more from yesterday --

guys are often like, "how/why did you become a stripper?" i guess i would wonder too. last night, v.i.p. dude was touching my boobs and he was like, "you have great breasts." and i said, "yeah, that's why i became a stripper." "oh yeah?" "yeah. you can't get lovers to worship your tits on a regular enough basis." and i think this is actually true for me, for an element. this thing about having a body part that conforms to some beauty standard of commodification, and being such a commodified body from the start, and then wanting affirmation on this, but also a) it can never come ENOUGh from a lover in this weird way, because it is not actually real, so it sort of evaporates once it is in the air. and also b) there is that weird taste in the mouth of being affirmed in the area of objectification that can get confusing with lovers...like this affirmation that i actually WANT in a way, i also really don't want from people who care about me...if that makes sense.

i saw what i thought was a mother and daughter pair enter the club. the daughter person looked like she could be a dancer, like she was gonna audition or something. and i had a moment of being like, "oh, that's so nice," and wishing that i had the kind of relationship with my mother where she would be excited for me to become a stripper. but it turned out that they were from this church group, "the women of inward." which is a hilarious name to me. makes me think of a vagina. They brought goody bags and gave them to all the dancers. No condoms, but I guess that is not surprising. They had useful things, though. hand sanitizer and emergen-c and cough drops. a rain poncho. a tea bag. also assorted small candies. a tasteful purple business card with a butterfly and a bible quotation. they seemed to know everyone in the club and the couple of dancers who i asked about them seemed to be positive bordering on protective of them.

the guy who i did a v.i.p. with also told me that if i wore the straps of my thong below my ischial crest (he didn't use that word, but that's one i learned from a former lover), that he thought i would make 10% more money. he's probably right. i always think it looks better above, but i suppose it is more jane fonda-workout video-esque. i'll wear it low. when i was laying on his lap he just wanted them pull down. he, more than others, never tried to touch my junk, but i guess he just wanted to look at it.

at the beginning of the night when i was dancing, r-, one of the waitresses got ones and put them on stage, i guess they can do that. i appreciated it, it helped my morale. she's sweet and seems to like me. i'd say she's in her forties or early fifties. she used to work with race horses and she said she'd had her skull cracked and her back broken any number of times by now. i forget the actual number. i requested her as my server for the v.i.p. room, and i tipped her at the end of the night. it seemed like the thing to do.

i drank more than i have yet, which was really barely one glass of champagne. i still felt like it contributed to the difficulty of my one hour of sleep the next morning. but i don't regret doing it.