be beauty, a hug, a whisper in the ear, conversation, or just someone hovering over his genitals. I had always heard these things, but never really understood it. And that day made me really grasp that. I felt bad a little and the mother in me wanted to coddle them. Hug them tighter. And it honestly allowed me to really get into character and give these men the attention that they were so deprived of. To feel a grown man sink into the space between your ear and your neck because he's just so happy that you are giving him some contact, it honestly actually feels kind of nice to give someone something they need and it might be one of the only things that is going to allow me to survive this whole experience.
Along with my new found understanding, I also ordered a pole to put up in my house so I can start working on some more pole tricks. And I've decided to try incorporating the femme domme in me into my stripper persona.
I walked away from that gig with less money than I had made last year but with a lot more confidence and a better understanding of what I need to do in this business to make the money I need and get the studio bought and up and running. $30,000....that's a lot of lap dances. Bring it on.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Where I Fit In.
Working in a strip club feels like being back in high school in some ways. Just more titties. But other than that little detail, yeah, it's a lot like high school. I have had a hard time finding my place in the stripper world and where I really fit in. In every club, there's always a rank and you kind of have to prove yourself as a worthy dancer to be able to even have a conversation with most of them. I've never looked at it as a place to make friends, a place I wanted to spend a lot of time in, or a place where I needed to fit in. But, for the time being, I need to fit in somewhere so I can make the most money and get the studio up and running.
Strip Club #1: When I started doing this about 3 years ago, I started at Rick's Cabaret. Not really for any other reason than because it's the only one I had ever been in, I had a few friends that worked there, and for whatever reason, I associated that club with money. It seemed prestigious and high class. The winding staircase in the lobby, no pole on stage (so you actually had to dance), a piano was topped with plexiglass and that was the satellite stage...everything about it just screamed high class. There was a huge locker room upstairs with lighted mirrors, a old stand up tanning bed, weight machines, and even a a drag queen available to do your hair and makeup for a nominal fee. Private lap dances started at $60. House fees were really expensive. I mean, everything about this club was expensive. So, I figured that it must mean that I am expensive too--even in all of my inexperience. I tried to incorporate some of my burlesque into my sets but I quickly learned that people aren't coming to a strip club for a show. Although--I have to say that with the old timers, it was a hit. I had a geriatric once pay me $600 to sit next time him while he put his hand in the top of my panties and I pretended that I liked it. He was so drunk that even if he had gotten remotely close to my naughty bits, he wouldn't have known it.
I started to go in during the day and I had a regular who would hire me to just gogo dance for him. I didn't even have to take my top off. He would buy me lunch and just buy dance after dance. He had PTSD and would tell me war stories and show me his lighter collection. I see him from time to time but I don't think he remembers who I am.
Strip Club #2: I used to work at the Ritz Carlton as a cocktail waitress on Tuesday nights. It was the only night I worked and it was pretty easy. I would make some good tips and was out of there no later than 1am. One of my very good friends would take me to Barely Legal for 2 for 1 drinks. He had made some friends with some of the dancers and felt pretty comfortable there. On my first visit, I was completely amazed. These girls were doing pole tricks like nothing I had ever seen in my life and I was floored. To me, they were super heroes. After a few weekly visits, I too became friendly with the dancers and after some encouragement, they talked me into going to dance there. I "auditioned" and made it (phew. Wipes proverbial sweat off brow). I didn't know a lick of a pole trick. I was wobbly for sure. I took a few private lessons just to learn a few to get by and actually did pretty decent when I would work at that club. They sell 2 for 1 lap dances which is always cued by a bright blue spinning light in the ceiling of the club and the DJ plays "Girls, Girls, Girls." I could probably go the rest of my life without ever hearing that song again. All in all, I like this club. The house fee is a little high--but I make money. The girls are nice. And it makes me feel barely legal when I am the furthest thing from it.
Strip Club #3: Right after I had started my stint at BL, I was then encouraged to go try out another club by a guest I had met while working at the Ritz one night. We became friends as I served him martinis. He was a lawyer from New York. He had 2 kids and was going through a nasty divorce. I was in a dead end relationship with a guy who probably could have cared less if I ever came home or not on most nights and if I did come home, he was happy because it meant his laundry was going to get done. The lawyer would come in town every few weeks and come see me at the bar and we would talk about life, our relationships, writing, food, and pretty much anything. He ended up finding me online and we became "friends" there too. After a while, I told him that I sometimes strip and if he was ever interested in coming to see me, that I would let him know. This is when he suggested that I maybe try going over to Penthouse because that's where him and his work friends usually go. I also had a really good friend at the time that worked there and knew a lot of the girls from the burlesque community that danced there. I ended up only going there when he was in town. And I didn't have to work. He made it easy for me. We would go up to the 3rd floor for hours and continue our talks about life and relationships only during these talks, I was topless. I would make him get dances because after all, that's what he was paying me for. He has since got a girlfriend but we are still very good friends.
I went back to Penthouse and bombed miserably. It further reiterated that I am not a good stripper--but, I am a good stunt pony. So I need to go where good stunt ponies make good money. And based on what I have learned so far, good stunt ponies make decent money at Barely Legal. Well, at least this one does. I will go back there on Tuesday night and try again. I think this is where I fit in. I have a few more pole tricks up my sleeve to try this time, I will have regained my smug teenager-like confidence, and me getting the studio open will be one step closer.
Moving right along....
Strip Club #1: When I started doing this about 3 years ago, I started at Rick's Cabaret. Not really for any other reason than because it's the only one I had ever been in, I had a few friends that worked there, and for whatever reason, I associated that club with money. It seemed prestigious and high class. The winding staircase in the lobby, no pole on stage (so you actually had to dance), a piano was topped with plexiglass and that was the satellite stage...everything about it just screamed high class. There was a huge locker room upstairs with lighted mirrors, a old stand up tanning bed, weight machines, and even a a drag queen available to do your hair and makeup for a nominal fee. Private lap dances started at $60. House fees were really expensive. I mean, everything about this club was expensive. So, I figured that it must mean that I am expensive too--even in all of my inexperience. I tried to incorporate some of my burlesque into my sets but I quickly learned that people aren't coming to a strip club for a show. Although--I have to say that with the old timers, it was a hit. I had a geriatric once pay me $600 to sit next time him while he put his hand in the top of my panties and I pretended that I liked it. He was so drunk that even if he had gotten remotely close to my naughty bits, he wouldn't have known it.
I started to go in during the day and I had a regular who would hire me to just gogo dance for him. I didn't even have to take my top off. He would buy me lunch and just buy dance after dance. He had PTSD and would tell me war stories and show me his lighter collection. I see him from time to time but I don't think he remembers who I am.
Strip Club #2: I used to work at the Ritz Carlton as a cocktail waitress on Tuesday nights. It was the only night I worked and it was pretty easy. I would make some good tips and was out of there no later than 1am. One of my very good friends would take me to Barely Legal for 2 for 1 drinks. He had made some friends with some of the dancers and felt pretty comfortable there. On my first visit, I was completely amazed. These girls were doing pole tricks like nothing I had ever seen in my life and I was floored. To me, they were super heroes. After a few weekly visits, I too became friendly with the dancers and after some encouragement, they talked me into going to dance there. I "auditioned" and made it (phew. Wipes proverbial sweat off brow). I didn't know a lick of a pole trick. I was wobbly for sure. I took a few private lessons just to learn a few to get by and actually did pretty decent when I would work at that club. They sell 2 for 1 lap dances which is always cued by a bright blue spinning light in the ceiling of the club and the DJ plays "Girls, Girls, Girls." I could probably go the rest of my life without ever hearing that song again. All in all, I like this club. The house fee is a little high--but I make money. The girls are nice. And it makes me feel barely legal when I am the furthest thing from it.
Strip Club #3: Right after I had started my stint at BL, I was then encouraged to go try out another club by a guest I had met while working at the Ritz one night. We became friends as I served him martinis. He was a lawyer from New York. He had 2 kids and was going through a nasty divorce. I was in a dead end relationship with a guy who probably could have cared less if I ever came home or not on most nights and if I did come home, he was happy because it meant his laundry was going to get done. The lawyer would come in town every few weeks and come see me at the bar and we would talk about life, our relationships, writing, food, and pretty much anything. He ended up finding me online and we became "friends" there too. After a while, I told him that I sometimes strip and if he was ever interested in coming to see me, that I would let him know. This is when he suggested that I maybe try going over to Penthouse because that's where him and his work friends usually go. I also had a really good friend at the time that worked there and knew a lot of the girls from the burlesque community that danced there. I ended up only going there when he was in town. And I didn't have to work. He made it easy for me. We would go up to the 3rd floor for hours and continue our talks about life and relationships only during these talks, I was topless. I would make him get dances because after all, that's what he was paying me for. He has since got a girlfriend but we are still very good friends.
I went back to Penthouse and bombed miserably. It further reiterated that I am not a good stripper--but, I am a good stunt pony. So I need to go where good stunt ponies make good money. And based on what I have learned so far, good stunt ponies make decent money at Barely Legal. Well, at least this one does. I will go back there on Tuesday night and try again. I think this is where I fit in. I have a few more pole tricks up my sleeve to try this time, I will have regained my smug teenager-like confidence, and me getting the studio open will be one step closer.
Moving right along....
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