Archive for April, 2012

Groundhog Day

April 19, 2012

There are many aspects of stripping that make me grateful I’m not an average working stiff at a straight job. I can talk back to customers. I can swear. I can toss drinks in people’s faces if they’re out of line. I don’t have to put up with emotionally abusive crap and feel like a pushover.

But my day to day feels damn boring lately. I’m working tons of shifts to pay my big-ticket expenses; taxes, a $1,200+ flight to Europe, the car I hope to buy this summer and a ginormous hospital bill. I’m on a monotonous cycle of working, becoming physically exhausted, hitting the 24 hour store on the way home, popping a sleep-aid, snacking, sleeping and waking up with just enough time to return for my usual 3PM-Midnight swing shift.

On my days off, I don’t do much. I pay bills, I shop and I organize things. I read and write for a few hours. I sit by my friend’s pool, I watch tons of DVR (justifiable as I’m a wannabe TV writer.) When customers ask me about fun places to go and things to do, I usually draw a blank. “Uh…just wander around Bourbon. Check out Uptown by the colleges, good drink specials.”

I’m not terribly good with money and my safest way to be responsible is to work so much I have little time to spend. The bad shifts where I leave almost empty-handed, my reassurance is “at least I didn’t spend money while I was stuck here.” God love indentured servitude. The good shifts make up for it.

Strip clubs are a very interesting environment to observe behaviors and size up various demographics, as well as learn sales techniques and conversational skills. But I don’t feel any different than, or somehow “above” my peers with normal jobs. My lap dances and stage sets are practically identical every time. My conversations are mundane, unless I quickly find a pleasant common ground with the customer. I laugh at bad jokes. I crack even shittier ones. I keep meaning to take certain songs off my stage list and groan every time the ones I’m sick of come on.

My job is quirky and it’s the premise for this blog, but it’s just a job and it’s boring me these days. There are worse gigs, half of which I’ve worked. I’m financially stable and want for nothing. I’m gearing up for summer adventures to Italy, Vegas, LA and maybe even North Dakota. I have work lined up in Providence, RI for the summer. I’m doing credit repair to prep myself for a car loan. NORMAL PEOPLE SHIT.

I don’t have much spark or passion these days, and I’m hoping my upcoming travels and break from the New Orleans routine will re-ignite the flame. Yet, feeling more lucid and passionate often goes hand in hand with feeling squeamish, anxious, vulnerable and manic. I’ve been feeling bored and monotonous in New Orleans, but with the boredom goes deeper, sounder sleep and a sense of security. I’m a bat shit crazy stripper supporting my writing habit at the end of the day, but I can’t hate on people who are perfectly content to live a stable, albeit boring life. There’s a certain comfort in it that I’m enjoying, yet resenting, for the time being.



April 9, 2012

We work the pole hard at my club, but most of us look like run-of-the-mill strippers, despite customers’ frequent “It’s like Cirque du Soleil with tits!” comments. One day, a girl about 4’10” came in who seemed far more suited for burlesque, show-girl dancing, and watching her stage sets irritated the fuck out of me. It wasn’t jealousy, it was her nauseatingly precious and cutesy performance style. She wore a nautical ensemble, which I could forgive if it weren’t for the gold tassels atop shoulder pads like an H.M.S. Pinafore community theatre costume. She kept bopping up and down ad nauseum on our spinning pole along with Rihanna, but the kicker happened when she lay on her back, legs spread in a V, and someone placed a dollar right over her crotch. The dollar suddenly billowed up a good six inches thanks to an unknown air source I presumed a queef. I was disgusted, but when I said as much to a girl in the dressing room, she explained that she blows on it with her mouth. Still, the illusion of emitting a 10-15 mph gust of queef hardly strikes me as sexy. I haven’t seen her since. Maybe she hopped a time machine back to a WWII USO Show or happy-go-lucky MGM musical production lot.

Peep Show

April 9, 2012

April 7, 2012

People be acting like a stripper’s life’s all glamorous and shit.

New Orleans vs. New York

April 6, 2012

No Russian co-workers!

That more or less sums up why I like stripping here more.

Round Trip ?

April 6, 2012

Thanks to a mishap on my one-way $15 Air Tran flight from Boston to New Orleans February 1, I have a free RT! I asked if I could use it on a one way and, since I can do two one ways in lieu of a RT, hello Vegas followed by LA. I LOVE Boston in the summertime, but I can consolidate my love for lobstah, chowdah and wicked awesome Massholes into a couple weeks before replacing the Atlantic with the Pacific. Details TBD.

Dolla and a Dream

April 3, 2012

I’ve decided to move to LA by July. I don’t have as much money in the bank as I’d like and I’ll probably have to bite the bullet and get a car loan instead of paying up front, but it’s high time and I feel ready. I’ve wanted to be a TV writer since 2007 and I can’t afford to squander more years in other cities. So wish me luck and feel free to lend me some advice!