Darkness tightens its grip

I'm dreaming of a night Christmas...

Santa would be pissed at me for being awake until Christmas morning.  My sleep cycle has fallen back into the night time pattern.  I'm not liking it.  Why do I relish ignoring my "don't sleep all day" alarms that go off in the afternoon?  It's bad when my 5 o'clock birth control pill reminder is what wakes me for the day.

It's only because I have nothing to do during the day yet.  This "vacation" has already spoiled me.  I think I'm gonna try to revert my schedule next week... After new years.  It's hard to change your wake-up time from 5 p.m. to 9:30 a.m. in less than a week, but it's possible.  It's gonna suck.  I obviously prefer waking up late.

Maybe I should stop watching TV shows on Netflix.  I started watching Dexter, which is quite addictive.  I know, I am so late to that show.  I really like how the show is written.  I think this is what keeps me awake so late.  And the oversleeping.

Tomorrow is Friday night.  I'm feeling compelled to work, but I know I shouldn't.  My sleep schedule is perfect for working night shift.  But I'm feeling very fat and lazy.  I've been cooking up some delicious, fattening festive meals, and I've also neglected to work out since school let out.  My trainer is gonna kill me... If my boss doesn't get to me first.  I think I'm gonna have to stop my vegetation process early.  I've been tossing out all my motivation, and I think it makes me a weaker (and fatter) person.  The thigh fluff is returning, ab definition is lacking, stamina is declining.

We'll see how long this vacation lasts before I decide I've accumulated enough potential energy.

Time for break

School is out for Christmas.  I wonder when society will reinvent the holiday schedule.  It's poorly timed.  I need money.  That "buy presents for your loved ones" pressure compelled me to spend and next month is January.  It feels like the most expensive month of the year.  And last January did not go so well, especially financially.  I still remember those tears.

Someone even commented on my nightmare post that I need a vacation.  I'm listening.  I'm debating taking one of the next two weekends off.  Question is, which one?  The weekend before or after new years?  I'm not working new years, don't try to convince me.  That "holiday" belongs to me.  I deserve one party night a year for sacrificing my weekend nights for cash.  This year it's right in the middle of the week.  I'm just going to drink, stay inside, and be normal.

I would feel irresponsible if I took both of those weeks off.  I want to save my energy and my money but the bills won't stop.  Energy is all I have.  I have a feeling that if I take the next two weeks off, it will be beneficial to my school life, with a clear, well-rested mind and body.  Plus the sheer boredom and lack of income will probably make me that much more enthusiastic to return to both school and work ready to command, grind and conquer.

But I have to consider that if I attempt to work, it will probably be a shitty night knowing that all my super-spender co-workers will be hunting for end of month cash and the club has no guys.  I don't need that, my sanity doesn't need that.  I'll be kicking myself for not taking that conveniently timed vacation.  Or I could make enough cash to ease the burden of paying for January's expenses.

Stripper nightmare

Soo... I had a dream last night.

I was working and I danced for like three songs to some old fart and the next thing I know, I'm off somewhere else in the club and I notice my stack was too low.  I can't remember if he paid me.

Much of the remainder of that dream was me wondering how could I let myself not get paid?!

Then the other dancers found out and started ridiculing me.  I couldn't find a way to hide from it.

Then I woke up and felt so relieved because I would NEVER really forget to collect.

I love and hate how dreams leave holes in the story and focus on certain things, people or events.  So strange!

Losers from the past

I shouldn't have danced in the same town I grew up in.  Only because every once in a while, I'll run into someone from my pre-stripping past, like dudes from my high school.

Last weekend, while on my usual hustle, I approached a group of guys who seemed like actual paying customers.  Apparently they went to high school with me or they knew the guy who did.  They asked me if I knew the guy, and I immediately got turned off when they said his name, because he kept mistaking me for some other girl from our school who looked like me.  Thank goodness they think it's her instead of me, because it's fucking hilarious watching them try to call me out when they've got the wrong girl.  

It didn't really matter to me that they thought they knew who I was, but every time I bugged for a dance, they'd deflect and keep bringing up the past.  I asked three times, they deflected three times.  Three strikes, they're time wasters.  So I started getting snippy, because I just wanted to work, and these guys are trying to make it more awkward for me.  I fucking hate that!  So I ignored them.

About 20 minutes later, one of the guys approached me and asked how much a dance was.  Following my own advice from a few posts ago, I said, "for you, $30."

He paused for a moment and said, "I'll think about it."

"Ok, you do that," I replied.  

I could've done one for $20, but I'm starting to hate myself every time I agree to that deal.  I feel like I'm the one being hustled for that price.  A lot of guys try to bargain with me, so if they want to pay bottom price, they gotta get more than one song, and two for $40 isn't much better. 

During my next round, I saw the guy and asked him if he had thought about it some more and if he was ready to dance.  

"I only have $20." 

"Oh, ok, well let me know when you have $30."  *peace*

That's another one of those lines I RUN from.  "I only have $20" means he's not the customer you want.  I want customers that just want to keep getting dance after dance, not concerned with the cost.

Someone asked me, "why $30 and not $20?" 

It seemed so easy to answer.  Without missing a beat, I said, "because $20 makes me feel like I'm selling myself short." 

Plus, I won't complain when guys get grabby as long as they paid good.  I won't allow grabby for only $20.  They gotta pay if they wanna play.  

The point I try to make is that we dancers respond to incentives.  The more a guy pays, the more grabbing I'll allow.  It's a hell of a lot harder to make money off someone who pays $20 than someone who pays $25 or $30.  That's why I'll shut down $20 offers.  

But sometimes there are nights when there aren't enough customers and too many girls working.  Sometimes dropping the price to $20 is necessary, but it's really a last resort.  I'd only agree to it if it's been too long since I sold a dance.  But they still get my watered down, no touching dance for being cheap.

Anyway, I lost that sale because my dances were too expensive for him.  It doesn't really bother me, especially when I think about how I saved myself from wasting time with someone who obviously doesn't respect me.  Fuck that.  I'm at the club to entertain gentlemen, not losers.

Sale night

I'm liking business school.  It's fun to apply the concepts to stripping.  Tonight wasn't a very good night to be a dancer at my club.  Too many girls working and not enough guys with money.  Lap dance supply heavily outweighed the lap dance demand.

Some guy tried to school me on "how to make more money" stripping.  I love how guys who have never been a stripper think they know the business better than I do.  He was like, "It would be better if the club did revenue sharing instead of charging you girls a flat fee."  In my mind, Family Feud buzzers and big red X's are going off.   No, wtf, it doesn't make sense for me to give away a cut for every dance.  I'd rather start off in debt because 99% of the time I do well enough to pay the house fee.  Another one of his suggestions was to spend more time building rapport and going for the weak ones, as if I don't already know.  He was like, "Remember their names, ask how their day is going.  They'll become your regular." I don't work at a "regular" club, so that's the worst advice.  The best way to make money is to GOUGE GOUGE GOUGE, haha.  I wonder if he could see me rolling my eyes.

I followed my own advice from my last post and for the most part, it worked.  I got paid what I wanted from everyone I danced for.  I just wish I danced for more people, but I'm glad I got what I could.  Tonight wasn't that much of a headache other than the ample downtime.  

May tomorrow night be busier and better.  Goodnight!

More tips for noobs

This one is for the ladies.

You might be brand spanking new, or maybe you've been dancing for months.  Either way, I'm sure these tips will benefit you in the long run, if you plan to keep dancing.

- Save your energy for the big bucks.  If you haven't caught on already, doing lap dances or rooms is the way to make the most money in the shortest amount of time.  Sadly, stage tips haven't gotten any bigger in the past three years.

So I say this with the hottest blood because I am FUCKING SICK of watching new dancers do this.  STOP GETTING ON YOUR KNEES/SPREADING YOUR SHIT/TWERKING FOR ONE DOLLAR.  Stop it.  Just stop.  In fact, don't do anything extra.  A dollar these days is fucking pennies when it comes to actual purchasing power.  You are not a god damn soda machine.  The ONLY time you do something awesome on stage for someone is either for yourself or for a larger bill denomination.  $1 should not motivate you at all.  $5 should make you budge just a tiny bit.  But really, save your energy for when you're actually getting paid.  MAYBE if they're making it rain, but as soon as those dollars stop falling in front of you, stop dancing, look at them and say, "Hey, why'd you stop?"

Bwahahaha.

-Ask for a tip.  I've said this before, because more times than not, you get extra just by saying it when it comes time to pay.  If you do this with every customer, the bonuses add up.  It becomes your bread and butter.  You're not being crass or homeless.  Say it like "everyone tips."  Sometimes, a guy will tip too much (SCORE).  But as often as that happens, sometimes the guy will ignore "plus a tip" and pay what he owes.  Don't let it phase you.  All you have to do is ask, it's no more effort than that.

-No matter what the price, you must tell someone who asks "how much?" the highest amount of money you can charge.  Don't cut deals unless you are asked to, and don't cut deals you're not happy with.  If you don't like doing 2 for $40, don't do it.  (If you do 2 for less than $40, find another club, you aren't earning enough) People that only do one song are only one step above "complete time wasters."  So you shouldn't feel bad making them pay premium.

-For your sanity, don't dance for the rapey guys.  Most of the time, the money you receive from grabby creeper won't cover the therapy sessions you'll need after dancing for him.

Times you should RUN:

Whenever a guy asks "what can I do?"

That usually translates to, "I want to get my money's worth, so can I touch your pussy?  ...can I pinch your nipples?  ...I want to push the limits."

He will be a fucking headache.

Spotting time wasters: usually you can't tell until you talk to them.  This is why you should always ask for a dance within 30 seconds of talking to someone.  I usually don't open with "wanna dance" because my success rate isn't as high as asking someone for a dance with a quick intro right before the close.

I read something about advertising and it said that people usually turn away from anything that sounds ad-like.  You must make them feel comfortable and remind them it was their idea, because it really is - why else would they come to the club?

So open with something casual, friendly and flirty.

You: "Hey, how's it going?"

Customer: "Good, you?"

You: "I'm great.  Wanna go dance?"

Sometimes that's all the intro you'll need.  It's not wrong to cut to the chase.  You are not being pushy.  If he seems hesitant, he may need some "time."  The most successful dancers I've worked with have this ability to say no to "no."

It's hard to tell when he actually means no, but as time goes on, your judgment will get better.  Sometimes guys need a little persuasion, but there are guys that want you to keep trying to persuade them.  Remember, more than 30 seconds is too long.  If he doesn't budge after that much time, chances are he won't budge for many more minutes.  Don't waste them.  Lap dance time is valuable.  Politely excuse yourself from that loser and move on to hunting down a guy that will actually pay for your excellent lap dances.

The way I see it, if you're not doing dances or working in VIP, you're "on the shelf," which includes being on stage.  Focus your energy on being "off the shelf."  Don't waste time.

I tend to bash the stage only because I've been working long enough to not care about it anymore.  If you're awesome on the pole and your epic stage routines yield fat tips, by all means, make that money.  But your epic stage show should result in someone wanting to spend mad dough on lap dances with you.  If it doesn't, ask yourself if all that twisting and turning you just did was worth it.

One last thing, and this is important.  PAY YOUR TAXES!  If you are paying your bills with stripper money, depositing stripper money into your bank account, it can be traced and you must claim that money as income on your federal tax return.  If you are making bank, you can afford to pay taxes, but you must be diligent in setting that money aside so you don't spend it.  It is a common mistake, but the world is getting better at tracking money and if you leave a paper trail, you need to be ready to explain yourself... And pay.  It sucks, because often the tax expense as an independent contractor can run up to a third of your income.  If you make bank, you better save some for the IRS, because it is illegal to underreport income, not file at all, or try to cheat in some way.  Don't be a greedy whore.  Stripping is legal income and you should be proud of yourself for being able to keep yourself straight with the IRS.

Alright, I think that's enough for now.  I'll think of more later.

Ladies, hope this helps.  If you're a guy, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, but I'm positive I'm not the only dancer who feels this way.

Short shifts

I think I only worked 6 hours over the weekend.  Hate me more, hard workers.

I haven't been very motivated to work late.  I think getting back on the college carb and caffeine diet makes it harder to stay awake on those long work nights with just one can of red bull.  I won't drink two cans.  I already feel like death after drinking one.  I wish my club would serve iced coffee.  They need an espresso machine.  I bet so many girls would be happier doing espresso shots instead of drinking red bull all night.

Anyway, I think all the customers that I saw this weekend were saving their money for turkey.  I can't say I blame them, because that's my motive.  So their lack of spending made it harder to make money, so I decided to not exhaust myself by staying all night.  I was pretty tired both nights.

I'd like to wish everyone a happy thanksgiving, an abundance of your favorite food, killer black Friday deals so good you'll have enough cash left over to buy some lap dances on Saturday.

Can never run out of firsts nor broken records

First for me tonight: Some dude insulted my face.  As I'm walking from my vehicle to the club entrance, a young-ish guy who was smoking said he liked my pants.  

And I was just a little sweetie by smiling and saying thank you.

But he had to ruin it and say, "Yeah, they're not like your face."

I couldn't have handled it better: just kept walking.  How do you respond to that?!  YOU DON'T.  "Fuck off, loser," is not even worth the breath nor the attention.  Dissing is so desperate.

Not my favorite way to start the night.  The club was fairly busy tonight.

Broken records: got a sweatpants boner man customer.  It's always THEM that ask me for a dance. Just, old, ugly and gross.  They really are "low-ballers."  I lol'ed when he said, "yeah let's do another song, I really wanna release this time."  Fucking cheap perverts don't motivate me to make them cum with their awful haggling.

A lot of people complimented my ass.  Apparently my secret blend of carbs and exercise keep it firm yet full and the "nice ass" record broken.

Another broken record is the stinkiness.  Some dude I apparently ambushed upon his strip club arrival  (couldn't just be a coincidence I was the first girl to talk to him) had the nastiest breath and wouldn't stop talking and trying to put his sweaty hands on my ass.  Now that I write this, I realize he was part of the drunk crowd who probably had a shit load of drinks and blow.  No WONDER he was so annoying!  Ok, story's over, you know what ends up happening.  I get fed up with their stupid, time-wasting chatter and bug for a dance in a negative way so he says no and I can seamlessly get the fuck away from him.  Just, ew, ew, ew.

Aside from all that bullshit, the money made it worth it, so it's no worries.

Wide spectrum

Tonight wasn't too bad.  I danced for a lot of guys, and they can be classified as "guys I loved dancing for" and "guys I hated dancing for," but not many guys in between.

If there are any men reading this who like lap dances, a bit of advice, and it may not apply to you, but some of these men that come to the club do NOT know how to touch a woman by any stretch of the imagination... My poor titties...

DO NOT HONK MY TITS WTF YOU FUCKING PIG!  Quit squeezing them like they are made of pizza dough... That is what my butt cheeks are for, not HITTING.  I hate guys that slap my ass and actually think I like it.  I wish I could return ass slaps with face punches.

On the bright side, there were a few guys who were handsome, perfect gentlemen and tipped generously.  Only when I get these guys I think to myself, "Ah, I love my job," especially when they're guys that can obviously get laid for free if they just went to a normal bar.

I hope tomorrow goes better.  Less rapey guys would be nice, lap dance gods, and more of those generous handsome guys that don't try to cross the line.

Aren't you worried about stalkers?

Whenever I talk to "outsiders" they ask me this whenever I tell them what my night job is.  By outsiders, I mean people outside the strip club industry.

My answer is, "well duh!"

There are several controls that can be implemented in every stripper's trek home after a long night of leading on horny men.

1. Dancers get walked to their rides when they exit the club.  Side note for dancers reading this: if your club does not provide this service QUIT WORKING THERE AND FIND A CLUB THAT DOES.  Bitches get robbed and kidnapped without this control set in place.

2. If you drive home after midnight, it's relatively easy to spot someone following you home.  Even in crowded cities, the roads clear up after midnight.  So dancers, keeping your eyes peeled and having your cell phone handy solves the stalker problem.  Make a detour to the police station if you don't feel safe.  Don't stop any place that requires you to get out of the car.  Don't get gas or cigarettes, but drive-thru munchies are alright.

3. Whenever I talk to customers, to build rapport we sometimes ask each other little small talk questions and share a little personal info.  Whenever someone asks me where I LIVE, I do not answer truthfully.  I say I live somewhere that will send any stalker on a wild goose chase.  NO customer needs that info, so they'll never get it.  It's critical to personal safety to exercise extreme caution whenever someone wants you to talk about yourself.  

Those are the main controls I implement.  There are several more but I won't disclose that on the stalker-subscribed Internet. 

Goodnight y'all! 

Everyone is trying to fuck me

Good god, what a strange night.

Ass hole tried to rip me off, couple snuck pictures of my ass with no permission, and I got propositioned by like every guy I danced for tonight.

I almost want to work at some other club.  Maybe I need a change.  I don't want to change, I'm comfortable, but I'm just not excited about stripping sometimes.

Lucky me working two nights a week allows me to miss it during the week, so the energy makes up for my "checked-out" attitude.  And sometimes I just enjoy my job, and I am a happy stripper.

Despite all the bullshit, because there was a lot, and I'll spare you some tonight.  I got that extra hour and I used it up.  I got to work late and make money til the end.  Fuck yeah.

Now the sun is up.  Before 7.  Later, DST.  See ya next spring.

Lately I've been scoring high on my academics, and that makes me happier than stripping.  Yay real life!

Another thought: there was a lot of bitching in the dressing room tonight.  Like, more than usual.  Go figure, it's rent week.

Goodnight, have a lovely day.

Totally "Office Spacing" it

I'm lacking motivation tonight.  I've been incredibly busy working on schoolwork this week.  I managed to squeeze in a shift last night for a few hours.  The club got dead halfway through the night, so I went on break and then decided not to come back.  I've been really tired, and sick, too.

My earnings are completely pitiful for the week.  Gotta love education loans paying rent this time.

I've got even more schoolwork for next week, so I'm using this weekend to study hard for my test.  See where my priorities lie?  I'm starting to get over all the bullshit I deal with at work.  It's not even that exciting to me anymore.

The only interesting thing that happened last night was the "lap dance connoisseur" who wanted a "connection."

BLEH.

I couldn't poker face that one.  I jokingly (but really meant) said, "You should know that when you're getting a lap dance, there's nothing actually 'there.'"

I suppose it's not my flirting skills that are lacking, it's my acting skills that could use a touch up.  I was very down to business, and none of the guys come to the club to "do business."

But it's always so easy to buy drinks, but somehow lap dances aren't.

And someone who might be from one of my classes asked me while I was on stage if I went to school.  UGH don't fucking bring that up, can't you see I'm working?  Don't make it creepy, please.

I need to get over this cold.  I think I effectively spread it last week, but I am still coughing and hacking shit up.  This is probably why I don't have much willpower to work tonight.

Hope everyone is having a lovely weekend for Halloween.  I'm gonna be the devil which I thought was a fitting character for me.

So bad I got drunk

It's been a long time since I drank at work.  Usually I make some kind of money during my first hour.  Not tonight, though.  What bullshit.  I fucking hate nights like these.  Such wastes of time.

Since I couldn't sell a dance, I decided tonight would be the night I had some liquor.  Then I stopped being so shy.  It became easier to mingle with people.  Sometimes I mistake the hot lady customers as judgmental bitches, but tipsy me had no problem going up to them.  Turned out to be great for me because there was a group, two ladies and a guy, and they each tipped me a $5 bill.  That was probably the highlight of my night.  Two hot ladies who are hot enough to work along side me tipping better than all the other fucking losers populating my club.

Wow, loser is just the beginning of what I would call the people that came in tonight.  Some guy had it bad for me, and the more I talked to him, the more I hated him.  The last straw was when he and his buddy came up with a whole $5 to offer for a dance for the both of them.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

By then, I'd had a few and I told him, "Ya know, you're pissing me off.  I'm outta here."

I forgot how easy it is to insult the hell outta people when you're wasted.  Fuck them, I don't deserve to be insulted with a $5 dance for two people.  Just. Die. Both of them should remove themselves from the gene pool.

What do you feed that thing?

Ha, I remembered something funny from the other night.

I was on stage bouncing my chubbier butt for dollars and some young guy asked me, pointing at my ass, "Wow, girl, what do you feed that thing?"

For the entire week I was eating just the worst foods a stripper could eat and all of them had one thing in common:

"CARBS!" I blurted at him.  He and his young friends laughed hard.

So funny because it's true.  I've been on the college carb and coffee diet.  Ugh.  No wonder I feel fat and shitty.  Gotta stop putting off the workouts.

Too busy not stripping

Well, I guess things around here may be getting quiet because I hardly ever strip.  I've become a sustenance stripper.  I only work the weekend nights.  The rest of my time is spent working on school, chores, fitness and socializing.  Who cares if I don't make enough money?  That's what financial aid is for.

I also got lazy on my workouts.  My ass is getting bigger, I can tell!  I'm milking my good luck while I can.  Because before school, I wasn't lazy with my workouts and my body was thin and cut.  My abs faded back into my increasing adipose.  My thighs aren't as tight, either.  But my ass grew.  And it's not nasty, yet.  So it's good news for now.

I took a step back and reworked my time management and drew up a new plan and fit in some workout time with my class and study time.  We'll see how well I can stick with it.  Sometimes I overestimate my willpower.  "Easier said than done" kind of thing, because do you ever look at something on the schedule and go, "I just don't FEEL like it!"

My ass got real good at listening to that devious thought when it came to exercise on school days.

Yay, football season!

I had a good weekend thanks to the many football fans who got dances with me.  Hooray!

Now it's time to switch back to study mode.  Slutty mode shutting down.

I'm getting better at taking less bullshit.  Football fans come in all categories, the most common being the young jock.  Young jocks love the stage because they can't afford lap dances.  And they try to get lap dance action sitting at the stage.  It's disgusting how much they think they're entitled to for one dollar.  I just want to tell them to go back to creepin on cheerleaders because that's all they'll ever get.

So a lot of guys want to smack my ass and I AM NOT COOL WITH IT!  Not for one dollar.  I should just get a tattoo on my ass that says "$10 per smack."

One young jock smacked my ass and I looked at him with rage and yelled, "Hey, douche bag, did I say you could do that?  You need my permission first."

I could tell that embarrassed him.  Ha.  I couldn't believe I just taught that guy a lesson!

Small break from homework

Sorry, Internet, I've only been using you for school lately.

What happened to all my free time?!  I already miss it.  Just a little bit.

But I'm not gonna get shitty grades!  I have to be competitive.  I would like to think I'm doing good so far.  Seems like the homework is pretty incessant.  I need to get used to this feeling.  I used to know it well.  But two years is kind of a long time to let your brain get soft.  I'm dreading the tests I'll be having soon.  I can't fail.  I can't let my fear of failing cause me to fail either.  Fuck!  I want to own the hell out of my classes.  I WANT to succeed.

Just stopping in to let you know I'm not dead.

<3 p="">

Too hormonal to strip

I might have to skip every 4th Saturday.  When it's my last inactive pill, I get PMSy.  I skipped work tonight.  Fuck that.  I don't need to be crying in front of a ton of douche bags.

I don't feel like getting all gussied up.  I just wanna wear workout clothes, flat shoes and no makeup.  I'll never get dances looking like this.  See, I'm way too negative to be working tonight.

Part of me just wants to go out and socialize, and just be a customer.  I'd spend money I don't really have, though.  Last night wasn't fruitful and since I'm too bipolar to work tonight, I'm just gonna have to try to sit and save my money.

I've been busy doing my homework, trying to keep up with all my assignments and deadlines.  I'm loving school; It makes me happy, despite how much work I've got because of it.

I've been trying not to skip my workouts.  I got some good butt lift sessions done on Monday and Friday.   The rest of the week I got my exercise from walking around on campus and climbing stairwells.  Fuck elevators, except when I'm not wearing shoes meant to tear up the stairs.

I made pitiful money this week, but I'm proud of myself for staying an active student and athlete.

Young and broke

Not my night.  Nothing but a bunch of fucking douche bag frat boys.  It was a nightmare.  Just a bunch of stingy, unappreciative bastards.  I would've kicked them all in the face with my new, shiny shoes if I could.  My feet hurt so bad.  :(

Since there were only young boys at the club, I had to dance in front of someone on stage.  When I got in front of this one group, some guy was having too much fun trying all the girls, testing to see what we will do for free.  Ugh, I am not putting ANY extra effort in my dancing for one dollar.  It's gonna take a little more than that to get me excited.  Some guy wanted an "appetizer."

FUCK OFF!

He later asked me to take off my glasses for him.

"No," I declined.

He was shocked that I wouldn't play his stupid game.

God.  I should just get some panties with "MONEY TALKS" on the back.

I'm hormonal.

Time to enjoy the weekend

Ah, I'm done dancing until next weekend.

Last night was pretty crazy.  Some guy made it rain for my doppelgänger.  I'm gonna suppress my jealousy because it does no one any good.   There were mostly young customers to choose from.

I considered doing a "Labor Day sale" for lap dances, but my buddy advised me to not undercut, though I wanted to.  No one seemed to want to know what my sale was.  The people either didn't want dances at all, or they didn't care what the price was.  I guess I'll say goodbye to sales and just call it the $20 dance discount, since I can charge $30 if I want, it would make sense to a logical person that $20 for a dance is a great deal.  It also makes things simple when guys wanna run up a tab.

I'm gonna go back to gouging next week, though.  I did pretty well with my labor day sale since the crowd was younger.  In fact, I didn't experience too much of the "low sales" aspect of labor day weekend.  

I wasn't kidding when I said a lot of my customers were young.  My last customer for the night was three years younger than me.  But he became increasingly annoying because not only was he incredibly naive, he was also drunk.  He was asking if I ever got aroused because of the nature of my job.  Like he never considered the fact I might just be a good actress.  Then when it came time to pay, he took way too long to get money out of the ATM, and we were there til close, so all I could think was, "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GIVE ME THE CASH!  I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Stinkin' children.

Time to shift back into study mode for the week.  God, I love being back in school.  My sense of purpose feels restored.  The trade-off was dealing with alarm clocks and forfeiting all that free time I used to have.  I already had an alarm clock fail and shut it off instead of snoozing.  I was almost late for class for that.  But I'm happy to be back to building my resume.  Very happy.

Back to school woes

Everybody spent all their money on tuition and books this week.  Including me.

I need revenue.  Ha.  The information from my economics class is already sinking in.

So, I went to work tonight, and I'm lucky to have made money.  I didn't expect much since it's the beginning of Labor Day weekend - the worst weekend of the year for sales.  I'm in the trough.

I danced for a guy who had stinky booze breath.  He said he'd do a dance, so when we sat down, I was waiting for the next song to start.  To kill time, I usually chat up my customer.  I kid you not, and I've never heard this in my life.  After a few sentences, he said, "I'm done with interviewing today."

Oookay, I took the hint to shut the fuck up and just dance.  Screw waiting for the next song then.  You don't wanna hear me yap?  Look at my ass.  I thought he was a douche bag.

Another man fell in love.  He didn't want to buy lap dances because he wanted to get to know me outside the club.  Ugh, NO WAY!  I hate booze.  It makes men stupid, but not always with their money.

Another man who was into booties danced with another chick who looks just like me said she likes me likes me.  I can't believe customer gossip, though I would like it to be true.  She's hot.  But I feel like guys make that shit up a lot just because they're in fantasy mode.

I wonder how tomorrow will play out.  I hope it's not terrible.  It probably will be.  Or I'll meet a handsome money prince who will save my night.

That's better... For me.

Tonight was a hit for me!  Hooray!  Pink is the best color for lingerie.  And neon shoes.

I might have a regular, I don't know.  I never believe guys when they say they're coming back again, that way it's always a pleasant surprise when they do return.

I think just about every person tipped more than what I expected.  Pure bliss for me, especially since I had a rough week financially, spending all my money.  Feels good to make a bunch back in a night.

And I still got Saturday tomorrow.  I'm hoping to kick ass again.

Happy Friday everyone, and a happier Saturday.  ;D

Wednesday on a whim

I LOVE working part time.  But even for stripping, working part time means less money.

I got a lot of expenses coming up.  I recently bought a car, now suddenly I have no cash and everyone wants a ton of fuckin money from me.  That must be the summary of everyone's late August.

So I decided to put in a few hours on a very early Wednesday evening, around 5 p.m.  I forgot how creepy day shift guys are.  Creepy, however, still quality (financially).  When I came in, there were no guys in the club, and a handful of dancers.  No big deal, day shift is supposed to be slow, right?

My first customer I got within the first 15 minutes of working.  Some guy in a suit, apparently from Egypt.  He kept trying to push the limits, and then he tried to take a fucking picture of my ass with his cell phone without my consent or knowledge.  I heard the camera click and I told the guy, "I'm sorry, you can't take pictures." He didn't get a clear shot, it was mostly a black screen with a red blur.

Then he stopped getting dances, and I am pretty sure he left.  Probably because I wasn't falling for his stupid games.  Then I ended up doing a dance here and there for a few of the customers that trickled in for the next three hours.  Once 8 o'clock rolled around, I started noticing familiar night shift girls coming in.  Day shift is technically over at 8:30, but most day girls stay until 10:30.  But by 8, I could already tell the dancers were gonna heavily outnumber the two guys in the club.

Last night wasn't a complete waste of time, thankfully.  I'm not used to the longer conversations.  Since I can't just walk away and move on to some other guy, the fast hustle "wanna dance?" is useless when it's light out.  Some guys felt really entitled to just chat my fucking ear off.  One guy explained a part of chemistry that stumped the shit out of me when I took it years ago.  But I ran game a little better and got an extra dance out of it.  Hehe.  

I might do this again later today or I might just wait until tomorrow to kill it.  I gotta go pay some bills, now.  Depends on how cleaned out I feel afterward.

August is a long month

It's such shit.  A lot of low quality guys, once again tonight.

Quit saying no! Omg!  I swear, some men NEED a little bullshitting.  On a few men, I lingered after I bugged for a dance because I feel I shouldn't give up so easy sometimes.  And on a few of those men, it did work, and they ended up spending money on me.

Another handful of men that have danced with me in the past were there tonight.  And they all made me wait over an hour to get a dance with me.  And one of them wouldn't shut up, I felt very stupid to hang around for as long as I did.  I broke one of my own rules and that's sitting around letting people ramble.  I hate to be rude.

We had a lot of new girls working tonight.  A couple of them were on stage with me, and they were working so fucking hard for such small amounts of money.  Full on spreading their legs wide open way too close to the hands of the potentially grabby tippers.  It's not my place to tell them dancing like that is not smart.

The last time I did a move like that on stage, some motherfucker grabbed my pussy with his entire hand.  My inner germaphobe went berserk.  I slapped the shit out of that guy and screamed in his face, "YOU DON'T DO THAT!"

When I complained to the bouncer, he looked at me like it was my fault and said, "You shouldn't have put yourself in that position in the first place." I was just trying to put on a show, but honestly, these guys don't deserve that good of a show for maybe a few dollars.  Even the best of stripper ninjas can't flip out of the way if they're laying down or bending over.

Speaking of bending over, my main selling point is my ass, because I got no tits.  So a lot of times, bending over in front of someone gets me tips.  But I learned I can't do this nude due to the fact PEOPLE TRY TO STICK DOLLARS IN MY CORNHOLE.  People are fucking pigs and I only say people instead of men because one drunk lady tried that shit, and that's when I stopped cutting females slack.  I don't even bother hustling them, unless they want me to.  I find that many chicks only come to the club to just see what the hell really goes on and the games don't work on them.

Anyway, even when I have my panties on, people try to stick dollars in the middle of my crack and I just want to jab them right in the face with my elbow.  Don't worry, I'm well aware that violence is not acceptable in the club.

There were a lot of young guys at the club.  I don't recall seeing many older men tonight.  Interesting.  All the kids came out to play before they go back to school.  A lot of guys I danced for were hot.  Fun.  Though some of them were total jackasses once they started talking.

I'm gonna go catch up on my rest.  I woke up uncomfortably early today.  Damn family.  I took a nap after a big dinner before work, and that really helped me get through the night.  But now I'm crashing and burning.  More news next weekend!  

Scholarly dance

I wore a sexy school girl costume tonight.

Some guys were eating it up, others weren't.  The crowd was lame, again.  I hate running in circles looking at the same dudes that already said no, or later.  Fuck later.  If I leave, some other girl is gonna take his money.  Not what I wanna hear.  I'm incredibly impatient.  I try to hide it.

Some dude said I looked nervous.  Probably because I was full of energy not being used on dances.  I wanted to explode but no one was wanting to play.  

Making money was pretty hard.  I think every guy only did one song.  I hope I'm not getting sloppy.  I've been dancing as lazy as possible on stage.  Like, I leave a lot of dudes hanging when they put a dollar in their mouth and wait for me to put my boobs in his face for it.  Ugh, I'm so over it.  I have a leg garter.  It's where dollars go.  I don't mind the side of my panties, either.  But no more scratching up my poor chest for a measly dollar.  So many dudes don't shave, or wash their faces.  I used to get so much acne when I didn't know better.  Gross.  

I do my thing.  It helps keep my guard up, and take no shit.  I just move how I want, and I'm not hurting myself for anyone.  I see so many girls do such straining moves and I just want to tell them they really don't need to work that hard.  Now I understand if someone is making it rain, then it would motivating enough to bust out some hot moves.  Some guys are fucking scum and don't tip when I dance in front of them.  

Luckily I was patient and made steady, slow money.  I left early because I have to wake up early tomorrow.  Goodnight!

Edit: I completely forgot some highlights of the night.  

One good-looking guy wanted a black girl, and there was one girl sitting with a couple of young dudes and I had a feeling they weren't gonna spend on her, so I interrupted her conversation with the losers and told her to come meet someone.  I introduced them, and I let them be.  About half and hour later, I saw her still doing lap dances with him.  I think he treated her well, and I was psyched to have helped hook her up.  She was really nice to me earlier, so I was happy.  

Oh and there was another cute couple both in love with my ass.  Yes.  I love girls that don't act uptight, even if they're straight.  So I gave her a hot lap dance while she kissed her boyfriend.  I think I like doing couples, ha.  

Yep, I'm bi.  

Hot breath

Anybody else sweating when they go outside?

I have no stripper news.  I plan to work tomorrow.  I've been focused on preparing for college.  Going back for round two, this time for a more valuable skill.  I'm good at math.  Time to capitalize.

I wanna capitalize on some money princes tomorrow night.  Please, money gods, I need you all more than ever.  School is so much more expensive than it was two years ago.  :(

I wonder if a "back to school" hustle would work with older men.  I could play up my sexy student look.  Only one way to find out.

Yep, it's August

Bad night for me.  Other girls were doing fine.  I failed.  Big fat F for tonight.  I could not make money.  I suck at hustling.

The weather is so hot my eyes sweat.  Trying not to admit I cried like a bitch.  I tried pulling myself together, but it was useless.  Every time I tried to not cry, I'd just cry more.  I thought I was strong enough to not cry because money is shitty, but I guess I reached my breaking point.

It didn't help to have a bunch of low-balling pieces of shit treat me like a piece of meat.  I just really hated my job tonight.  I couldn't handle the rejection, not tonight.

I'm on birth control pills, and today was my last reminder pill so I'm thinking the lack of actual hormones is why I couldn't stay emotionally centered.  Chemical PMS, probably.

There is always next time.  Ugh, I just hope I bounce back sooner than later.

Refusing to fail

Oh boy.  Tonight was slooooowwwwww.

I've never seen so many moneymaking bitches sitting around so bored.  The crowd was super lame. 

Most of the night I was getting rejected.  But I persisted beyond my comfort level.  I came in a little early, and I stayed a little late.  I had to.  I made money really quick during my first hour, and during the last few.  

10:30 to 11:30 was great.  I didn't sell another lap dance until 3:00.  Sometimes that is how the night goes.  Working at the strip club is a true test of patience.  There were plenty of men who wanted to talk to me for free.  I had to cut a lot of conversations short tonight.  

I can't say anyone stood out tonight.  The last catch of the night said he was doing blues.  I didn't know those things were still around.  Unless the name changed on me, blues are a type of painkiller, opiate of some sort.  Weird.  I can't understand why people mess with them.  They just make me slow and sweaty.  But hey, everyone has a drug of choice.  To each their own.  He was spending so that made me happy.  

I hope tomorrow night goes well.

Free stripper noob guide

From yours truly, Bella Hack.

I could write a whole book trying to teach you how to not fail at stripping.

I have been in (mostly) and out of the lap dancing industry for almost five years.  Here are my boiled down lessons crammed into one post in effort to help newly starting dancers not make the same stupid mistakes I did.

1. Treat this like you would any other job.  You go in and out at a specific time.  Act professionally, follow the rules, and avoid slacking off.

I bet you weren't handed any paper that says "strip club rules" or tips on how to do well at this job.  No club offered me any formal training.  If you did get a list of rules or in-club stripper training, consider yourself lucky.

2. Do your hair and makeup before going to the club.  The dressing room is not as good as your own bathroom and it never will be.

3. Wear lingerie or dance wear that makes you look and feel sexy.  If you're not being sexy, you're not doing your job.  Do your job.  Look hot.

4. Make sure you have a pair of actual stripper heels.  Pleaser or Ellie brand are good choices.

5. When you leave the dressing room, it's time to shine.  Put on your confident face and look for prospective customers.  If you're auditioning on stage, move slowly and don't try anything you don't know how to do.  First impressions are crucial.  Get ready to schmooze.

6. Go for the big, easy money.  If your club sells champagne rooms, that should be your first suggestion whenever you talk to a customer.  Don't spend much time on chit chat.  The less time you spend chatting for free, the better.  Save the conversation for the time he pays for.

If your club doesn't have rooms and it's lap dances by the song, sell "package deals" for the time increment you think you can stand.  Some guys are total tools and are not worth more than one song, even if they want to continue.  But be creative and fair (to yourself) with your prices.

7.  Always ask for a tip when you finish a lap dance.  Last chance to get a bonus.  Better ask or you won't receive.

8.  Don't give out your phone number.  Be professional.  It is unprofessional to give your phone number out.  Tell them to come visit you at the club if they want to see you again so badly.

9.  During a lap dance, do not let guys break the rules.  If you let them, they will always think their misbehavior is okay.  It's not.  Speak the fuck up, you don't want to have to make the manager or bouncer come save you.  Try not to get into the situation in the first place.

10.  You booze you lose!  I really don't think I need to explain this.  I've regretted every night I got wasted at work.  How stupid and unprofessional.  I never made money on the nights I got drunk.  If I did make money, I didn't remember how.  Just don't drink.  If you do, limit it to three drinks and make sure you're not driving home.  Cops make so much money off DUIs.  Don't be a victim.

11.  Don't bring drugs to the club!  How awful would it be to have a bag of weed in your purse tucked away in your locker on the night the cops come in with dogs and raid your club?  Raids are real and they happen all the time.  Even if they were looking for worse things, you'd be going to jail with the junkies and prostitutes.

12.  Always have someone from the security staff walk you to your car when you leave.

13. Never, ever meet a customer outside the club.  A lot of girls bend this rule, and it usually bites back.  If you meet a customer outside the club, you are dealing this person without security staff to protect you in case he wants to rape you.  Other times, the man wants free attention or is willing to pay you to fuck him.  They are headaches that want to suck up your time.  Fuck that.  That is why you set aside time to work at the club.  

14. Track your income each night and set aside money for taxes.  This isn't a paycheck job where taxes are taken out for you already.  It's up to you to pay the man.  And if you don't pay and get caught, you either pay more later or go to prison.  Be smart, pay your taxes.  

15. Take care of yourself.  Work out regularly.  Get enough sleep each night... Or morning.  Eat the right foods.  If you disobey this, fat lists will be in your future.  It hurts to get called fat, especially if you're not.  No more splurging on sweets and fried foods.  Your job depends on it.

16. Build your non-dancing resume.  This isn't a bad career, but it's not a lasting one.  Always think about your future.  What do you want to do and where do you want to be in the next five, ten, twenty years?  This is a great job for women working their way through college.  I highly encourage college.  

That's about all I can think of for now.  I'll have a complete guide that I'm gonna sell for a lot less than the other stripping guides out there.  I think this is enough for now.  

Hope you newbies found this helpful.  Hope you readers found this somewhat entertaining AND informative.

Crazy night

So many things out of the ordinary happened tonight.  I am a very lucky lady.

One of the ladies that works at the club got robbed.  I am so lucky it wasn't me.

I feel nervous, now.  I'm glad tonight was Saturday so I won't be back until Thursday night.  They better have tightened up the security by the time I return.

I had a fan from last night return to make it rain.  Well, his "friends" were sort of making it rain.  But they were being complete jackasses to me.  One guy kept slapping my ass with his thick stack of ones, and it hurt!  And of course EVERYONE wants to slap the fuck out of my ass when they see one person do it.  But I as I was cleaning up the pile of ones that I took too much abuse for, the guy from last night started bugging me for birthday sex.  Puke.  Ugh.  So after I gathered all the ones, I got off the stage, went to the bathroom to straighten out the bills and traded them out.  I deliberately avoided him because I was really sick of that conversation.  But thanks for the money shower.  Happy fucking birthday, now go home and jack off.

In other news, a tourist from California was smitten by my southern charm and he tipped me generously.  Then he introduced me to his girlfriend (I think?).  They both wanted me to give her lap dances.  Turned out it was her 18th birthday.  I made it a really good birthday for her.  She was writhing with pleasure as I grinded my booty up and down her pussy.  She also got to make out with her boyfriend while I did it.  This lap dance was so hot, some broke ass wanker was watching because I wasn't doing the dance in a private room, so I shot him a dirty look that hopefully sent a message sounding like, "Tip if you're gonna stare, perv."

I felt like Lilith from True Blood.  I was getting my dyke on hardcore, almost getting off to my own lap dance, sinking my teeth into the juicy fun my job can sometimes offer.  I love my job!  

And in other news, thank god for regulars, otherwise I would have sworn this was a shitty weekend worth skipping.  It certainly had the potential to suck.  There were a ton of losers that wouldn't budge when I asked them to dance, and a bunch of dudes sitting at the stage not interested in tipping.  So not fun.  Guys like them make my job hard.  Dear money gods, bring more hot bisexual 18-year-olds with rich boyfriends.  

"One hour minimum"

That's what this Turkish guy kept telling me.  I was most definitely his type.  

I found this winner at the stage, and I began the conversation before the waitress even served him, even though we are technically supposed to wait for each customer to have been served by the waitress.  Oops.  But when it's busy, you can't keep up with every person that walks through the door.  How am I supposed to know this guy just showed up?  

Either way, the waitress approached him right after my first sentence which was, "Hey, would you like a lap dance?" 

I felt like I was coming off too strong too fast so I turned around to walk away, and he said, "Wait, don't get lost yet."

He expressed interest really quickly, so we got to the dances really quick.  He was a chain dancer.  Score.  But after each song, he got increasingly creepy.  At first he was admiring my ass, then my neck, then he started imagining what our sex life would be like if I were to be his wife.  

Oh boy, when you have been on vacation for a week like me, getting back into the swing of things can take a few days.  I didn't give myself any days to do that, and listening to this guy describe the way HE would like to have sex, and I kept laughing in his face every time he would say something completely wrong.  It was a bit draining to try to keep acting, but hey, I'm getting paid so I'll dodge propositions all night long til he gives up, because when guys think about sex, they don't wanna stop, and then they wanna manifest those thoughts into reality... With me... And I soo do not like having sex for an hour.  My pussy would be so raw and sore I'd kill him halfway through.  

He kept saying "one hour minimum sex with me every day."   Like I don't have a tight fucking schedule already.  But of course it's his fantasy, so I play along, but I am laughing every time he says it.  

I'm guessing that men get racist in the club since nudity is acceptable.  But this man mentioned he was Turkish, and that he is very brutal.  

My turn to be racist.  He did not seem to respond positively when I mentioned I was going to school. 

He did not take my rejection lightly.  He said he hated me when he handed me the money.  I think he would have hated me more if I had led him on because the whole time I dodged his propositions by saying that I'm a lap dancer only.  I feel like I'm doing them the favor.  Maybe I should just spoil the end by saying, "You go home and jack off tonight."

And tonight was wanker exploiter night.  I think everyone I danced for really tried to get me to fuck them outside the club.  Since it's rent week of the worst month of the year, the predators figured the strippers would be easy this weekend.  I wonder how annoying tomorrow night will be.  

Ya know what else is funny, is the 24-yo handsome young man headed to med school expressing mad interest in me repeatedly refuses to get a dance with me, and he STILL asked me for my phone number so that he could take me on a date.  And that poor sucker shouldn't have asked me that while I was WORKING.  I was so vicious with an icy rejection.  I even made fun of him while talking about him to my friend about ten feet away right after it happened.  I hope he learned that "you gotta pay to play... Stupid." 

Overall, the night was good for me.  I caught a few big fish and a few small ones, and I didn't have too long of a break in between.  I'm glad I stayed busy, because vacations are expensive.  

What is wrong with me?

I'm just now getting around to writing about Saturday night.  I got some explaining to do.

Bad stripper, bad blogger, right here, ladies and gentlemen.  Let me tell you why.

On Saturday night, I showed up late.  Unbelievably late, like I missed half my shift being a fat, lazy fuck.  My roommate is a bad influence.  We got a deep fryer.  I'm from the south.  I HAD to have some fish fry and REAL onion rings before work and it took a lot longer to do than I expected.

So coming in late, that was mistake number one.  Since I had a tummy full of deep fried guilt, I refrained from having my usual Red Bull because I was afraid that would cause an upset stomach.  Red Bull already gives me an upset stomach by itself.  But with nothing to jack me up, I got really bored really quickly with the people in my club.

The crowd was about half of what it should be for a Saturday night, and the guys that were there were a bunch of non-spending "regulars" that I hate seeing.  They don't even deserve the name "regulars" in my opinion.  They are just returning trolls.  Completely useless if they're not spending on me or my co-workers.

One of them is a younger, decent looking dude (still a loser) so I picked him to bitch at, because I was getting bored trying to hustle.  So I talked shit with him for about a song, unloading my negativity on him about this other guy who gives the world's shittiest back massage and wasted a lot of my time when I tried to hustle him.  Then I realized what I was doing wasn't going to make me any money, so I figured I'd just take my break early, after only being there for about an hour.

I asked if I could go on break, and I usually pay my house fee when I do this so that I don't rip them off in case I don't come back.  Very rarely do I actually stay home.  But this time I did.  And I didn't pay my house.  Another stripper mistake.  Bad stripper!

So I did not make use of a potentially good Satruday because I was being a lazy, bad stripper.  I should have went back to work instead of passing out on my couch.  I should have pushed through my tired, burned-out attitude, and I should have drank that stupid Red Bull.

I get a D for performance.  I would have given myself an F if I didn't make what I did during that hour I was there.  I could have done a lot better, but I didn't, all because of my "fuck this shit" attitude.

I remember taking a math class back in college.  The professor said the way to be successful in his class was to attend class and office hours, do the assignments, and have a good attitude.

I underlined that because it's probably the most important suggestion.  I saw a lot of people fail even though they had the brains and the time to learn the material, but they hated math, so they still got bad grades.

And I'm going on vacation next week.  To escape more strip club hell, to repair my soul, and to empty my wallet.  I doubt I'm gonna go in during the week to make some spending cash because it's the summer and I don't like being in a club swimming with sharks with nothing but shrimp to feast on.  I still have time to shake my "fuck it" attitude, so I might work the few days before I leave because reality will eventually hit me.  It always does.

Winners and losers

Last night the club had a combination of winners and losers.  I ran into more losers than I did winners.

Luckily I only needed to meet one winner to make up for the bullshit I got from the losers.

Some guy short-changed me five dollars for a few dances, and he STILL had the nerve to ask me to meet him outside the club (OTC).  Lately I haven't been getting creepy invites to meet OTC.  Tonight that was my only one, from (you guessed it) the biggest loser.

"Any chance of you meeting me outside of here?" dumb fuck asked me trying to act all slick.

"No, dude, you didn't even tip me, let alone pay in full," I said, then turned away to move on to better customers.

I should have told him to keep the ones he paid me with and dragged him to the ATM.  I'm too nice.

Should have, would have, could have.

There were also a lot of pervs not tipping on stage.  That's always annoying, especially when it's a bunch of guys that showed up together.  Don't tell me to back it up and do all this shit when you and all your little wanker friends don't have any money out.  Learn to motivate a bitch!

I almost called this one older brown man "Mr. Tightpockets" because he kept staring at my naked ass while I was on stage, clearly enjoying the view.  He even watched his friend tip me, and didn't tip when I stretched out my garter for his money.  It takes a certain kind of stingy to not tip a stripper that demands a dollar, especially if she is actually dancing.  I can understand the drugged-out train wreck that bounces for one second not deserving the tip, but come on.  I put enough style and finesse into my moves that get a man's mojo going.  I'm DOING my job, dammit.  I deserve to get paid handsomely.

Running out of ideas

Does that mean I should work at the titty club more?

If any of you have read long enough, y'all might know that working too much has its downfalls.  Making more money really only makes up for those downfalls to a certain extent.  

It's psychologically draining.  I can only deal with the conversations so often.  I can only put up with the uninvited ass grabs for so long before I starting growling and hissing at my potential customers like a stray cat that just made a kill.  God... Sometimes I want to go all feral on some of these guys.  

Don't touch me, douche bag!

It's also physically demanding to work too often.  All that hip gyration takes a toll on certain hip muscles.  Thank goodness my workout program has helped spring those muscles back.  I'm sure I could get past the physical problems.  It's not just hip problems.  My poor feet and those brutal spike shoes. 

I can't wait for school.  I love school.  I love getting A's.  

Crap, I just remembered that last weekend I gave a lap dance to a guy who said he was taking the same major as me.  Fabulous.  This really makes me want to strip outside of town, like a lot of dancers do.  But I'd like to spearhead the movement of "not awkward moments" if someone from my class recognizes me when I'm at school.  

If it happens, I'm prepared to not feel ashamed, look the guy dead in the eyes and say, "So when are you coming back to the club?  Got another buddy getting married yet?"

Anything to relieve tension... And to save my future career.  It's so hard to be taken seriously when people know I strip.  Saying that makes me want to quit, but I really do enjoy my job when I'm not burned out.  I enjoy making that fast cash in such a fun way.  

I could be a cubicle slave making $11 an hour if I'm lucky.  Or waitressing.  I hear about waitresses getting turned out by pimps more than I hear about strippers getting turned out.  They also work harder for less money, most of the time.  

I think stripping is the job for me, while I'm young.  I can't do this forever, we all know that.  But I feel that I've got the balls and the body to do it and I shouldn't be punished career-wise because of it.  

Sleeping at night

I used to think it was so hard to do, especially after working all night over the weekend.

Last night I slept like a normal person: at night.  It was great!  I don't feel all mental now.

Now to do some car shopping.  I totally sold my bike that almost got stolen.  Nothing more unsettling than the feeling that your shit may get jacked while you're sleeping... Or working like in my case.

I put that damn bike up on Craigslist priced to sell, got a call the next day, sold it the day after that.

Now I need a car.  I'm done with bikes.  I had a fun run, but I live in a city where traffic would have eventually ended my life.  Next time I get a motorcycle is when I'm old and about to retire.  My crotch rocket days are over.

It's crazy that I had a motorcycle for this long.  It was totally bad for my job.  What if some ass hole ran a red light or a stop sign and I got hurt?  I wouldn't be able to dance with road rash, broken bones, or no head.  Yeah, scary thought, I know.

Now I can comfortably sleep at night.

Playing my game

I came to work late tonight.  It's good I didn't come in later, because it was really good the first hour.  There were at least three young, nice looking men that wanted a dance with me after I got off stage.

Decisions, decisions.  Who do I pick first, and who do I make wait?

The first guy I picked was the most attractive, and he seemed like the most definite yes, and the most fun to dance for.  He only got one song, but tipped well and didn't give me any bullshit so I was happy I danced for him first.

My boss caught me before I could get to the next guy and made me go back on stage again.

The next guy I danced for (#2) was also a pretty easy sell, since he was staring me down while I was back on stage, and he was tipping better than everyone else.  And he was also really attractive.

The third guy was kind of a douche during my first round of stage, so I figured I'd "keep getting intercepted" so he had to wait forever for a lap dance.

"Hey, sexy, how much is a dance with you?" guy #3 asked.

"$30."

He seemed surprised.  "You gotta sell it, then.  I need you to convince me."

I did not feel like being a saleswoman.  I was so spoiled from the other people I didn't have to convince.  At that point, he either wants one or he doesn't.

"You get this beautiful ass grinding on your lap, baby.  Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah, come see me when you get off."

"I already got off."

See what I did there?!

That was the conversation we had during my first stage set.  The next set, after I danced for #1, #3 was obviously waiting for me and looked surprised to see me back on stage.

"I've been waiting for you to come see me, I thought we had something going on, like a connection.

OMG you loser!

"No, baby, I just want your money," I said as I tilted my head.

"Well I've got money, honey."

I took off and collected singles from all the other stage mongers til my set finished then I walked off for two songs with guy #2, hoping it would horribly tease #3.  He was the douchiest of them all, so I delighted in making him wait.  I was enjoying playing my game.

Eventually I gave guy #3 a dance, and of course he had to ask me my favorite question, "wanna go with me to my hotel room?"

UGH NO!

"Sorry, babe, I can't.  It's against the rules."

I took the money and walked away once the song finished.  The douches are so easy to walk away from.

In other news, this drunk girl was tipping me, but she wanted me to camp in front of her the whole time I was on stage.  I got other dudes to collect from, ugh.  But it wasn't so bad looking like a total lesbian playing with the girl's boobs.  That was a show, too.  The guys were diggin it.

The night got pretty slow pretty quick.  At 3:45, it was almost cleared out, which doesn't usually happen until 4:45.  And I wasn't done making money.  It took me so long to get one last dance to hit my minimum goal.

Fuck summer.  Ugh.  Even the boss lady was saying its been pretty dead.  I wonder how tomorrow night will be.

One year anniversary

It's been one year since my manager pulled me aside to tell me my thighs and tummy were gonna get me fired.

One year later, I'm confident I won't be fat listed.  My thighs could still be better, but my abs are rockin.  I have butt lift to thank.  Not my diet.  I love dessert so much.  But I have lain off the bad snacks like chips and cookies.  I haven't had a loaf of bread in my kitchen for a while, either.

Fuck grains.  I've been reading the paleo solution, which is a diet consisting of hunter-gatherer foods. It blames agriculture for fucking up the human body.  I blame corporate America pushing corn and wheat on us, and the makers of toaster strudels.

Pillsbury products make you fat.

On another note, I did make it to work last night.  It was a pretty good win, especially for it being the end of June.

Life ain't too bad.

Quality over quantity

I'm talking about customers.  Tonight probably would have sucked like all the other nights if I didn't catch those big fishes.

Lucky me.  Some of the girls who always seem to do well had shitty nights.  Crazy.  There were a lot of worthless lookie-loos, though.  That may have been it.  I was spinning in circles looking for my big fish for a while, too.

I'm also lucky I didn't have anything traumatic happen to me.  One guy wanted the cheap price and I could tell he wanted to treat me like a piece of meat, so I raised, and he declined, so I declined.  I guess I'm a bad stripper for saying no?

I feel like my hustler balls dropped a little there.  They would've dropped more if I had convinced him to pay, but he was most definitely not sold.  Whatever, time to move on.

One guy really wanted to make me come three times, and it's like, why?  No one is allowed to finger me or do any of that shit, so it really seems pointless to get the hopes up for it.  All I wanted to say was, "shut the fuck up, loser, it's not happening."

But what I really said was, "You know what would make me cum?  If you paid me three times."

But apparently that was too difficult on his end, of course.  Stupid pervert.

I'm pretty pleased with how tonight turned out.  It was better than I expected.  Let's hope tomorrow turns out to be great, too.

Month of hell

I used to call every super busy month that.  I think I'm due for a month of hell.  I haven't done shit lately.

When I began college, November was the month of hell for the fall semester and April was the month of hell for spring, and July for the summer.

Well, July is coming up but I'm not in school.  I'm not expecting July to be a month of hell as far as stripping goes.  You would think July qualifies, but August makes July look like an easy month.  August is the real month of hell for strippers.

I have never had so many bad nights til August, unless you count last February.  That was a really disappointing month for me.  Then March came around and I completely forgot how shitty February was.  September was a lot better than August, too.

I need to make a new plan.  I feel so lost for what I'm supposed to do until school begins.  I have exactly two months.  I have a vacation planned, but I have GOT to save up some cash.  I don't want to borrow if I can avoid it.  I probably will, but it's not gonna be a colossal amount like I used to borrow.  Interest is so fucking ugly.

So I should work more.  During the summer.  It seems so backwards, because the summer is slow, so my motivation to go to work is low.  Working during the week during the summer feels like such a waste of time.  I look at all the days I worked during the week during the summer, and every night I made below average.  Ugh.  All the girls at work have been complaining, too.  I just don't want to subject myself to that kind of misery.  That's how bitches get burned out.

But contrary to how shitty it may be, I must suck it up and just go to work.  It only takes one customer to turn a bad night into a good one.  I can't miss out on those opportunities just because the odds of getting one are a lot lower.  At least I'm not playing poker for a living.  Bad nights for poker players include losing ALL of their cash they took three nights to make.

I have exactly nine weekends until school begins.  One of them is for vacation, so I really have eight work weekends.  I used to do so well with the Thurs-Fri-Sat stretch.  I think I'm gonna have to throw in Thursday nights, even though they SUCK.  Even a little money is better than none.  I might be miserable, but I won't be broke AND miserable.  Besides, it's the summer.  I will NEED to work extra just to keep up with bills.

So send me some motivation, willpower, stamina, and most importantly, a good work ethic.  

Why I keep crawling back

Money.  That's why I keep coming back.  That has never changed.  I'll tell you what else hasn't changed.  Summer being poop for money.

Tonight we had a super moon, the summer moon.  It was a late night for me.  The sun was up before 6 a.m.  It's definitely summer.  I can thank regulars for god tonight.  Club regulars.  I have no personal regulars, which is sad.  It's only because I work in a highly competitive club.  I'm sure if I worked somewhere more regulars based, I'd have a few good men coming to see me every week or two.

Usually whenever there is a full moon, I expect chaos, and a lot of bull shit.  But sometimes, good money flows with the full moon.  Not so much tonight.  So many guys, so many rejections.  Fine, I don't wanna dance for you anyway!

I didn't get much rest last night.  I was not firing on all cylinders.  I felt like my game sucked, I felt fat, not interested.  I kept trying to correct my body language since I am supposed to be dominant, confident and irresistible.  But I was so tired, turned off, and pissed off.  Not good.

I'm still a little bitter from last night.  I am so happy I'm done working this weekend.  Back to soul repair.