Archive for May, 2010

Heels and Hags

May 31, 2010

One of the reasons I have a natural disposition toward stripping is I wear high heels 95% of the time by choice. I’ve never appreciated sneakers except while on a treadmill, and I absolutely loathe the frumpy women who wear ugly commuter shoes to and from work.

Outside of stripping, I do a lot of stupid promotion jobs and other gigs that involve standing up and people are always shocked if I wear heels to those events. If the uniform requirement involves flats, my ankles start hurting a couple hours into the gig because I’m not used to much of my weight resting on my heels. I also like to think that I’m helping myself avoid the icky cankles older spider veined schoolteacher types have from putting too much weight on the back of their feet.

When stripping, the only time the super high heels can be daunting is when I pull one of those classic bend over and grab my ankles moves. I sometimes fear teetering onto my face by leaning forward so far when I’m already on my toes. At least I ain’t dealing with toe shoes here and the brand Ellie’s that specializes in stripper shoes, makes outrageously and surprisingly comfortable models.

I came across a fun blog called The book based on it is called Damn it Feels Good to be a Banker, a satire about the baller lifestyle of Wall Streeters. Not only are strip clubs discussed in the book, but the author takes some time to knock on female bankers, saying they’re all overweight and try in vain to compensate at Equinox Gym. He also says they have zero sex appeal.

While, I hesitate to agree with sexism, I’ve seen some horrifyingly ugly commuter outfits at Grand Central Station. I used to do promotions there during evening rush hour and saw far too many calf length skirts combined with tennis shoes. These menopausal hags, you know, the kind that say things like “for crying out loud,” make me depressed. I briefly temped at an office predominated by such hags who exerted their jealousy of my youth and slim figure by delegating all coffee and copy making to me when it would take 2 seconds to do it themselves. Whatever helps you sleep at sexless night (and soak your sheets with night sweats) bitches.


Dirty, Sexy, Hood Money

May 27, 2010

A girl referred to the money at places like my club and other non-Manhattan clubs as “hood money” the other day. That was in response to my telling her we get a late night crowd, even on school nights. I’ve mentioned before that encounters with drug dealers are frequent, between a guy offering me a bump in the lap dance room to another guy encouraging me to try H. Eek, all set with that.

I always boast that I’m no Carmela Soprano. I don’t want to marry someone who earns dirty money to maintain a glamorous lifestyle. Still, I earn many lap dance twenties, rained singles and the occasional $50 or Benjamin from baller type dudes who are, in many cases, dealers.

We get plenty of thugged out looking guys who are broke as a joke and the odd white trash customer who isn’t spending cause he’s “waitin’ on a settlement check,” but there are very few suits at my job. A few lawyer regulars, sure, but the vast majority of the money comes from….well who knows.

One kind of snobby girl said she’s too proud to bend over and scoop up singles when guys are raining them. I wish I could be that proud, but at a hood club like mine, that’s where a lot of the money comes from. I got $150-$200 in singles in under a half hour that way last Friday night right before we closed. When you’re a stripper, it’s pretty easy to find sexy ways of bending over to pick that money up. We usually grab a beer bucket and throw all the singles in them to be sorted and counted in the dressing room later. When I’m buzzed, I’ll skip around with my little bucket of money treats like I’m fucking Little Red Riding Hood. It’s just annoying to sort and count them when you could be out working it and making more where it came from.

Boob Job Gone Wrong

May 26, 2010

There’s a really pretty girl at my club who has an awkward lumpy left breast. She is stunning in general, a curvy latina with a thin waist, soft skin, nice lips and smile. But that left boob of hers is horrible. It’s also distracting. I’m squeamish and I have no desire to go under the knife or hear about the surgery. But this picture of a breast augmentation implies what might have gone wrong with the girl.

The lump is on the bottom part of the breast under the nipple and you wouldn’t necessarily see it from a mile away, but anywhere within 10-15 feet it’s painfully obvious. I find it mildly gross and if I were a guy, it’d almost be a deal breaker. One of the guys in VIP last night was digging the girl so her general prettiness was probably enough compensation/distraction from that fault. Whatever doctor she used wasn’t careful about sewing her back up nicely after inserting the implants.I’m not a litigation whore, but I’d sue if my left titty looked like that!

I used to work as a  waitress with many former Hooters girls (they closed Hooters where I was living at the time). They all had cheesy low end boob jobs that were beyond obvious. I don’t have anything against getting yourself done a bit. Boob jobs are a way to be big in the right areas and stay skinny otherwise. Most girls aren’t lucky enough to weigh 100 pounds, have a teeny waist, zero cellulite and DD’s. It just doesn’t happen. I have more T&A then I used to thanks to weight gain, but there’s a little F&C(Flab n’ Cellulite) to go with it.

You Booze You Lose

May 26, 2010

I don’t know what it is, but I’ve now gotten too drunk two nights in a row and left work early (you’re not supposed to do that and we tend to get a late night crowd).

I haven’t had much of an issue with getting too drunk at work because I tend to sweat off some of it dancing and often my drinks are few and far between. On Monday night, I was at least drinking for champagne commissions, but last night I just got drunk off a VIP table’s bottle of Grey Goose.

When I got home last night, both of the locks on my apartment door were locked. Usually I just lock the bottom one but my roommate, who is in the process of moving out, had locked the top one. I couldn’t, for the life of me, unlock it in my drunken state and proceeded to throw a shit fit kicking at the door with my strong foot (the right one) and pushing on it with my back. Now my lower back and right ankle kill and I can’t even work up the energy to go grab a water bottle at the store half a block away.

I was calling 411 for a locksmith and essentially ditched them once I finally managed to get in. Sorry to be selfish, but I didn’t do well last night and I don’t want to pay upward of $50. I have to leave my roommate a note pleading with her not to lock that door anymore.

Last night, I was complaining to the manager that I wanted to collect my drink commissions from Monday night. Usually the bartenders start submitting the drink tickets with our names on them to the house mom at around 3AM. Since I left early, the manager was saying I might not get the commissions (I have to talk to a different manager who wasn’t there last night). Basically, it doesn’t make me look good that I drunkenly ditched work early yet again just last night. What’s gotten in to me? A lot of times I have 5+ drinks that don’t even phase me. My tolerance is so unpredictable. Last night it probably had to do with skipping dinner.

Regarding the unpaid commissions, the club owed me at least $100 on Monday. Since my stupid ass left early, I’d be out a decent chunk of money if they don’t pay me. The club supposedly has a $30 fee for leaving early. Obviously, I’d prefer to pay that and still come out on top $70 or so dollars than lose the commissions. However, bouncing early again last night doesn’t help me look any better and could possibly cost me another $30. Who knows. They don’t really enforce it. I just know I need to get my shit together and I feel like a decrepit hot mess.

Stripper Fashion Spread!

May 25, 2010

On the runway of….my bed. Without my body in them, trying to stay anonymous remember?

Speaking of fashion spreads, my stripper friend who is just 19 and also a model and photographer keeps saying she wants to do a photo shoot of me. I’m definitely going to take her up on it soon since I haven’t put new pictures on facebook since 15 pounds ago. I used to be bony, now I’m kinda a thick white girl (ahem euphemism for plump/meaty in a good way).

Got this dress last week, purple is my favorite color (notice my purple comforter, imitation down for $35 at Century 21 thank you very much) I’d been waiting for the house mom to get some dark purple dresses, so I was eager to scoop this up when I saw it.

This dress is snazzy, but I don’t wear it that much.

Short dress. Mini gown for nights they they let us wear short stuff (I prefer not to but sometimes it makes me feel leggier and it’s a novelty)

Shoes! The purple ones were only $20 but they’re intensely uncomfortable. Ellie’s shoes are unbelievably comfortable considering the height. They are a common brand for dancers and my personal favorite.

Notice the $28 Dior lip gloss strapped to the 7″ heel. The clear shoes were given to me by a friend. They’re a size big on me, but the boost in height makes my 5’3″ ass feel much taller and sexier.

One of my favorite dresses. It’s sheer so you see my legs through it when I’m dancing and it makes my hips look great.

A number of G Strings. I love the black one with the rhinestones and I treated myself to the Hustler brand Hustler thong last week. I can finally put the Hustler label on myself now that I actually have hustling skills, unlike my first month of stripping when I earned jack.

Another favorite new dress that looks great on me, along with some essential stripping gear; hair straightener, fake fancy jewelry, combination lock to store my things when working, glitter eyeliner, Dior mascara, bronzing lotion, vanilla scented lotion and spray tan stuff (the junk you put on your legs to look like you have pantyhose on).

Another shot of my gear along with my favorite scent, Miss Dior Cherie (have you noticed a trend that I love Dior cosmetics. They make the best mascara and lip gloss and I’ve used that perfume for three years now).

My only two piece dress. Looks way better on me than in the picture. I bank in this guy and I like how this shade of blue compliments my newly dyed red hair.

I’ve spent a pretty good chunk of my stripping money on all this gear and I’m going to try not to buy anything else for a while. I’m in saving mode.

I just signed up for a Gotham Writer’s Workshop for TV Writing. Writing an HBO pilot is my dream, so that’s my first stripping cash investment. I also plan on getting my first studio in August when my lease is up and for my Birthday in October, my gift to myself will be Lasik eye surgery. I’m so blind and glasses and contacts are an expensive pain in the ass. Lasik is only about 3K but I sure wish I could sleep through it.

The studio and surgery (which I find far more worth than the prevalent plastic surgery in my industry) are all realistic now that I’m making good money. I can still put a grand or so per month toward my credit card and savings while working toward those goals. My credit card is about 5K so I should have it paid off by the New Year.

Hung Over off 5% Champagne

May 25, 2010

I just woke up feeling pretty bleh with my contacts in. When I went to my bathroom mirror, I realized I’d tied my hair up in a sloppy Mulan-esque bun on top of my head with a silver sequined garter.

My customer showed up earlier than expected last night, maybe 10PM. Since he’s a bit shy, I was pounding champagnes for my commissions. I think my club owes me about $100 in commissions and I woke up with only $180 in my wallet just now. I might have lost a little money drunk. I also think I complained to my customer (oops turn off) because when we went in the VIP room, the club charged him $100 for them, which didn’t happen last week. I only got $100 off him I believe instead of the $250 I got last time.

The two of us were trying to see what percent alcohol my champagnes were last night and it turns out they are only valued at 5%. While that ain’t much, I still managed to get kinda sloppy off them after having about 10 in well under two hours.

So when do you get Off?

May 24, 2010

Lately, I’ve been in “work so much you have no time to spend and can save more” mode. I put $500 in savings this week and am hoping to put that much or more in savings on a weekly basis. Working for dead presidents, it’s also easier to think of my accounts as “deposit only” because I pay bills and rent in cash. Today, for example, I’m stopping by a Radio Shack on the way to work to use cash from last night to pay my cell bill and I pay my Bank of America credit card bill in person at the bank.

Too many guys, usually cheap ones, always ask when I get off and where I live. I’m not the best liar, so I’m finding it easiest to tell the truth when I say I never have nights off. I’m so sick of guys saying they want to take me out to dinner or for a night on the town. They can’t seem to get it through their thick heads that I sacrifice at least $100 and up to $700 or so every night I take off.

Guys also can never seem to stop asking “do you have a boyfriend?” “Oh, why not?” There are tons of strippers with boyfriends and I can’t honestly understand how that works, but I’ve been perpetually single forever without ever falling in love.

Today I got a comment from another stripper who lives in Edinburgh. It’s good to hear from someone with a similar blog in a different location. Her blog is at

Let me Entertain You

May 24, 2010

Sunday nights are hit or miss and last night was a bit of a miss. The crowd ended up being the type who wants to just watch us dance onstage and tip according to whatever fancy pole tricks we display. I am by far not the best dancer at the club, pole or otherwise. I’ve also sworn off doing moves that will leave bruises because I’m going to the beach with my family for Memorial Day weekend.

At the end of the day, I’m an articulate white girl who does better with men who are looking for company and intimacy. Humping other girls so men will rain bills on me isn’t quite my forte. I rely on lap dances, champagne commissions over conversation and the odd VIP room visit to make money and consider the stage a secondary bonus. On Saturday night, I was lazy on stage as far as dancing and fancy moves, but because it was busy, several guys approached me for lap dances saying “I saw you on stage, I’ve been looking for you,” etc. For me, the stage is a place to catch a guy’s eye for later, not work my ass off for singles.

Last night, I finally gave a girl a lap dance. I was making my way around the bar for tips after getting off the stage and a girl told me she wanted one. She said “you’re so beautiful” and it was pretty flattering since lots of girls who come in are just suppressing jealousy and secretly hate us. I also made some Indian guy cum in his pants after just two songs. Those are the moments where you feel like you might as well be a prostitute, when you’re a $40 7 minute dry hump fuck.

On a completely different subject, I hear a disturbing story from another stripper at my club. She has two pit bulls she’s borderline obsessed with and apparently came home to find evidence of a dog they’d killed the other day. She said another big dog had somehow gotten in her yard and her dogs had torn it apart so thoroughly in their garage that you couldn’t make out much of what the killed dog had been. She said something about blood spattered 10 feet up on the wall. The manager keeps saying “If you tell that story again, I’m calling the animal protection society.” The girl could definitely get in trouble and her dogs would be put to sleep in a second if they saw evidence of what happened.

I don’t understand the nature of pit bulls. So many people love them and defend their naturally sweet nature, but that story creeped me out. The girl says one of her dogs is a rescued pit bull who had been abused and that they are fine in public with other dogs due to the help of choke collars, but I wonder why they would kill so viciously. She’s not fucking Michael Vick running a dog fight ring and encouraging them to do it. But she was willing to conceal evidence of what happened and not do the right thing for fear of losing her dogs.

Dasvidanya Russian Pimp I Didn’t Sign Up For

May 23, 2010

I don’t have my writer’s chi at all right now, but I feel bad I’ve been neglecting the blog this weekend. On Thursday night, I had an unpleasant incident involving the Russian driver who occasionally drove me to strip out of state (I mentioned him in the post Drugs are Bad, Mmkay?) I don’t plan on working with him again and feel far more safe and comfortable staying within the confines of my club equipped with cameras, beefed up security staff and metal detectors.

The Russian driver who recruited me through Craigslist on an ad seeking exotic dancers to dance anonymously out of state proved what I had suspected the other night; that he is some low level Russian mob pimp. He charges $50 for a round trip to a club just under two hours from NYC (really not a bad rate) but on Thursday night, the club he brought me to was so dead, I made only $40. I met a girl from Long Island who offered me a ride home, so I dipped without paying the club’s house fee or the DJ’s tip-out. I paid for the girl’s food and gave her some additional gas money. Later, I checked my phone and saw eight consecutive missed calls and 2 texts from the Russian. A little while later, he sent a text reading, “Yo, you think you’re slick, (First, Middle, Last), Born ___-__1984? Passport Number _______? See you on (my street) real soon” At the point I read that, I freaked out. Before remembering the club out of state had copied my passport, I thought he had gone into my wallet when I wasn’t paying attention. While he could have obtained my information without doing so, I distinctly remember him asking my first night “Do you want to leave your valuables in the car when you’re working since you don’t have a locker? You don’t want to leave your wallet with your passport around.” Sociopath Brighton Beach pimp fucker.

The girl who was driving me said “You got yourself a pimp,” and I said “But I’m not a hooker, I’m just dancing up there.” The threatening behavior was certainly pimp-esque, though. The girl from Long Island said his name was probably fake and that he’s probably illegal. She told me to go file a report. I was scared to go home and I even had to call my roommate and persuade her not to come home that night just in case. She freaked out thinking it was a matter of robbery and was all worried about her new laptop and cash she had in our place being taken.

I had the girl drop me off at the club where I work and the manager called me a cab to the local precinct. After filing the complaint for “aggravated harassment” I stayed with my friend in Brooklyn. I finally got the Russian’s money to him through one of his drivers. I made sure the driver met me on a very populated block instead of convincing me to venture into some unknown area.

I have to keep an eye on things to make sure my compromised passport information isn’t abused. Once I get my official case number, I will submit that number to a department who deals with that. The Russian was obviously just trying to scare me and I think he’s an idiot for exposing himself as a threatening type. However, I’m very grateful I’m now aware of that side to him and am going to cut contact fully. The money at the club he would drive me to was never very good, but I’d go there with him if my other club was overstaffed. Also, I’d go for trivial reasons like wanting to be able to wear a short dress instead of the usual long gowns or wanting to work at a club where smoking indoors wasn’t allowed.

Russians truly scare me. I am far more familiar with Italian culture and the Italian mafia. The Italians always have a deceitful smile on their face and act friendly, but the Russians are cold and manipulative from the get-go. The girl driving me home that night told me how when many Russian strippers are recruited and flown over, their passports get taken from them and they are forced into becoming sex slaves. She said she had no shame in being prejudiced against Russians, who she says are all sociopaths (of course I think that only applies to certain circles of Russians, i.e. the pimps, thugs and strippers/hookers.)

I feel that I am lucky being American working in my own country. I am less vulnerable, but the other night proved that I’m quite naive. I can’t believe what a facilitator Craigslist is for people like the Russian. I really don’t feel inclined to use that site anymore even though great things have resulted from it too. I also feel bad for the girls who fall victim when recruited to strip in foreign countries. People act like strippers and prostitutes are such social pariahs, there seems to be no public clamor to defend them against their male predators. The only ones you hear about as victims are underaged prostitutes.

In other better news, I’ve got myself a couple new regulars at my Queens club. The same guy has spent hours with me the last few nights spending $80-$120 in my champagne commissions and hundreds more on dances. He gets so drunk, I just start raping his wallet when I can tell he’s no longer coherent. My other new customer is the man I met last Tuesday, a lawyer who spent $250 just to sit and talk with me in VIP. He plans on coming to see me tomorrow, Monday, which is perfect because Mondays aren’t a night you can count on banking without a regular or luck or both.


May 22, 2010

Now is the time

to act a fool tonight

forget about your worries and you will be alright

It’s Saturday!

I haven’t blogged the past couple days cause I’ve barely been home and blogging from my blackberry’s a pain. I’m very under rested and trying to muster up some energy for tonight. Saturdays are too big of a money night to give up cause I’m tired.

I had an alarming incident with a Russian the other night. I’ll blog about it later. Right now it’s nap time, later it’s hustle time!

Last night I got kinda drunk at work and got into full blown stripper mode. I was just dancing all over the place (not only during my stage sets) and being a fun broad. Genuinely having fun and enjoying the party makes earning easy. Hopefully I can get the energy to do the same tonight.