Archive for May, 2012

Commute Pictures

May 21, 2012

Thanks to weight gain, I got the “come back in 5 pounds” treatment at Hustler and Flashdancer’s. I got psyched out and pissed at myself after trying four Manhattan clubs unsuccessfully, so I’m working in Staten Island until I can “upgrade” or add a second job. I have no desire to work in Queens again when it comes to outer boroughs. Staten Island’s a trek, but the demographic is better suited to me.

I’ve been meaning to work at Private Eyes or New York Dolls in Manhattan (where Flashdancer’s outsources dancers they deem worthy, but in need of junior varsity grooming) but all my long gowns are in storage. There are a good 10-12 dresses I want fromĀ http://www.kamalacollection.com/ but I’m trying not to spend a bunch of start-up money. (If you’re a dancer passing through NYC, Kamala, who has high SEO on Google for shipped gown orders, makes their dresses in Long Island City and can alter yours on the spot if you go in person.)

It’s that Catch-22 of not wanting to spend, but knowing there’s higher earning potential in Manhattan. My club in New Orleans was feeling annoyingly brothel-ish toward the end, so I’m actually happy to work at a casual, lap dance and stage club for a few weeks. Some of the girls wear some downright ugly one piece numbers that ride up their butts like a Baywatch bathing suit, but it’s not super low class.

Back in New Orleans, we had lots of Staten Island customers, usually destination bachelor parties. They are the type of middle class Italian-American that likes me; I’m a sassy red-head who is short and curvy. In fact, I’m thinking of buying shorter heels cause at a mere 5’2″ 1/2, I’m towering over the vertically challenged Italian guys in my 8″ platform shoes! I have zero self-consciousness when I kick them off to start a lap dance and make a big point of showing them my shrinkage. (Speaking of my petite height, that’s why modest weight gain is a beast ; every three pounds shows far more than it would on tall girls.)

Without further ado, I have some really pretty commuting pictures to show y’all; mainly from the Staten Island ferry en route home, as well as some Verrazano Bridge and Manhattan skyline pics.

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My Life in Someecards

May 4, 2012

Bottomless Bullshit

May 3, 2012

Not too many customers bitch and moan we aren’t full nude, though plenty hailing from Atlanta, certain parts of Texas, Wisconsin and other areas love leveraging the fact they get less for their money as an excuse to be cheap.

Female customers and civilians often ask “how do you get on stage topless like that?” and I always brush it off as no biggie. But bottomless is an emotional roadblock for me. It’s already irritating enough when I work the shit out of the pole and show my tits pro bono to an unimpressed, non-tipping crowd. Flashing my pussy in good faith, with nothing but some singles, or worse, perverted stares without tipping, as a reward just doesn’t sit well with me. Neither does the thought of getting finger fucked or otherwise sexually assaulted in ways that are far more applicable to nether regions than tits.

Last week, a young guy with an older man came in and pulled that move where he yanked my G string way out from my body and put the dollar right along my crack. Ever the psycho bitch, I ripped it up like confetti and told him it wasn’t worth it. The older guy later apologized for him and gave me $20, but in other clubs and other states, he’d have had nothing to apologize for and wouldn’t have pissed off the girl to begin with.

Guys often seem confused that a girl would go topless with zero hang-ups, yet clam up at full nudity. But I think my fellow women-folk can understand. Some of my favorite stripper bloggers are based in Portland, and I don’t know how they do it.

I’m not trying to act self-righteous or flaunt my personal boundaries. If my pussy looked more like a porn star’s, i.e. zero razor burn and less flappiness, maybe I’d be more inclined to show it off. I feel like my pussy is not as attractive as possible and that unleashing it on a stage audience would be akin to the girl with the horrible botched boob job dropping her top.

Ugly pussy self-esteem issues aside, it’s also a mental boundary. It seems far too easy to be violated on stage, during lap dances or in VIP when you have no barrier. The worst offense is on stage since the dollar stakes are low and the humiliation factor of having an audience is high.

As another girl said while discussing topless vs. nude, “a G string may be a tiny, almost microscopic barrier, but it’s a barrier.”

And as one of my cheesy jokes goes, “so little of me is left to the imagination and yet so much.”