SEVEN
My shift is not turning out well so far. I’m making round after round on the floor. There are men in clusters, and there’s even some action, but not for me. The customers are saying things like “Maybe later,” “Sorry, I don’t have any money,” and “I would if I could, sweetheart.” Then they’re buying dances from the very next girl who comes their way.
The hours drag by. It’s torture. I still haven’t made tip-out.
I walk past a guy at the stage. I’m not even aware that he’s seen me until he tries to jam his hand up into my crotch.
“What the fuck?” I cry, indignant. I pull away. He smirks.
“It’s okay. I’m a doctor,” he assures me.
Please. He doesn’t think there’s anything okay about what he just did.
I know that I don’t tip the bouncers enough to get guys like this thrown out, so when no one’s looking, I give him a mean, hard little pinch on his arm until he gasps with pain. And I keep on walking.
Quite a few of the guys are groping tonight. And none of them are spending money. Money would not legitimize this behavior for me anyway, but these clowns are going farther than is typical. Someone just boldly tried to stick a dollar bill up into me. Before that, another one yanked on my belly-ring while I was bent over onstage. Every move I make is another block, and I’m getting really annoyed.
Then Hunchback Guy comes in. I’m not kidding. I’ve never seen him before, but apparently he’s one of Brittany’s regulars. He is a dwarf, maybe four-foot-two. His legs dangle from the chair he’s sitting in the way the legs of a small child would. He’s got white hair and a face that looks like it belongs shrunken inside a bottle.
He smells so bad that Blue comes out of the DJ booth and whispers to me, “Watch out. I think that guy just crapped his pants.”
I shake my head. “I think it’s his breath,” I whisper back.
Blue gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t even want to think about what he eats if he smells like that!” he says, and disappears back behind the wall.
Brittany isn’t working tonight, and lo and behold, Hunchback Guy decides that he wants me to dance for him. He waves at me. I pretend not to see him.
He gets up out of his seat and walks over to the bar. He whispers something to Tim, and then returns to his seat. Tim motions me over.
“That guy wants you to dance for him. Go! He spends a lot of money here. He might even buy a bottle.”
“Did you catch a whiff of him, Tim?” I ask.
“Grow up, sweetheart,” Tim tells me.
“That’s all well and good for you to say. You don’t have to dance for him.”
“Neither do you. But you’re the one he wants, and I don’t see anyone else in here making a beeline for you.”
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“You know, you still have that fine from last Thursday. Gonna pay it tonight?”
“What fine?”
“You were late. Go look – it’s on the late list with a date.”
“You didn’t even say anything to me that night! It couldn’t have been more than five minutes!”
“Tell ya what. I’ll waive the fee if you dance for him – and you’ll still get your cut of the dances.”
I think I’m being set up, and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it. Unless I feel like quitting right this minute.
So I walk over to Hunchback Guy, who wants me to sit in his lap while we wait for the next song. I hold my breath and try to balance on his little knee, as far away from him as possible. And I’ve got my arms in close to protect my body, because he keeps trying to grab a tit, a thigh, an ass-cheek or my pussy while I’m sitting down.
Finally the song changes and I start dancing in front of him. I try to do it from a distance, and Tim glares at me from across the room. I move in a tiny bit closer. Hunchback Guy tries to lick my nipple. I pull away. He is continually sliding money into my garter, mostly singles, here and there a five or a ten. Each time he puts a new bill into my garter, he tries again to touch me someplace that’s off-limits. Tim ignores it.
He’s bought several dance tickets, so I’m stuck with him for quite awhile. He’s still tipping, but the groping is getting progressively worse. During the third song, he boldly reaches around and claps his hand over my tit.
I stop moving, and turn around. “What part of ‘not allowed to touch the girls’ did you misunderstand?”
“I’ve been nice to you…” he says. His voice is high and cartoonish. In fact, he sounds like one of Walt Disney’s dwarves. Did I drop acid before this shift and not notice? “Now you need to be nice to me,” he continues. He’s goddamned creepy.
“You broke the rules. The dance is over,” I announce, and I walk away. I’ve had it. Tim can do whatever he wants to me.
But the guy doesn’t complain again. He just sits sadly in his chair watching the stage for a while, then gets up and leaves. Tim seems to have forgotten the whole conversation from earlier. He smiles and pats me on the back when I’m passing him to go down to the basement. What a moody old fuck he is.
We don’t have showers down here. I settle for wiping every area Hunchback Guy touched with wet paper towels, and I change my dress. It’s not even about cleanliness. It’s a symbolic action. Then I return to the floor.
It’s midnight. After midnight every night, each girl is allowed one alcoholic beverage from the contraband bottle of vodka they keep behind the bar. I won’t turn twenty-one till later in the year. But that’s immaterial since a nude club isn’t supposed to serve alcohol anyway. I claim my drink religiously every night, and it gets me through the shift.
I approach Tim at the bar.
“Can I have my drink now?” I ask him, and he nods.
“Katie,” he barks at the bartender. “Give her a drink.”
I give Katie a dollar and walk away so that no one sees how fast I down that vodka-cranberry. Then I hear my name being called to get onstage.
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October 15th, 2008 at 9:53 am
great stuff. reminds me of fante or even pal joey. there aren’t too many women writers dealing with this world?
you did the right thing in not changing it. smashing!
Thanks
paul B
October 17th, 2008 at 6:35 am
Hmm, does the credit crunch affect strippers and stripping?
October 17th, 2008 at 7:04 am
I would think so, one way or another. I suppose how it plays out will depend on whether this is the kind of recession that favors spending excess cash on entertainment or not.
It’s a very interesting question, though, and I wonder whether some of the strippers who are blogging out there would like to have a go at it. How about it, ladies? What’s happening in the clubs right now?
October 17th, 2008 at 3:59 pm
The credit crunch has affected the gentlemen’s club industry in two ways:
1. With layoffs, more women are turning to stripping because it’s much more socially acceptable than it was 10 years ago and the urban legend that every stripper makes $1000/night is alluring.
2. The customer base has declined. Especially in areas that has a high percentage of jobs in the real estate and financial services sector. In Maricopa county one out of every three dollars is generated from real estate transactions. If you take a third of the money out of circulation in an area, the trickle down effect is astounding.
October 17th, 2008 at 7:03 pm
In fact I just submitted a 3,000 word article about this very topic to $pread magazine. And it didn’t take much research to discover that YES, the state of our economy is severely affecting strip clubs like never before.
Many in our industry have long believed we were “recession proof” but no more. Even the CEO of Spearmint Rhino says it’s clear, we’re all being hit.
Both stripping income and bar sales are down all over the country from 25%-75%. Twice as many girls show up to work while half as many customers come in, with less & less money to spend. House fees don’t ever seem to drop though!
So then the tough competition too often propels new, inexperienced, or just plain desperate dancers to do “extras” for the same (or sometimes even lower) price than the cost of a standard dance!
It’s a very scary situation. One that could easily drag our reputation as an industry down even further. Or just maybe (hopefully) force us to take a hard look at what we really have to offer, and perhaps shift the direction of our industry to a higher expression of emotional and erotic labor.
Thanks Lauri, for broaching this important topic.
xo,
Casey
http://www.MyDancerDiary.com
October 18th, 2008 at 9:57 am
There is an article in The Nation discussing this topic in detail. And Monica’s commentary at $pread blog is definitely worth a read too.
October 18th, 2008 at 11:47 am
Lauri, thanks for the plug! (And Casey, thanks again for writing for us.) I think our next issue will have an economy theme/focus since, well…what print publication doesn’t right now? If any of you would be interesting in contributing in any capacity feel free to email me, or keep an eye on the blog where we’ll soon be posting a call for submissions.