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The Skinny On The Pole

October 17, 2013

Dancing, stripping, is a job that can destroy a person. I’ve seen it a thousand fucking times. Girls start drinking too much; start doing drugs, start hooking any of those and it destroys them. The girls that make it, that do well make a killing and walk away from it all in the end are the girls that keep their heads screwed on straight. The ones that maybe have a couple of drinks during their shift because every now and then a drink is great. But they don’t get drunk, they don’t shoot up back in the dressing room and don’t give fifteen dollar blow jobs in an ally. It sounds like that would be simple to follow right? But its not. When you start out you think yep, I can do this, I got this- I’m going to keep my standards, I’m not going to lower them at all, I’m going to rock this and make some cash all while staying classy. But after your first month or two, after the novelty of being new wears off, the tips start slowing down. You go from making two hundred on a week night to making one fifty. You start to dress skimpier and skimpier, than some guy offers you ten bucks to take your top off while your off stage and you shake your tits around a bit. Little things like that. They can build up. Obviously the don’t always. I’ve taken my top off while off stage for cash but my point is that shit can snowball. I’ve seen it.

But It doesn’t have to be that way.

Fun yet beautiful pole trick that is easier to learn.

Fun yet beautiful pole trick that is easier to learn. 

Some nights the voices in my head get so damn loud I couldn’t think. I lay in bed thinking of every mistake I’ve ever made in life, everything I wish I had said to people at one time or another. It all runs though my head again and again. I have the tendency to over analyze things, we all have our vices. But sometimes when I have days like this I go to work. I climb on the stage, choose the music that fits my mood and I just dance. I don’t care about the crowd around me, I don’t care if they are tipping dollar bills or throwing tens. I pay them enough attention to keep them happy but in the end I just dance and for a time the voices shut the hell up and leave me alone. It’s a difficult feeling to explain. It’s like I get restless and the ebb and flow of the club settles me. The challenge of trying to read each customer to see if he (or she) would be the one to make my night big intoxicates me. It offers me a challenge out side the realms of the “real” world, in the club I hold the power.

I don’t mean voices like actual voices. Just to be clear.

Something about dancing calms me. Feeling the music enter my soul and move my body is the one drug I can’t quit.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fN5rGCeSdGo

Does anyone else ever feel like this?

Check out those two youtube video’s. They are amazing works of art.

 

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From → Who Knows What

2 Comments
  1. Awesome post. I know what you mean. Sometimes I wish I could just cut all the bullshit inbetween and just dance.

    • right? Just don’t talk to me, don’t look at me. Hand me your money and go away please. That is how I feel some nights.

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