Head Splodeys

Dancing with myself
2001-01-04 - 10:12:51

A girl OD'd at work tonight. Her friend insisted that no, really, she wasn't on GHB, she was just drunk. IV walked over to where the girl was curled up, insensible, on the dressing room floor & slapped her in the face. No reaction, not so much as a twitch or moan. "Call an ambulance. If she was just drunk, she'd wake up". Of course, nobody bothered to call an ambulance 'till a couple of hours later when the still-unconcious girl started having seizures.

Apparently this happens all the time at this club. IV's sister works in the ER, & says they get G-d out strippers constantly. Usually they just have an uncomfortable night in the ER, vomiting & shitting themselves, having seizures, or screaming at the top of their lungs for hours on end. Every once in awhile, they die.

And it's not just that these dancers are stupid druggies. The vast majority do not do this on purpose. Customers are slipping GHB in drinks when no one's looking. Apparently it's the new date-rape drug, now that roofies (sp?) are pretty much impossible to get ahold of. Not sure what these guys are expecting to accomplish. Even if they somehow managed to smuggle a drugged-up stripper out of the club, how much fun could you possibly have w/ a comatose zombie who just soiled herself? ::shrugs::

So I'm not at all comfortable dancing here. It's hard enough for me to make money here since I a) look like a freak b) have a hard time pretending to be stupid & acting as though I like somebody when I don't c) I'm absolutely wretched at lap dances. I don't like touching people I don't know well/like a lot, & I'm no good at feigning sexual interest (hell, even when I *am* sexually interested, I'm not very good at showing it). Back in the good old days, we danced full nude w/ no contact, which was pretty much ideal in my world. Frankly, I'd almost rather be onstage w/ a speculum than bouncing on some drunk buttsmack's lap topless. Frankly, after watching a girl on stage flip upside down, then flop back over w/ her thighs landing on a customer's shoulders (& her ass/crotch landing square on his face) for a fucking *dollar*, I'm amazed I make any money at all.

Yeah, so anyway... on top of everything else, I'm too paranoid to sit with customers, now... and it's more difficult to make money when you're just flitting around asking for dances w/o chatting them up first.

But hey... at least they play good music. There's nothing quite like trying to be sexy while you're writhing topless to Korn's "Shoots & Ladders".

Goddamn, I need to win the lottery. Maybe I should just go home. The clubs there suck, but at least I'm comfortable in them... and frankly, I'm entirely underwhelmed by the earning potential here (we were told that a bad night here was $ 300, & the average was somewhere between $ 400 & $ 1000. I've yet to make over $ 150. Tonight I made $ 70. Okay, sure, that sounds like a decent amount of money for a few hours of work, but when you take into account how burnt out I am on the whole stripping scene, & how little I liked it to begin with, it's just not enough. If I'm going to have to put up w/ being propositioned by every guy I talk to, if I'm going to have to touch these dill-holes, if I'm going to have to come home smelling like Eau de Drunken Asshole every night... I'd damn well better be making more than $70.

I just have to keep reminding myself, it's not forever. Just until my bills are caught up. Just until MS gets a car. Just until I can make a living as an equine massage therapist or technical writer, or freelance model, or *something*... because as much as I loathe being a stripper, I'm none too fond of having to work a set 5-day-a-week schedule at some bullshit desk- or retail job, either.

Have I mentioned lately that being an adult sucks? And it's not like I'm really acting like one, either.

Give a Clix, if you please.

midi lives in gloomcounty
midi came from Ravenswood Manor