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August 12, 2013

I had a plan for this post. I really did.

I don’t remember what it was supposed to be anymore because I’m rather angry at the entire strip club industry. Pissed off in fact. So fucking pissed.

It’s been a long, long week. Rude and offensive seemed to be the theme.

I started a new club in a different town. We’ll call the club Marionettes. This club is about an hour away from where I live. Why would I go there? Well why not. Branch out a bit learn new clubs and learn new tricks. Plus this club paid me 50 bucks to show up a night. That covers more than my gas so even if it’s a complete dead night I don’t loose anything.

Turns out it was great. The bar is exceptionally small. Town law states that the bar cannot have a designated area for lap dances so all money is earned on stage. I’m not going to lie, when I first saw the bar I was nervous. But I drove all that way so I was going to stick it out and work the night.

Damn! I might only really be paid in tips but fuck, these men are willing to tip. Due to the size of the bar only myself and one other girl were working. We did half hour stage set rotations all night and damn I did well. We both did. So I decided to come back the next day. Why not right? So I get to the club Friday. That night three girls were scheduled which, as it’s a weekend makes sense.

Over all it was a great night but not everything’s perfect.

I’ve already written about body images and the industry. Before I tell this story I’ll remind you of how I personally look. I’m 5’ 1’’, 130lbs, size 4. I’m not a big girl. Most describe me as a midget or just plain tiny. I’m comfortable with my body. The guy I’m sleeping with is particularly fond of it. Well I’m on stage and it’s early. Only one older, over weight man sat at the tip rail and he constantly tipped a five or a few bucks at a time. I’m thinking he’s a nice guy. Well I’m lying on the stage legs in the air and jiggling my ass for him and all of a sudden I hear this:

“You got a bit right there.” (reaches over and pats my stomach) “Do you have anything growing in there?”

So not what mine looks like but what he thought it looked like

So not what mine looks like but what he thought it looked like

THE FUCK? I stop and I just stare at him in shock. Pure shock. But wait it gets better.

“You know guys my age like a girl who has a little extra but if you want a man your age you might need to lose that bit around your middle.”

By all the stripper gods in the heavens I prayed I had a momentary hallucination of some sort because THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED???????

At this point I’m debating on whether or not I’m going to slap the guy. And trust me that sounded tempting. However I see on the tip rail he has a twenty sitting under some smaller bills. I grab that and put it on stage next to me. The guy looks shocked so I say:

“That was outrageously rude to say. What the hell were you thinking? I have a very healthy body and am very comfortable with it. You had no right to say that and quite frankly I cant believe you did. Now that I just took was the start of your apology, keep it coming preferably with President Jackson, not Washington.” (For my non-USA readers Andrew Jackson is the president on the 20 dollar bill and Washington is on the 1 dollar bill.) I made 90 bucks off the fucker that stage set.

The night went on and was an enjoyable night over all. A few bachelor parties came in and they were a hoot and a half. I had one small problem with a different old guy trying to get grabby grabby but I sorted that out quickly and forgot about it. I went home with a full purse and a sore body from learning a new pole trick and shaking my ass off.

Saturday comes around and I’m back at BabyDolls. Now I will say this. 99% of my customers Saturday night were amazing. Two however pissed me off.

Enter Ass-hole 1. L.A. duche (LAD). Please note I live nowhere near California, he’s visiting friends. Lets set the stage. First him and his friends come to the tip rail during my song. They tip, I dance we chat a bit. L.A.D. does the whole “you ever thought of modeling or films?”

Ok maybe I'd play a role in this porno, captive maybe?

Ok maybe I’d play a role in this porno, captive maybe?

Me: “No not really interested to be honest. I’ll probably just stick with dancing.”

LAD: “Yeah but you never know when opportunities come along. You know you don’t even have to look for them, sometimes they come to you.”

Me playing along hoping I get his money: “You’re right, you never know.”

Fast forward. I’m on stage again and L.A.D comes up to my stage set again and tosses two bucks down. Now I don’t do a whole lot for two bucks. I usually have a there has to be at least five bucks on stage before I take my top off guideline. So I jiggle my ass a bit and do some tricks with my legs.

LAD: “So what’s your name?”

I thought he just forgot my stage name so me: “Delilah.”

LAD: “No I mean what’s your real name.”

My typical response “Does it matter?”

LAD: “Well, yeah it does. I was gonna talk to you like a real person but if you want me to talk to you like a stripper I can talk to you like a stripper. I was just offering you respect.”

Excuse me? THE FUCK? Is he aware of how offensive and rude he just was? I mean really, what the fuck? Because I have a stage name I’m now not a real person? THE FUCK?

Me: I use a stage name because I like my privacy. What you just said was extremely rude and offensive. I’m not a different person while I’m at work, I’m just me in sluttier cloths.” (glance back and the now offensive two bucks he tossed me) “You cant say things like that especially for only two bucks now apologize or get off my stage.”

He left. Night goes on and I make money. Right as I was about to go get dressed I approach a man for one last try to get a few more lap dances before the nights end. Here’s how that convo went.

Me: “Hey last call for a lap dance, I’m about to get ready to head out.”

Him: “Where you headed to girl.”

Me: “Home.”

Him: “You going with your man? Where your man at girl?”

Me: “I don’t have a man, don’t got the time, don’t got the patience.”

Him: “Girl you need a man, you need a sponsor, you looking for a sponsor?”

THE FUCK? To quick explain, I have now just been asked if I’m looking for a pimp. I tell him in no uncertain terms that I do not have any extracurricular activities and go get dressed. Now Saturday was my third day working in a row. At that point I’m tired, I’m sore and I got a bruise the size of a golf ball on my hip from learning a new pole trick. Lets catch up with today, Sunday.

Someone explain to me where the hell outfit style thing came from? I've never seen a pimp dress like this.

Someone explain to me where the hell outfit style thing came from? I’ve never seen a pimp dress like this.

I text the manager of the Weeping Jewel to see if I can book any days. I’m told that he won’t book me now but if I loose a bit of weight he’d gladly book me 2-3 days a week.

Ok what the hell, in three days I’ve been called fat twice, been disrespected, rudely groaped and asked if I want a pimp. What the fuck. What in the actual fuck. See this is the reason I sometimes hate my job. When customers or managers can turn a fun and challenging job into something I dread. That pisses me off. I don’t come to your work place to piss all over what you do, don’t come to mine.

Now I’m at my parents place taking a break for a few days to see my family. Sadly as I only got here a few hours ago my mood has yet to improve. To add the icing on the cake I bought myself a new vibrator the other day and haven’t had a chance to use it. I planned on posting this and getting down to some tension release. Guess who forgot to get batteries.

*Raising hand here*

Fuck this shit. I’m going to bed and hopefully taking out my aggression in my dreams. Wish me luck.


From → Body Stuff

  1. kiara8921 permalink

    WOW that is a bad week at work. I think you have the right idea moving around to so many different clubs, not just for YOU to stay fresh, but so that you don’t have to deal with each club’s asshole regulars/owners every night.
    Every job has it’s really bad aspects, but working as you do, yours really affect you personally. When i get insulted (usually about selection of waiting time) i walk out the door at the end of the day and don’t give a fuck, but being personally insulted really has to hang over you.

    Try to relax a little, steal some batteries out of something in your parents house!
    And remember these are guys that come to watch women strip that are insulting you, not your friends and family or even half way decent raised with manners strangers.

    • I actually went to visit the guy I’m sleeping with while he was out of town this weekend. It was exactly what I needed after last weeks fiasco.

      Most of the time I can sluff off the comments but when a bunch it you at once it sucks. Oh well. To use your words generally I only keep half way decent raised with manners people in my life. Thank goodness.

  2. emeraldjewelsparkle permalink

    At the end of the day you know who you are, your comfortable with yourself and with what you do. Those men have delusional attitudes and expectations and clearly have major issues. I wish i could give you a big hug xx

    • I send you equally big hugs. Men are stupid. I dont know why I’m sleeping with one… oh yeah…. that’s why.

      Most men are stupid. Lol.

      I hug you back over the internet!

  3. wishuy permalink

    What a shit of a week. Yours definately won hands down by my crappy week. In comparison I have dickhead junior doctors telling me what is best for my profoundly disabled, fragile sickly child who have only known him for a matter of days (thank God his ‘real’ doctor came back on), yet I can beat their experience by fifteen years, but because I didn’t go to medical school and have a bit of paper stating that, they think they know best. But all ended well when I put in a formal complaint (which I have never ever done before in the fifteen years my son has in hospital (on average usually at least 200+ days each year), so they knew I was pissed). I don’t believe I will have anymore problems again. Anyway I’m enjoying reading your blog and hope you have a better week ahead. (Buy batteries by the box, that’s what I do cause I’m not a happy camper if my batteries run out (although the hubby is probably happy sometimes….just saying)..

    • I’ve worked in the mental health field and I can’t imagine what you as a parent go though each day. You have all of my respect. Some doctors need to be reminded that their fancy degree does not make them god and it might be a good idea to pull their head out of their ass before someone kicks it further in.

      My week was much better. I went to visit the man I’m sleeping with while he was out of town. So not only did I get away but I got to relax w/ and w/o battery operated help 😉

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