After stripping ends

I usually use my nights off to lurk and watch Netflix.  There's this movie called After Porn Ends and since I'm technically a porn star, I figured I should take a look.

I'm not gonna do a full movie review, I'm too narcissistic to dedicate my blog to such things.  But I did learn something from watching this film: GET QUALIFIED for a real fucking job.  Something I can do when I'm 64.  NOW IS THE TIME.

Before the film was even over, I started searching online for some promising careers, since I'm doing so well at journalism.  I wanna go back to school and start fresh.  No more bullshit.  I don't want a dream job anymore, I want a real job so I can make my dreams come true at any time in life.

I'm going back to college to really invest in my future this time.  I don't care if I owe more money to student loans.  I'm pot committed at this point.  I might as well go back and get the right qualifications for a career in health care.  

If I've learned anything from stripping, it's that there is money to be made when there is a DEMAND for something.  I've done my share of filling the demand for temporary sensual company.  Despite how fast I make the money when business is good, it's really not worth the risk or the reward.  I'm not saving enough, I don't have enough, and I'm losing my competitive edge (youth).  It's time to supply a new demand.

People don't stop getting sick.  People need healing, and I think I can fill that demand for the rest of my life AND make better money than dancing if I get the proper training now.  I read that dental hygienists make decent money for the level of training required and work normal hours.  Surgeons and physicians make even more.  

Before I ever considered dancing, before I was old enough to dance, I wanted to be in health care.  I loved studying the human body.  I should have never stopped.  I let that F in calculus bring me to think pre-med was too hard of a major.  Nothing is too hard when a lot of money is at stake.  I believe my brain can handle science courses now that I've watched everything on the science channel.  I also have enough college experience to do it right second time around.  

The most popular piece of advice I've gotten from those who have heard my "I don't know what to do with my life" speeches is to "follow your passion, do what truly motivates you." 

Seems like such a hard thing to do, figure out what I'm really passionate about.  I used to think it was sex, then money.  But one thing that remains true beyond human passion is survival.  The will to survive isn't in just humans but in all living things.  There will come a time in someone's life when their survival depends on my surgery.  Saving a life seems priceless but in the world of health care, a price can be put on any procedure.  I'm motivated to save lives.  I would get a thrill out of it, and my patient even more so.  They would be happier than if I were to have given them an orgasm.  And I didn't have to get naked to do it!

I'm starting to draw up plans to get financial aid and re-registration done so I can get back in the classroom this fall.  I've had enough time and fun being a stripper with a stagnant professional life.  Time to wake up and change that.  I can't do this forever.  

Laundry Friday

During the time I should've been at work, I was doing the laundry.  My mood is better.  I'm glad I didn't have a shitty night at the club.  My back still feels like I worked, though.

I think every garment I own needed to be washed.  I love having clean panties.  Clean socks, towels, blankets, BED SHEETS omg they should've been washed weeks ago.  >.<

Though I didn't make any money stripping tonight, I still feel like I made some progress getting my chores done.

Tomorrow will be a fun day.  It's my annual celebration day AND it's Saturday, and we all know how much I fuckin love Saturdays.

Victims of wallet rape

It's about that time of year when Pisceans are being born and having birthdays.  And one of the traits of being a Pisces is being a bit psychic.  I was reading people's faces and all the guys walking from the lap dance area had that "I just got raped" look.

Tonight wasn't much different from last night.  Guys were completely stingy.  I was also able to read "I'm protecting my wallet" off all their faces.  I didn't make shit.  My hustle failed tonight.

My credit card running skills were good, though.  I figured out how to go run and grab my square without my customer running off without paying (because they tend to do that once they leave your sight).  TAKE HIS FUCKING CARD to the dressing room and get the phone and card reader.  It might make me look sketchy, but it is fool-proof on getting paid and it's not like I take it and make secret charges.  I like being legit.  Keeps me outta trouble.

One girl saved me from having a complete fail night.  We teamed up on a couple guys and she did all the talking and scored us a little cash.  She seems like a pro, I forgot to ask her how long she's been dancing, but it has to be longer than me.  

Why can't I be a natural seller?  I think I'm getting caught up in the "it's a shit night" mood and forgetting that I still have time to turn it around and make it a great night.

I'm probably still gonna take tomorrow off.  I shouldn't because my money says I should catch up.  But I'm not taking the risk of 4/4 bad Fridays.  My good Friday is tomorrow.

Working on hump day

I worked tonight.  I didn't expect to be working with so many other girls but I guess they all had the same idea as me: go in on Wednesday to get a good head start for the week.

It was too slow for the amount of girls working.  I managed to sell a few dances but not enough.  I guess making something is better than sitting on my ass watching TV all night.

I am thinking about taking Friday off.  I don't want to, but so far this month, every Friday night has sucked.  And I need to celebrate my birthday.  I think I'll get piss drunk.  I need to let my hair down once in a while.  I can't be corporate all the time.

No stand-out personalities tonight.  More loser game runners.  Someone wanted me to sit on his lap for free.  I had a feeling he wasn't gonna buy a dance anyway so I took off.  I don't like to walk away when it's slow because there were no guys.  I probably shouldn't expect a lot on Wednesday nights anyway, but I can still refuse to put up with bullshit.

Anyway, looks like my club is going virtual.  Apparently I can get paid online to do webcam dances. I'm not so sure if I like that idea, especially because the cam service wants 60% of online sales.  Seems more worth it to do in-person dances for cash.  But I'll still take all the online tips I can get.

I really don't want to mix my blogger identity with my online-stripper identity.  I say some mean things about customers here and I don't think that would increase my business.  I don't want my customers to know what I'm really thinking!  I love acting - it's my favorite part of stripping.  Or maybe the fast cash.  I think that's what I really like most about my job.

Party on Saturday!

I forgot all that bullshit from last night and it worked in my favor.  Tonight started off a bit slow, but I remained vigilant and started making money later in the night.

The only bad thing that happened was someone tried to tip me with change.  He slipped 4 quarters in my panties and as soon as I saw that I just put the change right back in front of him.  WTF get a dollar from the door girl, jerk.

Saturday nights are always big party nights for everyone and so many people are drunk and/or high.  These two chicks snuck up on me while I was searching for customers and they started tipping me and dancing up on me.  Then one of the girls started rubbing her muff on me, getting into it... HOT!

I started to notice we were stealing the show and they pointed me toward their boyfriends but they were a bit spent by the time I got to them.  So I told them their girlfriends were wet.  Maybe they'll take them home if they're really done spending.

Lots of bachelor groups wanted me to "take care of" their man of honor.  Thank goodness.  They were easy money tonight.  Super drunk and high.  Right on, party it up.

Butt lift is paying for itself.

I wonder about some of the girls who always complain.  Apparently a few girls did so poorly they couldn't afford tip out... And I'm thinking, "how?  I made money, how was it bad for you?"

I guess I got lucky or my game was working tonight.  I've had horrible nights when other girls were making bank.  It happens all the time, so I guess I could relate.  The bouncer says I got good game.  I think I'm just getting better at my job.  Practice.  And butt lift.  I want to tell my co-workers, but only if they ask.  I shouldn't help my competition too much.  But then again I would like to do my workouts with a stripper buddy once in a while.

I smell like customers so I'm gonna get my hot sexy ass in the shower.  Tonight was awesome.  I love you, Saturday, thanks for being reliable!

Sit on my lap

... For free.

NO.  Just no.

I didn't feel like playing that game but all the guys who showed up did.  Except for my saint of a regular.  He was the only guy who was good to me.

Some stupid old guy tried to sell me life insurance.  I was 100% sure I needed to get away from him as soon as he said, "come back and see me, I'll get your number, we can set up a meeting at Denny's and it'll only take 15 minutes to sign up."

WHAT THE FUCK!?!?

I don't want to
A. Come back and see you if you're not buying
B. Give you my phone number
C. Meet you at Denny's
D. Give you my fucking money for life insurance

Tonight was not a money night.  Since there were no girls working last night, they all showed up to work tonight.  The feeding grounds weren't very plentiful either so all that was working against me tonight.  I hate to say I failed, but I feel like I did.  Better luck tomorrow, I hope.

And I had one of those "what the fuck was I thinking" moments.  We ALL have them.

Last night one of the newer girls asked to borrow my cell phone.  It was late so I thought she was calling for a ride home.  It turns out she was using it for business and I got a bunch of text messages from her fucking customer asking me to have this girl call him back and that he's been waiting for her and she took all his money and all this stuff I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW.  I'm lucky he didn't keep blowing up my phone.

This is why I don't let bitches borrow my cell phone.  Too bad for the customer, but it's his fault he let that bitch play him.  I just wish I didn't have to know about it.  It's not my business and I don't want any part of it.  Stupid ass holes.  I'm so mad at that bitch for using my phone to play a customer.  And she took a long time using it, too.  No more lending out my phone.  Lesson relearned.  I can't trust anyone and I wish I could.

Enough whining.  I think it got it all out of my system.  I don't need any negativity from tonight running over into tomorrow.  I love Saturday night.

Valentine's day worked for me.

I went to work like a good girl and it paid off.  I had a good Valentine's day.

There wasn't a very big crowd but there weren't very many dancers working, either.  So I had a good night, no trouble staying busy.  In fact, when it got close to closing time, a guy wanted me to dance for him along with another dancer for his friend but I couldn't find one that wasn't already doing lap dances for someone else, which is very rare because there is usually a surplus of dancers, just not in the last hour.

There were many tourists tonight.  I danced for a few guys from Australia, and one guy from Canada who showed me how you can't rip their new currency.  Canadian money will always look like Monopoly money to me.

I can't think of anything else that was out of the ordinary.  It was a good, RELAXING night.  Not a slow night.

Happy Valentine's day!

And fuck Valentine's day for those that are single.   I said it when I was.

But this year I got a little box of chocolates, which is exactly what I wanted.  Besides jewelry, but I already have plenty.  My birthday is right around the corner anyway.  

I don't recall working valentines day in the past, but tonight is Thursday night, a work night.  I've been skipping Thursdays lately.  I've only worked two Thursdays since this year started - one was the worst, one was the best Thursday I've ever had.  Despite how it turns out, I need to be a responsible stripper and go to work tonight.  

Single men will be wanting some company.  It's my duty to take their cash and be a hottie.  I just hope I don't get a thousand propositions instead of dollars.  

I don't wanna say I've been half-assing my butt workout... I skipped Monday's workout, but I don't really feel too bad since I get extra exercise when I work.  I'm confident I won't get fat listed now, which is really the main reason I got the exercise program.  I've lost an inch around my waist and my hips/ass since I started it. 

My allergy sickness went away.  Thank goodness.  I didn't need that weighing me down.  

So it's good news so far.  I'll post about tonight when I get home from work.  Until then, enjoy your Valentine's Day!

Never forget the shoes

Tonight was a pretty good night.  I finally made some frickin money worth bragging about.

I got hungry halfway through my shift so I took a lunch break.  When I came back, I couldn't find my heels.  I thought I took them with me, but they weren't in my car.  I looked all over the dressing room and still no luck.  

I really hope some bitch didn't loot them.  There were a lot of new girls working and many of them work only a few shifts before getting fired.  A lot of them steal and never come back.

Shoes aside, the show still must go on.  I finished the night in my flip flops.  We are allowed to wear almost anything we want and I had only one guy at the stage complain, who was a total douche bag anyway.  What is wrong with looking like I just came from the beach?  Earlier, I saw him chuck a crumpled dollar bill at one of the dancers on stage so I knew he was gonna be a douche.

There were many young guys near the end of the night and I'm surprised some of them got lap dances from me.  There was a bachelor group of guys hot enough to be gay.  A couple of them were completely sold when I asked for a dance.

And my last customer was a returning one, always the best.  A college boy who waits tables.  He was a wow nerd back in the day, too.  I told you my nerd charm makes me money.

It was freaky how much he had in common with me.  I knew the juke box was about to run out of music so I knew I had control over what the club hears and what I'd be doing lap dances to.  So I dragged him over to the juke box and suggested playing Chevelle because that band has been making me wet since I was 14.

He was like, "You can't be serious.  Chevelle is my favorite band."

This was too easy.  "I own every album they've ever made."

He was too young, though.  21 was sexy when I was 18.  I'm almost 25.  Way too old.  I was fantasizing about getting an older Kevin Spacey look-alike as my bread winner before I came in tonight.  I know, I should have more realistic expectations.  

I'm honestly glad my night with people ends when the club closes, because college boy was inviting me to his hotel and I just didn't wanna have sex with him.  I remember having sex with 21-year-olds.  I think they were all bad experiences, too.  He needed to shave, shower, brush his teeth and be ten years older.  Otherwise, he would be a good buddy, but not for sex.  More like carrying me through a dungeon for my new epic weapon.

Tonight I also had an allergy fail.  Right after I got off stage, someone wanted me to dance for a cute young lady and my throat was itching bad.  I had to cough, a lot, and I was trying to hold it back, but I couldn't keep the poker face.  I excused myself to the bathroom and coughed til I almost puked, wiped down my face and got a piece of hard candy (sub for cough drop) from the men's room attendant, and got back to my lady custie.  Luckily, she was cool about it.

So yeah, I had quite the night.  Time for bed, the sun's up.

"This is why I stopped working Friday."

I recall hearing my hottie big tits co-worker saying that earlier tonight because all the guys in the club were broke losers.

This other drunk girl I work with once said in the dressing room, "if you think it will happen, it will."

I had a feeling tonight would be somewhat of a bust and I was correct.

My allergy-suffering body was telling me not to go to work.  But I went in for a few hours anyway and did my best with what I had to work with.

Once again, we had an army of strippers ready to take every last cent out of the wallets that walked in.  We are too good at our jobs.  Most of the guys came and went pretty fast so the crowd was quite thin for a Friday night.

I was hoping to get some customers from Boston or New York so I could remind them of how lucky they are to be here in the warm, sunny south instead the blizzard that's covering their homes.

Instead I got a German tourist who was happy to spend a bunch of money on me.

Tomorrow night should be much better.

Under the weather

Under the big cloud of pollen.  I suppose it's better than the cloud of snow up north.  It's good to be a southern girl... With allergies.

It's getting harder to breathe, nose is running more, my face... Ow.

My body is literally fucking sick.  I don't think it's a cold or flu, though.  So I can work tonight and not feel bad about spreading biological warfare to my competition.  I wouldn't feel bad if I did, but not everyone I work with deserves to feel this drained.

Of course I didn't go to work last night.  Not enough energy, as the rogues used to say. (That was a WoW reference because I am a NERD).  I have not touched that game in a year or so.  I still have yet to meet an exotic dancer who got into it.  I feel like I'm the only one.  I've shocked the hell out of some nerdy young customers dropping some WoW lingo.  

I feel gross.  Why did I have to get so sick right before my work weekend?  Excuse me, I gotta blow my nose.  

I'm gonna go pop about 4 zyrtecs before I go in.

Lots of exercise

My butt lift program is going well.  I don't suck at the moves anymore.  I can't wait til I can do all the workouts without running out of breath.  I used to have great stamina during my cross country runner days.

I can almost pass what's called "the pencil test."


The pencil test is where you take a pen or pencil and set it right under the butt cheek while standing up.  If you can hold the pencil in that spot without hands, your butt could use a lift.

Though when I searched for this picture, some bloggers found the test to be a bullshit way to make girls feel bad about themselves.  I don't feel bad for having a big booty.  I got all this ass and I need to keep it UP.  But I don't feel bad about myself, I think it's a fun challenge.

So I'm not safe yet.  It's only day 27 of 60.  I don't notice a big difference in the back of my thighs, but everywhere else is starting to tone up.  My abs and arms are popping out a little, so I'm glad I'm making progress.

In other news, pollen has been rampant lately.  I'm getting cold symptoms; a sore throat, but it's the scratchy kind.  I got some Benadryl so I'll be sleeping soon.  I hope I don't get worse because I should be working tomorrow night.

I could use some luck.  I'm going broke.  I can't go broke.

Slump in sales

Ugh.  That's all I have to say.

This weekend's earnings are as shitty as the overflowing septic tank at Starbucks.  Seriously, any coffee shop should triple the Rid-X budget.  One of my relatives is a devout customer and she said it like it was common knowledge: "Everyone poops at Starbucks."

A valid point.  Coffee's nickname is "poop juice."

Back to exotic dancing.  But why bother talking about this shitty night?  I've written the same story so many times.  No bread winners for me tonight.  Someone had to be traumatizing.  All the guys were broke losers.

Never work stupid bowl weekend where I'm at.

The first is the worst

Is officially GROUNDHOG DAY!

And who gives a fuck?  Oh yeah, the people up north.  At least they are enjoying chili in that cold weather while I'm starving here in the south.

No bread winners, no tippers.  Tonight SUCKED!  No feast for the sharks tonight.  It was slow all night.  There were so many moneymaking bitches sitting around backstage.  That's how bad it was.

Every time I made a round to find a customer I kept scanning each available male to see who looks at me first.

"Douchebag, douchebag, creeper, freeloader, douchebag, douchebag, douchebag, time-waster, keeps saying 'later,' told me he was broke, douchebag, douchebag, sweatpants, tried copping a free feel, asked me for a free trial dance (are you fucking kidding me?!!), fuck I'm already back to the dressing room door?"

And none of them made eye contact with me while I slowly walked by.

It's hard to make money in a club full of douches and sharks.  I'm not blowing my top over this, I totally saw it coming.  Maybe tomorrow night will be better.

Stormy cloud

I didn't go to work tonight.

I'm lazy and my gut told me tonight wasn't gonna be a good money night.  I'm saving my energy for tomorrow and Saturday night.  I don't need to start my week off with a Thursday night bomb.

I know I just said in my last post I wouldn't let my stormy financial forecast stop me from being a responsible stripper and going to work, but I did.  Call it abusing the freedom to choose my own hours... I love being a stripper.

And if I learned anything from last May/June, I would know tonight (Thursday the 31st) is the night to skip in my three-night work week.

But if I learned anything from last week, I would know that I can still make good money on a Thursday night.

I'm gonna stop contradicting myself because it's an embarrassing problem I need to work on.  I think it has something to do with my zodiac sign being a Pisces - two fish swimming in opposite directions.  One fish swims left, the other swims to the right.  Great for hearing both sides of the story, not great for making quick decisions.  Sometimes I hold up drive thrus trying to make up my mind.

Good fish: order water to drink
Bad fish: but I want Sprite!
Good fish: is there anything on this menu that won't make me fat
Bad fish: who cares?  You aren't fat now.
Good fish: "I'd like to order a chicken salad..."
Bad fish: "...with a Sprite to drink."

One thing I know for sure - I won't miss tomorrow night so you can expect my next post to be about work.