1. Girls pay the club to work there. The club does everything they can to keep the cash flow circulating through the club. For example, I'm required to tip out the bar even though they make their own money, the dj and house mom because they work off tips alone (so I don't mind at all because they work for me and actually help me out), and spend ridiculous cash on exorbitantly priced outfits from a lady who pays the club for the privilege of selling exorbitantly priced outfits. When you tip a stripper, you're actually feeding a huge strip monster and putting a dollar in many different peoples' pockets. Do you tip the valet more than 5 bucks? We do. So rest assured you're more than likely not supplying a drug habit with the petty dollars you so kindly place on stage, but supplying your favorite chica with a generous tip out for her co workers.
2. You may not want to be bothered (cuz it's so much more fun to crouch under a baseball cap and ogle titties from the bar), but the girls don't eat unless they hustle. God forbid we presume the patrons of a STRIP CLUB want us to TALK to them. How outrageous of us! I pretty much assume all of those at the bar as well as those on their phone are creeps who justify their dirty habit by ignoring the pieces of ass they came to see and chatting up the only male employees in the place. Lame. Creeps. Go to the stage! Get a dance! Participate for goodness sake, you're there, aren't you?
3. We are people too. Have fun, but have respect!
Wowza somehow it's 5 am! More later...
Mwazies!:-*
Friday, May 28, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
And So; an Introduction
For my limitless readers ((i.e. 0))
I started this blog today because before all else I am a writer. I've kept a journal since I could write ((4 years of age)), and my first blog helped me retain my sanity for a certain period of obsession ((it wasn't a pro-whatever blog per se, more like a body image blog. Since becoming a dancer, I've spent much time in front of the mirror slash working my butt off literally and have a bit more of an accurate self-image of my body, so my old obsession is no longer valid.)).
Also, I've reached that point in my stripping career where I'd like to seperate the fantasy from my reality to the fullest extent. The only problem is I spend A LOT of time working, especially since lately work has sucked so even to just get by I'm at the club five days a week. Since I work so much in an industry that attracts many extreme characters, I have a lot of stories from that part of my life that I must relate to SOMEONE lest my brain implodes from overstimulation ((don't ask me how that makes sense because I've just gotten home from work and I don't even fully understand...))
For example, today I waltzed into the club around 11:45 pm ((it's Mother's Day, so even though I was scheduled for seven and wanted to come in closer to four when I slept until 8:30 I said fuck it I'll take my sweet time as there are no house fees to pay on holidays)), got ready and was on the floor by 12:45 am, and didn't make anything until 1:35 am when $80 changed into my hands. Not bad for an hour's work, except that the circumstances were extremely frustrating.
At my first stage there was a super fun black ((like with the baggy pants and backwards hat and everything)) tipping well, and he asked me to take him upstairs as he was from Atlanta and couldn't handle the extreme lameness of the merely topless downstairs stages. Thinking he meant for a dance ((there's a nude stage in front of the private dancing area, both of which require a cover charge wrist band thing for $5)) I happily led the way. Well, actually, I spent ten minutes looking for my booty shorts as I had somehow flung them ten feet across - and off - the opposite side of the stage I was dancing on. Once I was sure the kids at the end of the bar hadn't taken them for kicks, retrieved them and was fully clothed ((kinda)), I happily led the way.
This loser goes up and sits at the nude stage, leaning back and smiling as if I should be ecstatic to dance for dollars. The gangster can't fork up $30, shock of the century. Luckily for him I was in a good mood and I had just gotten there so I didn't mind warming up for ten bucks. I needed some cash to tip out with anyhow.
After he got boring ((a.k.a. started doing the whole "reach into my pocket as if I'm getting you money without actually pulling anything out" routine)) I smoked a rette and chatted with the bouncer before deciding to try to talk to at least one person. I walked down the stairs, and BAM there's a group of four Asians sitting in the corner directly under the stairs, looking around dumbfounded as if the hand of God had personally dropped them there out of the blue.
Me: Hey guys, how's it going?
Fat Asian: Good.
Me: Yeah? Ya'll having a good time?
Short Asian: It's boring here! There are no people here!
Me: Well, I think maybe just because it's Mother's Day... maybe people would feel guilty checking out chicks when they should be with their moms.
SA: Oh, it's just your mudder [[totally how he said it]], not a big deal.
Me: Yeah...... Hey if you want I'll dance on that empty stage for you. It would be so fun, I promise [[big smile]]
SA: But it's out in the open and everyone watches you.
[[OK. You're in a club with other weirdos, Weirdo. No one cares.]]
Me: Well, we can go up to the nude stage, it's a bit more private.
FA: [[handing me $10 in ones]] Can't you just dance here? Give my friends a good time.
Me: Hell yeah!
I tried dancing on one of the spiky-haired ones, but he essentially said he didn't want any attention. Which totally made sense considering he was at a fucking gentleman's club. So I turned to the short one, who stuffed another five bucks in my booty shorts as I jiggled my ass with my hand. Then they wanted to me take my clothes off on the floor, once again showing of their lovely stupidity ((there are two bars on the main floor. Liqour = no nudity, and toplessness only on a platform of however many feet or higher)). I spent literally ten minutes trying to explain that they could come to the nude stage, have it be private, and I could take my top off, but they heard "upstairs" and thought "private dance", which many customers have trained themselves to deny, deny, deny.
So I went upstairs to hang out again and fuck the spoilsports [[not literally, thank God]] . Who comes up but the Short Asian? He explained that he already had a wristband, and though I expected him to take a seat at the nude stage like I had tried so hard to convince him and his friends to do, he instead took me to the back for two songs. Since he ((once again, displaying his stupidity)) wouldn't pay me when I asked him repeatedly for the $70 in the back, he paid my fee to the house (($5 a dance so $10 in this instance)) at the entrance to the private dance area before trying to turn away when I slammed him with the "Oh, you still owe me that $70, remember?"
"You girls, you're so good at taking my money. I'm leaving here with $20!"
"You know, last night I worked all night and actually LOST money, so I know how you feel."
"Oh whatever, like I believe you."
"I'm serious! I pay money to be here, you know. Sometimes I don't make that money back."
This is true. I told him my fees were $60 (("I'm leaving with twenty bucks too!)) which they are, technically. On weekend nights. Last night was free because of the holiday, and it's $50 on weeknights. I try to go early when I can so I pay less fees. Because fees suck and are stupid. Shouldn't the club be happy I'm working there at all, thus giving them a business and a way to sell ridiculously overpriced drinks and food? In England the girls have a salary and rarely get tipped. Then again they can't even look at people practically when they're on stage... So boring.
So last night was cool because I made money at all, and Saturday night sucked so bad I was re-thinking my current life plan. Then again I was at a different club, one which loves to hold events that people attend as opposed to running a frickin strip club. But that's another story....
In other news: I just checked my e mail and my mother sent me one ((I wish I had never given her mine. Can't I block her somehow?)) last night titled "Missed you on Mother's Day." There were two lines of text explaining how "[she] will always be [my] stand [[?]] to getting out of prostitution and drug abuse."
To me, that's another excellent show of stupidity or maybe in this case, ignorance. This is not the 80s, Mother dearest.
**Alice D
I started this blog today because before all else I am a writer. I've kept a journal since I could write ((4 years of age)), and my first blog helped me retain my sanity for a certain period of obsession ((it wasn't a pro-whatever blog per se, more like a body image blog. Since becoming a dancer, I've spent much time in front of the mirror slash working my butt off literally and have a bit more of an accurate self-image of my body, so my old obsession is no longer valid.)).
Also, I've reached that point in my stripping career where I'd like to seperate the fantasy from my reality to the fullest extent. The only problem is I spend A LOT of time working, especially since lately work has sucked so even to just get by I'm at the club five days a week. Since I work so much in an industry that attracts many extreme characters, I have a lot of stories from that part of my life that I must relate to SOMEONE lest my brain implodes from overstimulation ((don't ask me how that makes sense because I've just gotten home from work and I don't even fully understand...))
For example, today I waltzed into the club around 11:45 pm ((it's Mother's Day, so even though I was scheduled for seven and wanted to come in closer to four when I slept until 8:30 I said fuck it I'll take my sweet time as there are no house fees to pay on holidays)), got ready and was on the floor by 12:45 am, and didn't make anything until 1:35 am when $80 changed into my hands. Not bad for an hour's work, except that the circumstances were extremely frustrating.
At my first stage there was a super fun black ((like with the baggy pants and backwards hat and everything)) tipping well, and he asked me to take him upstairs as he was from Atlanta and couldn't handle the extreme lameness of the merely topless downstairs stages. Thinking he meant for a dance ((there's a nude stage in front of the private dancing area, both of which require a cover charge wrist band thing for $5)) I happily led the way. Well, actually, I spent ten minutes looking for my booty shorts as I had somehow flung them ten feet across - and off - the opposite side of the stage I was dancing on. Once I was sure the kids at the end of the bar hadn't taken them for kicks, retrieved them and was fully clothed ((kinda)), I happily led the way.
This loser goes up and sits at the nude stage, leaning back and smiling as if I should be ecstatic to dance for dollars. The gangster can't fork up $30, shock of the century. Luckily for him I was in a good mood and I had just gotten there so I didn't mind warming up for ten bucks. I needed some cash to tip out with anyhow.
After he got boring ((a.k.a. started doing the whole "reach into my pocket as if I'm getting you money without actually pulling anything out" routine)) I smoked a rette and chatted with the bouncer before deciding to try to talk to at least one person. I walked down the stairs, and BAM there's a group of four Asians sitting in the corner directly under the stairs, looking around dumbfounded as if the hand of God had personally dropped them there out of the blue.
Me: Hey guys, how's it going?
Fat Asian: Good.
Me: Yeah? Ya'll having a good time?
Short Asian: It's boring here! There are no people here!
Me: Well, I think maybe just because it's Mother's Day... maybe people would feel guilty checking out chicks when they should be with their moms.
SA: Oh, it's just your mudder [[totally how he said it]], not a big deal.
Me: Yeah...... Hey if you want I'll dance on that empty stage for you. It would be so fun, I promise [[big smile]]
SA: But it's out in the open and everyone watches you.
[[OK. You're in a club with other weirdos, Weirdo. No one cares.]]
Me: Well, we can go up to the nude stage, it's a bit more private.
FA: [[handing me $10 in ones]] Can't you just dance here? Give my friends a good time.
Me: Hell yeah!
I tried dancing on one of the spiky-haired ones, but he essentially said he didn't want any attention. Which totally made sense considering he was at a fucking gentleman's club. So I turned to the short one, who stuffed another five bucks in my booty shorts as I jiggled my ass with my hand. Then they wanted to me take my clothes off on the floor, once again showing of their lovely stupidity ((there are two bars on the main floor. Liqour = no nudity, and toplessness only on a platform of however many feet or higher)). I spent literally ten minutes trying to explain that they could come to the nude stage, have it be private, and I could take my top off, but they heard "upstairs" and thought "private dance", which many customers have trained themselves to deny, deny, deny.
So I went upstairs to hang out again and fuck the spoilsports [[not literally, thank God]] . Who comes up but the Short Asian? He explained that he already had a wristband, and though I expected him to take a seat at the nude stage like I had tried so hard to convince him and his friends to do, he instead took me to the back for two songs. Since he ((once again, displaying his stupidity)) wouldn't pay me when I asked him repeatedly for the $70 in the back, he paid my fee to the house (($5 a dance so $10 in this instance)) at the entrance to the private dance area before trying to turn away when I slammed him with the "Oh, you still owe me that $70, remember?"
"You girls, you're so good at taking my money. I'm leaving here with $20!"
"You know, last night I worked all night and actually LOST money, so I know how you feel."
"Oh whatever, like I believe you."
"I'm serious! I pay money to be here, you know. Sometimes I don't make that money back."
This is true. I told him my fees were $60 (("I'm leaving with twenty bucks too!)) which they are, technically. On weekend nights. Last night was free because of the holiday, and it's $50 on weeknights. I try to go early when I can so I pay less fees. Because fees suck and are stupid. Shouldn't the club be happy I'm working there at all, thus giving them a business and a way to sell ridiculously overpriced drinks and food? In England the girls have a salary and rarely get tipped. Then again they can't even look at people practically when they're on stage... So boring.
So last night was cool because I made money at all, and Saturday night sucked so bad I was re-thinking my current life plan. Then again I was at a different club, one which loves to hold events that people attend as opposed to running a frickin strip club. But that's another story....
In other news: I just checked my e mail and my mother sent me one ((I wish I had never given her mine. Can't I block her somehow?)) last night titled "Missed you on Mother's Day." There were two lines of text explaining how "[she] will always be [my] stand [[?]] to getting out of prostitution and drug abuse."
To me, that's another excellent show of stupidity or maybe in this case, ignorance. This is not the 80s, Mother dearest.
**Alice D
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