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.

Get me out of here!

Tonight sucked.

Let me explain.

It's the first official day of summer.  So even though it was Friday night, Fridays have been great at sucking, especially during the summer.

Fuck summer.  And fuck these douche bags that try to fucking test me.  The night was already going really slow, and I hadn't caught a sale in a while.  When some guy finally said yes, I sat him down and got to the dance.

"This is my first time in a strip club," the douche bag said.

I don't care.  In my opinion, this means trouble, or it's really true.  But either way, I've gotten so much bullshit from dudes that have mentioned that before a dance.

"Is this your first dance, too?" I asked.

"No, I got one from this other girl, but you're way hotter."

Gee, thanks.

"She went over a few rules, no touching in certain areas and no licking, right?"

"That's right.  No touching my pussy and no reaching into my grand canyon."

Probably a minute into the dance, everything seems fine until I get my hand wet and sticky from touching the side of my boob.

"EW, what is this?  What did you do?!"

"It's just a little spit, the other girl said it was okay."

OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT ON EARTH MAKES YOU THINK THIS IS OKAY YOU FUCKING PIG?!

"No, that is not okay, that is gross, give me my money."

I could've took the cash up front.  I didn't.  I'm so fucking stupid for that.  So all I got was $20 since I ended the dance early.

I didn't bother haggling since before he said he would pay $25.  Fucking douche bag.

One more post to add to the reasons why I need to fucking quit this job.  I hate being treated this way.  I really try not to get emotional, but this really upset me.

Just for you, daddy.

Happy Father's Day, dads.

I committed another cardinal stripper sin: I slept through Saturday night's shift.

"Okay, but you're gonna be bitching about money," my roommate said as I went to my room to take a "power nap."

These power naps are supposed to be about 30 minutes.  Last night my power nap lasted 11 hours.

So I traded a potentially awesome Saturday for a few hours of shut-eye.  And my body feels fantastic.

I at least worked on Friday night for a short period of time.  I'm still wired to the day clock so I started yawning all over my customers around 1:30, and the money pretty much stopped flowing.  I took that as a sign to leave.

So I worked like 4 hours this week.  Yes, call me a lazy piece of shit.  I deserve it.  I'm so broke.  I should just do the unthinkable and work tonight from 8-midnight.  I keep hearing about this shift and I just want to test it one day.  Tonight might be the night.  I could also talk myself out of it just as easily.

We'll see.  I'm due for some interesting stripper stories anyway.  This blog sucks right now.

Mouth health

I saw the dentist earlier today.  Overall, my mouth is in good health.  The hygienist told me I had lovely teeth and I'll have lovely teeth when I'm old only if I keep up on the maintenance, which includes flossing once every 24 hours.

I suck at remembering to floss.  Ugh, it's so tedious.  But so necessary.   Whenever I get around to it, after I finish, I tell myself I should be doing it every day.

And as a stripper, it's important to have good mouth health.  Customers are often close enough to be able to smell my breath, so brushing teeth before work is in the "getting ready" routine.  I might as well add flossing to the mix.  

The dentist also asked me what was going on with my life.  I couldn't say much, honestly.  I guess I am kind of boring lately, in case you noticed my lack of activity.  I'm just in a big waiting phase, waiting for my school life to come back, getting lots of sleep and trying to mentally prepare myself for the busy life ahead. 

I'm thinking these are the right decisions to make.  I've gotta fix my life on paper, and I still need to make money.  I'm trying to keep that perfect balance.  It's tough.  I have to constantly work at it.  I guess that's life.  I'm resting, but hardly.

Shift work sleep disorder

It's not exactly insomnia, which is the condition for people with normal working hours that can't sleep.

Shift work sleep disorder is the sleeping disorder people get when they work kooky hours like me.  I think I might be suffering from this.  At least my money is suffering.

I missed a Friday night because I felt like passing out right when I was supposed to go to work, around 9:30 p.m.  The thing is, I like to get my sleep between 7 a.m. to 3 p.m.  But many times, I stay up past 7 a.m.  The worst thing about staying up past 7 is that I can't go back to sleep and I end up staying awake well into the morning, sometimes the afternoon.  Once I pass out around noon, I don't wake up until its dark outside, which makes me feel backwards as a human.  So I try to reverse this problem by napping at night, but that only led to me waking up too early to stay up late at night, where I'm at right now.

I guess most people would be happy to be naturally waking up at 5:30 a.m.  Not me.  Ugh, there is nothing to do at this hour.  I'm usually unwinding, getting home from work, not just getting started.

I'm gonna take this event as a wake-up call (ha, get it?) to go see a doctor.  Maybe a little ambien after 7 could help me stop staying awake into the morning hours.  I really don't want to become dependent on drugs, though.  Hopefully I can quit stripping before this sleep cycle ruins me for life.

Watch your mouth, racist!

I seriously do not get paid enough some nights.  This is gonna be a whiny one.

Welcome to summer, where everyone's budget tightens up tighter than a homophobe's ass hole.

Some meat head earned a nomination for this year's biggest douche bag.  This guy was tan, he looked like he did steroids, and I bugged him for a dance.  He looked at me, didn't answer me, pulled out his money clip and started peeling through his hundreds.

Ok, this whole flashing your big bills thing is so not cool unless you actually spend them.  If you don't, you're an ass hole.  He didn't even tip one dollar, so I asked him if he wanted to dance.

"You know what?" he said.

"What's that?" I replied.

"I hate niggers," he said, plain as day.

I looked around to check for black dudes.  WTF dude, do you WANT to die?

"Watch your mouth, you don't want anyone to hear that."

"I'm just saying," he shrugged and did the sheepish "not guilty" face.

Oh my Gawd!  Shake my head!  Racism is such a turn-off.  I think nigger should be the new term for racist.  It is short for "ignorant" after all.

Later I saw him at the juke box and he played Cannibal Corpse, which is the farthest thing from strip club appropriate.  He earns a troll nomination for that, too.

So besides dealing with douche bags, tonight's take home was just like last night: weak.  Everything is pretty much going toward bills.  I can't save anything.  Fuck rent week.

I'm taking the next few days for myself.  I'm gonna heal up my sore muscles.  I feel like I was breaking my back for these guys.  Someone was tossing a lot of singles on the stage but only when I got on my knees to really shake it.  Ugh, I'm not 21 anymore.  I can't bounce like I used to.  I don't know how some girls continually slam their heels on the stage.  I'd like to see a girl make it look like she slammed down into a split, but without making any obnoxious noise.  I'd make it rain for the ninja stripper.  I think ninjas are hot.

I need more dudes.  The crowds are too thin.  I think I'll have to craft my fast, slow hustle.  I need to work out more long-term deals.  Just a few of those dudes that want to do like 5 songs for $100 can really save the night.  But if I don't catch any of those big fish and I'm stuck with a few guys that only want one freakin dance, the money sucks!

I should go pick up some literature on how to master the art of persuasion.  Feel free to make a recommendation.

A more summer-like pattern

Good god the club was depressingly slow.  Welcome to summer, folks.

At least I'm not in tornado alley, what shit their weather's been this past week.  While they're getting their roofs blown off, I'm stewing in the hot, humid south, thanking the air conditioning gods.

I hate it when guys catch on to the fact all the girls are doing shitty.  They start to think it's okay that we are doing bad and want to chat me up for free.  UGHH come on, chat me up while we dance, sheesh.  Any conversation that I do for free is such a waste of time.

One guy sounded like a journalist doing a story on strip clubs, so I made sure to be as uninteresting as possible.  His first question was, "What made you start dancing?"

My super obvious answer, "Because I needed money."

He was waiting for me to expand upon that idea.

"And there is great freedom, too."

He was confused.

"I have great freedom being able to choose my schedule.  I can skip a shift without calling out sick, I can show up late or early, it doesn't matter."

Then I thought, "Enough questions, let's dance."

So I asked him for a dance and of course he "couldn't afford one."

Motherfucker.

Tonight was such hustle fail, there were NO guys, and the few that came in were cheap, dirty pigs.

I was hoping a money prince would save my night, and the one guy who I thought would be that guy ended up having to leave because of his stupid pig friends.

Every customer I danced for got my "come back soon" line.  I need guys to come in this summer.  I can't go broke, I need to pay for college again.  Fuck.  I need a new envelope for "tuition."

I'm not giving up, I'm just simply not caring about the hard times of summer.  I need to work hard.  This month of May I skipped EVERY Thursday night, and I actually didn't do that bad for the month as a whole, even with that shitty mother's day weekend.  I'm probably going to stick to only Friday and Saturday and just turn it on for those two nights and rest up every other night.  I'm too exhausted to waste my time on the weeknights.

I've been keeping up with my workouts this week.  I felt very confident with my body, and it's been getting positive attention, so that's been getting me through the tough times.  Hopefully I will have a better summer than last year.  We shall see.