Saturday, July 20, 2013
i very rarely feel demeaned at the club, and i don't even really often feel disrespected. i almost always feel that i am the one yielding the power in the situation, and that i am granting a very clear avenue for (usually) men to be present with their sexual desires without shame or judgment and with clear boundaries. the boundaries thing, on a side not, is interesting to me. in the few occasions in which i've been with cis-men who are not queer/feminist-y men, i've often not felt good communication around boundaries. in fact, i don't know why i queer/not-queered that. even in a lot of queer hook-ups and relationships i've been in, it's been hard to communicate boundaries on both sides. but at the club, men really often ask what is okay, and are really pliable when i tell them what isn't (once i've weeded out and NOT gone with the ones who just want to fuck.) but anyway, i wonder if people are just better with boundaries...or want more of them then we are brought up to think.
money has never seemed as tangible and as fake as working at a strip club. it kind of blows my mind how i can coax a man into emptying his wallet and then going to an ATM with a fifteen dollar surcharge. sex is pretty powerful i guess. i always feel like the lap dance starts when they go to the ATM lol, and i stand behind them scratching the back of their head or rubbing their back or working my hips on them or something so that they stay in the mood and don't freak out about how much money they are spending.
but anyway, back to my EXPERIENCE BEING DEMEANED. what made me feel so shitty wasn't like a guy getting over excited and trying to touch my pussy, which happens ALL THE TIME. but it was another fucking british sleazebag! i feel disgusting just remembering it...it's funny what becomes big. these two white guys in button - downs were sitting in these chairs far from the stage. in my head i decided to call them the "no dance" or better "no money" chairs, because guys sort of sit in them to be away from the action...to avoid the path way of the dancers it seems, and also to avoid having to tip whoever is on stage. so anyway, despite thinking this...in fact WHILE thinking this, i went to sit on this one guy's lap. i started to talk to him...he was british and then he said. "don't talk. i just want to watch." so i was like, whatever. and i stopped talking. and he started running his hands all over my body. at first it was fine, but then it started to feel disgusting, like SUPER DIRTY. and believe it, i have guys hands over me all night, so what about this was different? it was that vermin-like quality, this sense of oulless touch, with no perception of the humanity of the one being touched. so anyway, ti was feeling GROSS, and about a song and a half passed and i thought that i would see if i could bring him back to a lap dance room. at that moment he leaned to my ear and said "now go away." in that disgusting fucking british accent. i said, "excuse me?' "now go away," he repeated. i pulled out the side of my thong for a tip and he just looked at me. i did it again. nothing. i bent down to his ear and said, deeply and without wavering. "aren't you going to tip me for putting your hands all over my body for two songs?" he shook his head. no more than that. MYSOGYNIST SCUM OF THE EARTH. is all i have to say. i know a lot of men carry misogyny...a lot of women too...a lot of people in general. but fewer INTENTIONALLY DEPLOY IT. now that's fucked up and makes me want to go fuck some shit up. but i couldn't. but i did go over when ch-- was sitting on his lap afterwards and whisper in her ear (without making eye contact with him), "if he's anything like he was with me, he's a huge sleazebag who won't tip you anything or buy a dance."
There were many more incidents of racism as always. From the flagrant, "did you ever notice how drunk mexicans are as bad or worse than black people?" spoken by the door girl, to a more subtle instance that happened to me while walking around the room looking for customers. i often think about how racism happens on both the sides of men picking girls to give them lap dances, but also vice versa. anyway, i will take this opportunity to admit to profiling towards white men when giving dances. i'm not going to deconstruct that here, only that i am understanding a need to challenge that in myself. tonight i sat down tih a black guy who was there with his friend. he was on the outside, more so than his friend, but he was also bald and i think had lighter skin than his friend. i was chatting with him, and he said, "can you do me a favor?" and i asked him what it was. he asked if i could go sit with his friend, that hsi friend was having a not so great night because he hadn't been getting very much attention. i told him that i was working, and did he want to tip me to go sit with his friend. he said something, i don't reember what, and i asked if he wanted to buy a lap dance for his friend or if his friend wanted to buy one. he said, and he seemed genuinely upset at this point, "we've been in a lot of clubs tonight, can you tell me why no one has sat with my friend?" in my head i said RACISM, and i'm sure he knew the answer, too. he said that no one had given his friend a chance to see if he wanted a lap dance even. So i went and sat on his lap, and he was SUPER sweet, and i did give him a dance and it was lovely and goddamnit if racism isn't everywhere and sad as fuck.
Also, tonight I was standing outside with A--, and these two guys were sort of homing in on us...they finally got close, and the one guy asked what kind of a bar it was. The door girl said, "It's a STRIP club." and he said. "oh." he looked at me and said, "I thougth ya'll were an impersonator bar." Oh man I wanted to laugh so hard. And he didn't mean it as an insult he genuinely thought that, and he was a little drunk so he was really just speaking where he was at. A--, who hadn't been visible to the man as I had been was like, "oh no, baby, this is ALL real." After he left she looked at me and was like, "he thought you were a dude!" as if that had not already been clear ot me. what neither of them probalby realized was that that was like the msot awesomest compliment ever.
One of the early dances I did was with a guy who was the overseer at an oil rig. While I was giving him the dance, he said some offhand bravado about "I've done it all." I was like, "yea?" not really paying attention or caring about what he was talking about. "everything except sex with a dude," he followed. "Well," I said, "you still have time." "OH NO." he said, immediately. the next thing that i heard was, "there's no quitters on the rig," which didn't make sense ot me, so i said, "oh no?" and he said, "nope. there are no queers allowed on my rig." "no?" i said. "no." i asked him what happened to queers on the rig, if they got kicked out. He said he had had one guy and found out he was "queer" and "so i told him he had to go." GODDAMN.
"there are no queers on the rig" "i found out he was queer and i told him he had to go. also, he said that i could tell he was cajun by his accent and his attitude.
Friday, July 19, 2013
July 18, Thursday
115 after tip out -- SUCKY SUCKY night.
i was way to tired, and i didn't want to go in, but E. was auditioning tonight and I wanted to be tehre for her. I'm still worried I wasn't there for her enough. Anyway. it was super slow and I ended up leaving even though I didn't make enough money and there were still guys there, I left at like 3.15 cuz I just couldn't do it anymore.
i always wear my blue hoodie home, sort of as a disguise of some sort, to be less conspicuous. tonight, just as i had hopped on, biking down the first block down bourbon street, i passed this person walking the opposite direction from me on foot. a black, masculine of center person. as i passed, she yelled, "TRAYVON MARTIN."
115 after tip out -- SUCKY SUCKY night.
i was way to tired, and i didn't want to go in, but E. was auditioning tonight and I wanted to be tehre for her. I'm still worried I wasn't there for her enough. Anyway. it was super slow and I ended up leaving even though I didn't make enough money and there were still guys there, I left at like 3.15 cuz I just couldn't do it anymore.
i always wear my blue hoodie home, sort of as a disguise of some sort, to be less conspicuous. tonight, just as i had hopped on, biking down the first block down bourbon street, i passed this person walking the opposite direction from me on foot. a black, masculine of center person. as i passed, she yelled, "TRAYVON MARTIN."
Saturday, July 13, 2013
510 before tip out
friday night. July 12
i feel like i lost some money along the way. that it like, fell out of my purse or somethng. i should be more careful in the future. but also, i realized something super annoying. i did this room with this dude, whose name i couldnt' remember past square one. he was pretty funny in that he kept acting like it was pure kismet that we met, that we were meant to be. he kept saying "if i had come in five minute later, do you think we would have met?" and hilarious things like that. he talked about how comfortable he felt with me. also, he talked about how good i smelled. i asked him what i smelled like. he said, "i don't know. you smell like...WOMAN." later he said, "i realized what you smelled like...it's sweat." in a good way. i kind of liked playing with him. he was pretty handsome. i put my mouth all over his shoulders...bit and sucked. so he payed 100 for the room and 300 for me. but he paid with a card. so i got a check, but the check was only for 240 because the owner takes 20% off of credit card transactions. so this was a good lesson for me to learn. i also let him slap my ass a lot, because it was less work then me continuing to gyrate and kept his mind of pulling his dick out of his microfiber boxer briefs. i went upstairs afterwards and momma was like, "somebody got a hold of YOUR ass." oh i do love her.
i feel like i have the closest thing to a friend at work now. i won't write her name, but it's the name of a fast car, so i'll call her maserati, even though that sounds a bit ridiculous. she is really nice and she is also tall and she's just open and kind. the other night we were standing outside on the street tryna get customers and she was waving down the street, "i know it seems like we're so far away." she said to me, gesturing at the club four storefronts down. "that's my sister. she works there, but we never see eachother because we're have kids and we're dancers..." i peered out to see her sister. "it's like once you become a dancer," she said, "you never see anybody anymore." i could imagine what she meant. i'd only been back in town for two days and i was feeling frustrated that i was going to work before doing anything else...feeling like i still wasn't back in town but only in the alternate bourbon street universe. and i know i don't work as often as maserati does. i decided to suck up my complaining a little at that moment.
i think i reached the point of not giving a fuck. i can't really care less if the other girls don't like me or resent me or are jealous of me or think i'm a bad dancer or whatever. every time i get back in town it is a little hard to get up the courage to be on stage again. but it's not so bad, and to be honest, i've started ordering an actual drink when the first couple guys ask, and that helps. i drink vodka cranberry which i never order in real life, but i feel like my stripper persona would order. i've also started sanitizing the men's hands when we go into a room. that way i don't get so anxious when they are all over my ass. last night i was giving a dance to this man in the merchant marines, and he was like, "oh the dirty sailor and the cute mediterranean looking chick." that was amusing to me somehow.
after work, maserati and i were doing our money in the dressing room. we were having small talk, which was so lovely and i asked her what she did when she got off work. she said she usually was so tired, she just showered and went to sleep. "my boyfriend usually wants me to give him a blowjob, and i have to be like, 'baby, the sun is coming up and i havent' slept yet.'" i told her that if someone asked me for a blowjob after i got off of work i would clock them.
also guys are still so racist! this dude came in and he was like, "i'm here with a lot of my buddies, but we don't like black chicks." and did i stop talking with him? no! i kept trying to flirt with him to get a dance. i think maybe that was a case where i should have drawn the line. he didnt' stay anyway.
i went in the bathroom to take a piss after waiting a couple of hours for them to re-up the toilet paper, and Eden* scooted in quick behind me and shut the door. i like her a lot and worreid that i accidentally tipped her off earlier, when in some awkward attempt at a greeting, i sort of blocked her way out the door. that's the kind of thing that could become beef here. but she was all camaraderie with me when she came in. "i'm hiding from a customer,' she said. she had been in a 3 for a hundred room, and some guy had wanted her to fuck him. "and i was like, 'no way am i gonna fuck you downstairs in a three for a hundred room. for a hundred dollars? and if i get caught i'd get fined $50, off the $70 i get from the a hundred, i'd be fucking you for $20...i told him i was going to go get a condom, and then i left, but he just came back in, so when i saw you come in to the bathroom i followed you in." i told her i was glad she did and that he was a dick and what do guys think they are getting.
i didn't know what she was talking about but later i sat down with a group of guys and was trying to sell one of them a dance and he said that his friend had gotten stiffed on a three for a hundred. i made an excuse to leave and went and asked eden if those were the guys. unsurprisingly, they were.
friday night. July 12
i feel like i lost some money along the way. that it like, fell out of my purse or somethng. i should be more careful in the future. but also, i realized something super annoying. i did this room with this dude, whose name i couldnt' remember past square one. he was pretty funny in that he kept acting like it was pure kismet that we met, that we were meant to be. he kept saying "if i had come in five minute later, do you think we would have met?" and hilarious things like that. he talked about how comfortable he felt with me. also, he talked about how good i smelled. i asked him what i smelled like. he said, "i don't know. you smell like...WOMAN." later he said, "i realized what you smelled like...it's sweat." in a good way. i kind of liked playing with him. he was pretty handsome. i put my mouth all over his shoulders...bit and sucked. so he payed 100 for the room and 300 for me. but he paid with a card. so i got a check, but the check was only for 240 because the owner takes 20% off of credit card transactions. so this was a good lesson for me to learn. i also let him slap my ass a lot, because it was less work then me continuing to gyrate and kept his mind of pulling his dick out of his microfiber boxer briefs. i went upstairs afterwards and momma was like, "somebody got a hold of YOUR ass." oh i do love her.
i feel like i have the closest thing to a friend at work now. i won't write her name, but it's the name of a fast car, so i'll call her maserati, even though that sounds a bit ridiculous. she is really nice and she is also tall and she's just open and kind. the other night we were standing outside on the street tryna get customers and she was waving down the street, "i know it seems like we're so far away." she said to me, gesturing at the club four storefronts down. "that's my sister. she works there, but we never see eachother because we're have kids and we're dancers..." i peered out to see her sister. "it's like once you become a dancer," she said, "you never see anybody anymore." i could imagine what she meant. i'd only been back in town for two days and i was feeling frustrated that i was going to work before doing anything else...feeling like i still wasn't back in town but only in the alternate bourbon street universe. and i know i don't work as often as maserati does. i decided to suck up my complaining a little at that moment.
i think i reached the point of not giving a fuck. i can't really care less if the other girls don't like me or resent me or are jealous of me or think i'm a bad dancer or whatever. every time i get back in town it is a little hard to get up the courage to be on stage again. but it's not so bad, and to be honest, i've started ordering an actual drink when the first couple guys ask, and that helps. i drink vodka cranberry which i never order in real life, but i feel like my stripper persona would order. i've also started sanitizing the men's hands when we go into a room. that way i don't get so anxious when they are all over my ass. last night i was giving a dance to this man in the merchant marines, and he was like, "oh the dirty sailor and the cute mediterranean looking chick." that was amusing to me somehow.
after work, maserati and i were doing our money in the dressing room. we were having small talk, which was so lovely and i asked her what she did when she got off work. she said she usually was so tired, she just showered and went to sleep. "my boyfriend usually wants me to give him a blowjob, and i have to be like, 'baby, the sun is coming up and i havent' slept yet.'" i told her that if someone asked me for a blowjob after i got off of work i would clock them.
also guys are still so racist! this dude came in and he was like, "i'm here with a lot of my buddies, but we don't like black chicks." and did i stop talking with him? no! i kept trying to flirt with him to get a dance. i think maybe that was a case where i should have drawn the line. he didnt' stay anyway.
i went in the bathroom to take a piss after waiting a couple of hours for them to re-up the toilet paper, and Eden* scooted in quick behind me and shut the door. i like her a lot and worreid that i accidentally tipped her off earlier, when in some awkward attempt at a greeting, i sort of blocked her way out the door. that's the kind of thing that could become beef here. but she was all camaraderie with me when she came in. "i'm hiding from a customer,' she said. she had been in a 3 for a hundred room, and some guy had wanted her to fuck him. "and i was like, 'no way am i gonna fuck you downstairs in a three for a hundred room. for a hundred dollars? and if i get caught i'd get fined $50, off the $70 i get from the a hundred, i'd be fucking you for $20...i told him i was going to go get a condom, and then i left, but he just came back in, so when i saw you come in to the bathroom i followed you in." i told her i was glad she did and that he was a dick and what do guys think they are getting.
i didn't know what she was talking about but later i sat down with a group of guys and was trying to sell one of them a dance and he said that his friend had gotten stiffed on a three for a hundred. i made an excuse to leave and went and asked eden if those were the guys. unsurprisingly, they were.
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