Archive for February, 2012

Hunneds, Hunneds.

February 27, 2012

When I play Black Jack, I swap my small chips for larger ones as a control mechanism. I only allow myself to play with, i.e. spend, the small chips, and I walk away with whatever large ones I manage to accumulate. At work, I’ve adopted the same mechanism lately; I swap $20’s for hunneds as I make them, and every hunned I make becomes untouchable, for deposit only. Those annoying shifts where I don’t quite break the next $100 mark, or don’t break it by enough to have adequate spending money, I get a fiddy, which I’m equally unlikely to spend versus deposit.


Stripper Allies

February 22, 2012

My new club is so friendly it kills me. I’m not one to take pride in being a bitch to co-workers. I did not get back into the business to act standoffish. I spent the earlier part of this Winter extremely lonely, isolated and depressed, and bonding with another stripper over how being the black sheep of the family makes financial independence all the more fulfilling is validating as fuck.

Say what you want about “daddy issues” and other presumed baggage, but after spending the holiday season wallowing in self-loathing, consoling a girl whose friend committed suicide and another girl who feels guilt over not seeing her kids enough during Mardi Gras feels like FAMILY for those of us whose families treat us like pariahs. Just sayin’….

Plus, when you hug your fellow strippers, their silky smooth skin and yummy smells enhance the process.

February 22, 2012





Progress Report

February 9, 2012

I just barely managed to eek out a $320 shift last night after tip-outs and fees. It was the kind of night where salvation didn’t come until the last couple of hours, during which I finally managed to sell 7 dances and a 30 minute VIP room. Earlier in the evening, I’d been subjected to a lot of bullshit and games from customers. I went off on one time waster before the night turned around and spent one of my stage sets clomping my heels like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

The VIP room was awkward, but I was glad the guy was easily sold after the time waster who listened to the VIP sales pitch dicked me around for a good ten minutes. The time waster was hell-bent on convincing the manager/VIP hostess to get the room with him and at one point, he pulled out several C notes from his pocket, yet wouldn’t get a single lap dance with me. After turning down the VIP room, he promised to get one dance, but I botched it by saying “you’re not gonna stick me with the tab, are you?” when he failed to voluntarily pull out the $30.  He and his cheap ass three friends left, and although I apologized to management for being a bitch to them, they were only there to play games, not spend, and none of the four got a single lap dance or left a single stage tip. Guys flashing how much cash they have and not giving up a single dollar are my biggest pet peeve.

It seems like it’s hard to clear $300-$400 at my club without VIP rooms, which means I have to get creative with how to deal in those awkward, whip-out-their-dick champagne room situations. Last night turned into a “put your dick away or I’m gonna chill over here sipping my drink” situations. By 10-15 minutes in, he was hard-pressing me for oral, so if I am struggling to stall guys in a half hour room, I have to really get my shit together to survive 1.5 hour+ rooms.

I meant to audition at Hustler today between 12-6, but I woke up at 4PM! I like the idea of working at an upscale gown club, but I also like how friendly and casual my current club is. Considering how late I slept, it’s clear that working one club an average of four shifts per week allows for ample beauty sleep compared to burning myself out working seven shifts between two clubs. Not having a house mom is nice because it saves me the tip-out and it saves me being hustled over availability of snacks and beauty services I don’t necessarily take advantage of.


February 4, 2012

Some bullet points on what I’m learning down in New Orleans:

-I should upgrade to Rick’s Cabaret from my current club since I have a single 1″ by 1″ tattoo easily covered with makeup. To quote another dancer “when I worked there, girls cried if they didn’t make a thousand.”

-Extras are known to be rampant here and judging by a hottie saying she had yet to clear $100 after midnight and how being “well mannered ” factored in, it seems that the tug of war is in effect.

-Guys are decently willing to pay for your company. I sat with two guys, one steadily tipping singles $5ish at a time, the other tipping $20 every couple songs instead of getting dances. Neither of them got dances from other girls, but both were cool about “knowing why” I was there.

-The club doesn’t seem to prefer my earning that way since they aren’t getting a cut.

-It’s tempting to continue at my current club cause I’ve never seen a nicer crop of staff or girls, and genuine camaraderie makes the job easier.

-My vocal chords are way too fragile. I forgot how easily I lose my voice.

-I also forgot how it feels to get in bed encased in cigarette, cigar and black n’ mild scent.

-My looks fit in well where I started; lots of wavy-haired brunettes whose hair is natural. I hope to keep up my natural hair cause the humidity is worse than I expected for this time of year.

-Walking even a block or two on Bourbon when you get off is incredibly annoying. Too many pushy guys sneaking up beside you from behind trying to stop you in your tracks, and tagging along if you keep moving.

-It’s hard not to drink a drop, but easy to avoid getting drunk. The reason it’s hard is feeling compelled to help the waitresses and shot girls.

-I need to learn how to sell VIP rooms without falsely soliciting, cause I’m all set going to jail during Mardi Gras.

-I can probably do great on day shifts given the lack of competition. I’m trying the stripper double shift route for the first time and will report back. Compared to my clubs in NYC where day and night were super segregated, here I can do days but stay as late into night as I feel like.

-I need some non-gown stripper attire if I don’t move on to a franchise club; Bourbon St. is casual compared to snobby NYC and I’d look stupid in gowns.

-Bourbon St. is very unpredictable as far as clientele, but I like that, save the hick last night who wanted to talk about Nigger this, Nigger that. Strippers face the issue of letting racism slide too often; it sucks but it’s par for course. People on Bourbon are usually ripe to spend money on “entertainment” and are likely to be in vacation-mode, so it’s really just a matter of gauging their budgets.

I’m working tomorrow before, during and after the Super Bowl. Debating whether to play up, neutral or down my Pats fandom. If it were high stakes Red Sox playoffs, I’d rep Boston all the way, even if it hurt my wallet.