I just got home about twenty minutes ago (it's 2:10am right now) from the stripclub. Guess what? I was there from 7pm... and I was working.
It wasn't really an amateur night. In fact, I was the only "amateur" there. I guess I sort of had a false impression about what it would be like-- I thought there'd be lots of nervous first-timers like me, unsure of what to do and all that. In fact, the only other "amateurs" were girls who'd never stripped at *this* particular club before.
Let me start from the beginning. Star picked me up at six, and we went over to her place (which was absent, thankfully, of both Frank, Leo, and her son) to get ready. I drank a couple of beers while she went over-- for the hundreth time-- the "rules" of stripping for me. I've never seen her so excited, by the way. It's almost as if this born-again Christian stripper woman was elated that I was actually going to do this. Show my naked body for money. I don't know... I was nervous as hell, and she was as giddy as a child on Christmas Day!
When we got to the club (at 7) we went through the front doors and, for the first time, I was brought into the back room. It's nothing like the back room I describe in TTT, btw. In TTT, the "dressing room" is just that-- a huge room with tons of clothes and makeup tables and such. In real life, at this club, the "back room" was rather small, it held a few lockers, and all the girls there brought their own locks for them. I didn't have one but I shared one with Star.
We got dressed quickly, she in a longsleaved halter-top, me in a sports-bra and matching black thong. After messing with our hair for a few minutes in front of the mirror, I took a deep breath followed her out into the bar. Where people could see me.
It was slow at first, and all I did was walk around feeling dumb and uncomfortable (damn shoes, damn thong!). Star, meanwhile, was dancing four-song sets on stage for the few men there watching her. Basically I just did what Star had told me-- I flirted with some guys, and tried to get them to buy me drinks. I got exactly three men to do so, totalling four drinks by 9pm.* At this point all I could think was this: I could do the same thing in regular clothes and less god-awful shoes (which, btw, hurt like fuck after the first hour, especially in my calves).
*One "rule" Star had told me about is that you should always ask them to buy you expensive drinks. Now, I'm a beer girl. I love beer. But even at $5.75 a bottle, beer is cheap at a stipclub, apparently! So I had to order drinks like Jager-bombs, and such... liquor. Shudder. I did it, but only because it would make "the bar" happy, as Star had explained...
At exactly 9pm, my stage-name was called by the DJ, and I was supposed to dance on the center stage.
If I hadn't had those drinks, I don't know if I'd have been brave enough to do it. But Star came over, and it was all like "Go go go!" and suddenly, there I was, a White Snake song booming throughout the bar.
Thank God for the lessons Star had given me on how to dance. It took awhile, but by the end of the first song I was actually getting tips! Only a two dollars, but still!
The second song started, then, which meant I had to undress. I seriously have so much respect for strippers, now. You guys, you have no idea how hard it was, to undress on this elevated stage while all these guys stared at me, expecting me to gyrate my body while balancing on these stupid shoes
and take off my top in a sexy manner, all at the same time. I had to maintain my balance in those god-awful
stillettos, plus I had to look happy and sexy and such. God.
By the fourth song, I didn't even care about tips anymore. I just wanted it to end. I was so tired, so out of energy. My dancing paled in comparison to the only other girl dancing at the same time (a really fit 30-something black woman who was another supposed amateur but later confessed to me that she'd been doing this for four years or so). I tried to get into it, but she knew how to use the poles and stuff, and I really didn't. I stayed away from the poles, out of her way. I felt dumb.
When the fourth song finally ended, I found Star sitting with a guy I assumed she knew well (turns out she'd just met him; she is so good at pretending to be a guy's best friend!!!). She was so excited for me, and after congratulating me on my first "set", she took me aside to ask me one important question:
"Who stared at you the most when you were up there?"
I glanced around, and then nodded my head over toward this orange-haired weirdo sitting by himself at a small table. His eyes had been glued to me the whole time I'd been up there, plus he'd come over and given me a $1 tip.
"Go see if he wants a dance, then!" she urged me.
Instead of listening to her, I went to the bathroom. I washed up a bit, mulled about, smoked a cigarette in there.
*BTW, here's one thing I learned that I need to change/add to TTT! There are lots of drugs at stripclubs, guys, shared among the dancers. In the 15 minutes I was in that bathroom alone I saw two girls come in, pop pills, and leave, and another two come in and swap pills. Pills seem to be the drug of choice! Crazy... You will see this in TTT, I promise...
Anyway. When I got back into the bar, Star was gone. I knew she was probably upstairs, giving someone a private dance. When I saw that the orange-haired guy was still staring at me, I finally relented and went over to him.
After talking for about ten minutes, and after he'd bought me a drink (a beer-- I'd had it!), I finally asked if he wanted to have a private dance.
He did.
Okay, guess what? It wasn't bad. Maybe I sound like I'm trying to rationalize all of this, but seriously? I had fun! I really did. Of course, knowing that I was getting $15 for every "dance" I gave the guy didn't hurt... but even if it'd been for free? Sure, he was sort of gross... but like... grinding away on top of him, while he just sat there? My thong-covered pussy against his denim-covered hard-on? It was almost like masturbating... like when I grind away at a dildo at home. I nearly came from it.
After four songs (I think he came during the fourth one, btw), he paid me and left. I had to give the cash to the doorman to the upper room (which is where the private dances took place), and then I was back on the floor.
$60 for about 12 minutes of work. Not bad!!!
That thought got me energized. When I was called up on stage again, I was more flirtatious with the tippers than ever (hoping they'd want a dance later). By 11pm I'd given six more dances, and had stopped accepting drinks from guys (I was pretty drunk).
So, I danced on stage, flirted with the guys when I was offstage, and was actually having fun. Star and I were onstage at the same time only once, but we had a lot of fun while there-- she egged on the crowd during the first song, and then she undressed me during the second. I did the same for her, and I got more tips during that set than I had during any other!
At 1am, though, she grabbed me from the bar (where I was flirting with a large middle-aged man who had just arrived) and brought me to the backroom.
It was time to go. We changed back into our regular clothes, and then I followed her to the DJ. Apparently he's the son of the owner, and he's in charge of all the cash. I signed a form and was handed $195, cash (for 13 private dances) . With tips I'd received from dancing on stage, that totaled out to $253 for the night!
The shitty thing is that right after he gave me the money, he told me I owed the club $65 for dancing there that night (like I said at the beginning-- this wasn't really an "amateur night", apparently). Also, I had to "tip" the house (bouncers, bartenders, DJ) 13% of what was left. So I ended up walking away with about $165.
$165 for six hours of "work", though? That's like, $27 an hour! Plus, I got it cash!
I have money right now. Can you believe it?
Star made out better. She ended up with
$295, cash, on the night. Can you believe it?
Once she dropped me off, I came over here to the computer to type this entry. And I am so, so sore right now. From my feet to my shoulders, I'm so sore. I feel as if I've been run through the wringer-- especailly, my legs. But I'm also incredibly horny. God, I wish I could just download all my thoughts to the website! Because having just re-read this entry, I know you can't understand.
I'm going to read some sex stories now. I want to masturbate-- my legs feel like rubber, but my clit is on fire, and it's all I can do not to touch it. Once I hit the "publish post" button, though, I bet I will.
All in all, tonight was good. It was fun. I know have some cash, thank God! My one big worry is this, though: how do I explain to Paul why I suddenly have money, if I buy myself some things? Like, for instance, I plan on going to the store tomorrow to buy the West Wing Season 3 on DVD. I rarely watch that show, but I love it... I have seasons 1 & 2 already on DVD.
Anyway.... maybe it's just the liquor talking (I'm not that drunk, though!) but I really think this stripping thing? Good stuff.
I need to masturbate now. I love giving private dances, just to make myself perfectly clear.
-shannon-
Labels: stuff about me
