The Big Debut

May 27, 2009 at 4:03 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

On the way to my first day at work, I stopped by CVS to pick up a lock for the locker I planned to use at the club. When I arrived, I learned it costs money to rent the lockers. Of course. So I did what I like to believe any newbie would do–I found an empty locker and snagged it. I’ll have to make good on that debt soon.

I sat by myself on a bench next to a dirty plate speckled with rice and about 20 shrimp tails. Nasty. The other girls all sat on 2 benches that had mirrors in front of them with a small bar to set their makeup. I had expected something a little nicer, but I’m not sure what. Most of them came to the club without  their hair and makeup done, but I was ready.

I stripped down to my skivvies, then replaced them with sexy lexy skivvies. I sat away from the other girls, not wanting to interfere with whatever flow they have. I figure I’ll sit back and observe for a while before asking them all my questions. After a few girls left to go dance, I began talking with a few of the others. They were all suprisingly nice. I guess I expected them to be bitchy to the new girl, but nope. They were all pleasant.

The house mom showed up and helped prepare me to work. She was reserved and thoughtful.

I made a visit to the DJ booth to ask where I was in the lineup. Where I’m working, you can pay to stay off stage and just do lap dances. I like to be the center of attention, so I was just going to request my music. My turn was up, and I worked the stage like an old, wrinkly pro. I was a tad disappointed when I didn’t make a SINGLE dollar, and then I realized none of the other girls, even the hotty totties, were making more than $2-3 on the stage. There were very few men there at the time, and then I was told it is not a big “stage” club. Nice. Whatever. I am going to work that stage every shift. I must shake the bootie and work the pole. It just feels so empowering. The DJ had a ton of constructive criticism. The most valuable thing he told me? He hated my panties. LOL. My husband loves them, so I think I’ll go with his opinion instead. Meaning–only private performances for my husband in those panties.

I met some real winners at the club. One guy, my very first lap dance client, smelled to high Heaven. I swear he was wearing a toupee and a glued on mustache. He said he will come back tomorrow for more. I’m thrilled to take his money and even moreso to have to rush to the back after I dance for him to wipe myself down in baby wipes to remove his stench from my general area.

Another guy was a medical doctor who immediately informed me he had a hard time keeping his soldier at bay when he was around beautiful women. He then demonstrated this for me and pointed to the little guy trying to rip a hole in his pants. He also asked me to lick his nipple. Thanks, but no. I don’t like long, dark, scraggly hair stuck in my teeth. And I do like obeying the law.

I can’t count the number of times I vomited in my mouth over both of these men.

Two other guys tried their best to convince me there is absolutely no way I’m going to make any money with my sweet personality and that I will have to cross some moral and legal lines to prosper. Not going to happen. No means no. I just don’t need this. And that is the best position to be in.

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Tomorrow Is The Day

May 26, 2009 at 3:13 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

I will wake up early and get in one last workout before I get beautified to work the pole tomorrow. Wish me luck (but not to break a leg).

What do I need besides my clothes, shoes, and my semi-hot body?

  • alcohol swabs (to wipe the funk off the pole)
  • baby wipes (to freshen the lady parts between dances)
  • makeup (touchups)
  • money purse
  • cover up outfit (for when I’m waiting backstage during breaks–don’t want to get cold and then get stubbly legs)
  • nail file (you never know)
  • toothbrush, toothpaste and mouthwash (no funkiness allowed)
  • deodorant
  • grip soles for my shoes (must stop and get these on the way)

I’m going to practice a little floor work right now. My husband is home, so I’ll just pretend I’m doing yoga and stretching. Maybe it will lead to sex. Again.

P.S. The children are asleep.

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Stripper Attire

May 25, 2009 at 1:13 pm (Uncategorized) (, , , , )

I never knew finding appropriate stripping attire would prove so difficult. I just have this idea in my head of being the very best polecat ever, and that will take a lot of practice. You should see my floor work. I look like a fish dying on land.

First, I visited a store in one of the shady areas of town and found three wonderfully slutty pairs of shoes. Incredibly hot. I also found a pair of fuschia, ruffly panties with black skulls and crossbones dotting them. Adorable! Just the right mix of hot and cute to turn on my first clients in a few days.

Next I visited Victoria’s Secret and picked up some items for a lingerie shower I was attending in the evening. I only found one “outfit”, and quite frankly, it wasn’t nearly slutty enough.

Finally, I hit up one of the local sex / toy shops and found a good mix of items.

I only tried on the tops. No way do I want to share coochie juice with other people looking for the same type of item–or with anyone else for that matter.

Once I start raking in the cash, I want to wear more corsette, tie-able concoctions–a little more burlesque style–but for now, skimpy is just fine. I have a feeling the men will adore me either way.

The whole idea of prancing around nearly naked on stage makes me so hot. Perhaps it is some sort of complex, but I have no fear. In fact, this is going to be the most exciting thing I’ve ever done. Ooooooooooohhhh.

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Reality Is Harsh

May 25, 2009 at 5:41 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , , )

I’m sexy. I know I am. I’ve been told this my entire life, yet somehow, the first club I went to completely dissed me. I walked in, and the doorman promptly informed me they had just had a job fair–LOL, a tittie bar had a job fair–, and I could go ahead and fill out an application. Then they dismissed me.

Not to be discouraged, I went to another place a few blocks away and received what I understand is one of the biggest insults a dancer can receive: they would allow me to work the day shift until I got my body in better shape.

Damn.

Well, I do have two children. I’ll take it.

I love to dance, I love to be naked, and I love money. I know there’s a sin in there somewhere. I’ll have to ask my priest what it is next time I go to confession.

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What The?

May 25, 2009 at 5:36 am (Uncategorized) (, , , , , )

I’ve always been quite the wild sex kitten. My husband courted me in clubs and bars, and then he tamed me. After falling in love with and marrying the man of my dreams, we created two beautiful children and a wonderful life together.

The twists and turns of life brought me to a fork in the road, and I chose to indulge my inner wild child by taking up quite an unorthodox profession for a married mother of two.

But shhhh! Don’t tell my husband I’m a stripper! He might start making me perform at home, and I just don’t have time for that in between keeping the house in tip-top shape, making three delicious meals a day, baking goodies for him and the children, and raising our two precious angels.

Follow me on my adventure as I transform from a clutzy wannabe into the best pole cat in the city.

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