Bob's Beach (Part 2)

I mentioned when I left San Francisco for Bob's Beach that it would end in a violent situation in an earlier post.

I had been living there for a couple of months.  The parties were starting to annoy me.  Bob's attention had become stifling.  I liked him very much, but I knew this is not the life I wanted for myself.  Working at Richard's Lounge was working out well enough.

During that time, I was offered a bachelor party.  I had pretty much  decided not to work the party circuit any more.  They were offering a nice incentive.  My best friend Amber, who was dating the other Bob said she would go with me for support along with my appointed body guard.

When I arrived to the party, it turned out to be a young but upscale crowd.  They were all great looking, clean cut.  The party was tame and went very well.  When I was done, all the girlfriends started to arrive and it turned into a social party.  I was invited to stay.  Everyone, the girls included were nice to me.  I got to know the guy who hired me.  He was very hot.  Add alcohol, me being generally unhappy, yes we hooked up.  Before this happened, I asked Amber if she would have my back.  Meaning, not tell Bob if I hooked up with this person.  She promised she wouldn't say anything.

Drugs, alcohol, stupidity and being young is not the best combination.  Amber and I had an argument about a month later. She told Bob everything.  He didn't let on that he knew for a good week.  We were in bed, he told me that he would really like to marry me so that I would become "his".  I told him I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment.  I also didn't want to become anyone's piece of property.  That is when he blew up and let me know he knew.  He said he still loved me.  He said he would do his best to forgive me.

Yeah, that went well.

When I moved out of my parent's house, I took the bedroom set they bought me when I was 5.  It was a nice queen size, wooden, four poster bed.  I moved it to San Francisco.  I took it with me to Bob's Beach.

Since Bob found out about my fling, I noticed he had been drinking a bit more.  I would come home from work and there would be more random people hanging around that usual.

On a Friday night, I came home after work.  There was a full on beach party in the works.  I wasn't happy, but I decided to have a drink a be social anyway.  Bob introduced me to a hot, tanned beachy babe, Tammi.  She was nice enough.  We talked a bit, then randomly split up.  I sensed Bob wasn't paying that much attention to me.  It started to become a strange night.  His friend, Jim had flirted with me previously.  This night he straight out asked me to sex him.  I said No.  He asked why since I had hooked up with the bachelor party guy.  (Great, Bob told everyone).  He was also throwing all kinds of negative comments at me; saying that it wasn't my home because I wasn't charged rent- how long was I going to keep dancing because I was old at 25, et.

I got up to leave the party.  My car was parked on the street.  I sat in there to relieve my temper for a while.

A half hour later, I come back to an empty beach.  I walk into the house.  I go to open the door to my room.  Sonny, who was passed out on the couch, bounces up and tells me not to open the door.  I ask why, but then I hear the grunting, moaning, groaning of sex.

I'm shocked, mad.  I go into the kitchen and break a few dishes.  I cry.  Then I realize they are doing it on the four poster that my parents gave me!!  NO!!  Did I mention Bob liked to hunt?  I go for the rifle.  Sonny struggles to get it away from me.  I fall into a heap crying, telling I have no intention on killing anyone.  I just wanted to scare them.  He makes sure the gun isn't loaded.  He is trying to soothe me.  I told him to let me go.  I promised I wouldn't beat the shit out of Tammi.  I just had to get them off of my precious bed.

I walk in.  They are doggy style.  Bob tells me to get the fuck out.  I tell him to get the hell off my bed.  (This exchange is repeated a few times).  Tammi squeals, 'what's going on?  Is that chick your girlfriend"?  I tell her not anymore.  He tells me they're busy.  I tell him I don't care.  I will wait until they finish so I can strip the bed and burn the sheets.  He can't finish (lol).  She barely dresses and runs out.  He and I argue in the living room.  He's naked, I'm in sweats.  He says he wants me out.  I say I'll get my stuff out while he's at work the following day.  Luckily, I had a friend to stay with.  I find a new place to live within a week.

At this point in time, Amber and I are not friends.

I hope everybody has had a nice holiday!

The Holidays are Hectic

...and a bit depressing.  My current club has been slow.  It's not the lack of making it rain that is bringing the sadness.  The state of some of my customers.  There is a young man who comes in nearly every day.  At least everyday that I am there.  Apparently, he has a terminal illness.  I've heard this from the other girls.  He hasn't told me.  I talk to him everyday that I see him.  He hasn't told me, but he asks such existential, yet simple questions.

Then my long term regular severed our relationship last week in a severe manner.  I really don't want to cross paves with him again.

Everyone else in my pole/acrobat class is passing me up in their strength and talent.  I'm afraid to practice at work because the pole is so slippery.  I have insurance, but it's still not worth taking the risk.  I practice at home every chance I get.  But my housekeeping is suffering because of it.

Enough about my pity party.  I will continue stories about my sordid past tomorrow.

Living At Bob's Beach in San Jose, CA (Part 1)

I realize it's been a month since I've posted.  The site I was supposed to be published in didn't work out:-(  I have to admit it this derailed me a bit from writing.  Enough about the present, I have a past to write about.

Leaving San Francisco was a culture shock for me.  I was brought up in the suburbs for the most part.  However, living in England as a child, going to school in "San Fran" and Los Angeles left an impression on me. I had become an "urban gorilla". Going back to the suburbs made me feel like I failed to achieve goals.  Still, I needed the change.  My partying in the city was ruining me.

I moved in with the two Bobs at the faux beach in the Willow Glen neighborhood of San Jose, CA.   Hawt Bob and I were infatuated with each other.  He dumped his long time girl friend for me.  I never met her personally, but I heard she was a sweet girl.  I stole her man from her, not a great accomplishment. Hawt Bob delivered fish for a living.  Yup, fish.  There is nothing wrong with this.  It was just a change for me.  Going from dating law students, medical students, attorneys and male models to, well, fish.

It turns out the Bobs loved cooking, having people over and (you knew this was coming), throwing parties.  What is that old saying?  Jumping from the frying pan into the fire?  Something like that.  It was very difficult to detox in that environment.

He did take care of me for a couple of weeks.  He cooked for me and nursed me back to physical health.  (I wasn't quite healed mentally).

Eventually, I needed to start working.  I knew I didn't want to dance  naked any more.  I found a little local bar called Richard's Lounge. It was owned by a very large, amiable, Canadian man, Richard Brazil.  This little place was located in Sunnyvale,CA.  (This is where Macbooks came from,kids).  This was a very small lounge with an elongated full bar, a small rectangular stage and I believe there was a pool table in the back.  There was usually 3 dancers on a shift.  We worked seven hour shifts.    Since we danced in bikinis, they had a full bar. (No nudity and alcohol in California).  We danced a couple of songs on stage, picked from a jukebox.  Then we would do these little dances for a minute or so for the individual man and/or woman.  They would tip us directly.  They were allowed to stick the money on to the edge of our bikini bottoms.  I found out later that most of the money was being tipped into the bikini bottoms.

This was to be my second home for the next 8 years.

Not In a Good Mood!

My wireless keyboard is not working , I hate this Starbucks and the club I disappeared from three months ago won't take me back.  I haven't had enough sleep, my lower back is tweaked in a bad way.

Oh,  now it decides to work ...right when I'm getting ready to leave:-(

I had no idea I had to be on a schedule with that club.  I was told by one of the dancers that you can come and go as you please.  I was not very smart to believe a dancer I barely knew.  So disappointing.  There was a decent income in that club.  And we all know how much of I LOVE  those 405 closures to the North.

Oh well.  I'll just stay the holidays working in the dives in the valley on day shift, just to avoid traffic and getting stuck with late fees.:-(

( I don't know why the rest of blog won't come out in the same style as my sentence).

I've Been Invited to Write a Post For an Awesome Blog!

I know it's been a bit since I've written, but I've been working on a piece for an award winning blog called Blasianbytch.com

She's half Black.  Half Asian.  All bytch:-)  I think that's so cute.  I am also very flattered to be invited.  I'll be back writing here in a week or so.

Cheers,

Dorien

Strip-o-Graming in San Francisco

In the fall of 1983, I found out that I could make extra money doing  bachelor parties.  The Pink Poodle was still decent financially, yet it was located in San Jose. I had been bored of the suburbs since I was in middle school.  I really wanted to move to San Francisco.  San Francisco: a mini New York, a haven for great cuisine, a mecca of culture, reputable theater companies, great night clubs and an amazing underground music and DJ scene. (Yes, raves were actually around in the 80's.  We just called them underground parties).

There was a company out of San Mateo, CA.  It was called Strip-o-Gram.  It was run by two male strippers/models by the name of Jason and Julian.
Those were their performance names, of course.  Jason was a bit older than most of us.  He was probably in his late 30's or early 40's and was a double for Tom Selleck.  Julian was younger and looked like a young Richard Gere, hence the name "Julian" from American Gigolo.  Julian was known for his act from "Officer and a Gentleman" which would end with him picking up and carrying a female audience member the way Richard Gere did to Debra Winger in the film.  The ladies really adored that stuff. Their office space was beautiful and Spanish style.  Very unlike the rundown club buildings in San Jose.

I had been to a couple of agencies in San Jose.  Both of them took me on but they said I may be difficult to book because I looked too much like a "cute girl" and wasn't sexy enough.  They were right. I didn't get booked right away.  When I finally did, it was for a bachelor party.  I remember the girl they booked me with; her name was Angel.  Her face seemed so hardened and she rarely smiled.  She had great hair.  Farrah Fawcett hair.  When she did smile, she looked a little like Farrah.  It turns out she was only a year older than me.  This scared me because I didn't want that hard look or attitude towards life happening to me.   The party was awkward.  There was hardly any  furniture and it was a bunch of guys standing in a circle in an uncompleted house in the Santa Cruz mountains.  They weren't the most welcoming.  The vibe was intimidating.  Nothing too crazy happened, but I knew this company wasn't for me.

Jason and Julian welcomed me with open arms.  They loved my look and said it would be great for the G rated gigs they got a lot of requests for.  They would get these great gigs for birthdays, events and performances that were just meant to cheer someone up, play a joke on them or surprise the heck out of them.  A lot of these smaller gigs would require that we play characters. I was often booked as a candystriper.  Other gigs, I would be an applicant for a tech firm, a health inspector, a police woman, even an insect exterminator!  These events would require us to just strip down to a bikini since the places we were booked were usually public and the audience both male and female. This wasn't considered "un -PC" or sexually demeaning to women at the time.  The women seemed to enjoy it as well.  I was getting booked so much that it was difficult to keep up.  I was making incredible $$ and getting a lot of recommendations.  I did bachelor parties occasionally.  I never felt completely comfortable performing at those parties, but the money was even better.  All of the escorts (bouncers) they booked to go with us actually had real jobs and just did this for extra $$, the opportunity to party and to meet hot strippers.  They were all pretty hot as well.

Within a couple of months, I had enough money to move to San Francisco. One of the other managers of Strip-o-Gram, John , had a great apartment on Church St. in the Mission neighborhood of San Francisco.  He needed a roommate.  I was so there.  John was a short, muscular, amiable guy.  He always had at least three women he was dating at a time.  I  got the vibe he may have been bi-sexual, but he never brought any guys home.  It was actually funny to meet his girlfriends.  They all automatically thought I was sexing him.  I had no interest in him that way whatsoever.  One of them, it took her a few meetings for her to truly believe I was not sleeping with him.  This woman was drunk at our place one night and asked me how I could I resist sleeping with him.  I just told her the thought made me throw up a bit in my mouth.  Then  she was mad at me for insulting her taste in men!  Umm, she didn't last long.

Things were so great:  I was living in a great apartment in a trendy neighborhood, making decent money, I was still on my parent's medical insurance plan ( I was 24.  I had one more year.  Yes, they did that back then), I had a part-time civilian job that I got from college placement so I could tell my parents that I actually had a real job.  (It was so boring.  I worked part time for Isotoner, the glove  company.  I was a glorified inventory person.  I had to dress like a model in a business suit to come to work and stock items for these people:-( !  I was also getting gigs as a real dancer.  I met some producers of some underground parties such as the Club A-non and the French Legion from a DJ I became friends with.  These were fun and paid very well!  I popped out of a giant cake at one of them, danced in a cage at a Motown themed party and was a statue who came to life at another one.  I didn't have a study boyfriend at the time. I was liking this.  I had left a boyfriend of a year in the San Jose area.  He was a post hippie-punk rock artist that wanted to move to the Santa Cruz mountains and get married.  I craved the city. That was the end of us.  I relished being single.  I was dating male models, musicians, and hot guys with real jobs.  I was a chubby girl in high school.  I had lost my chubbiness and couldn't believe that I was thought of as attractive.  This was so new for me.

January 1984 came around.  If you are not familiar with the business of strippers, January is the worst time of year to make a living at this.  Bookings were not so abundant. I had been having so much fun partying, shopping, partying, dining out, partying and dating that I had not even thought of the slow season.   In fact I didn't think of the slow season at all.  Partying was becoming a big hobby of mine. (Did you notice this?)  I was never a smoker, but I was doing my fair share of recreational cocaine.  I was cute, so I never had to pay for it.  I always made my payments, so my roommate had no problem with it.  I never really became an alcoholic, mainly because I couldn't drink too much because of my small stature.  It did make a big difference in my personality.  I had lost my attention to detail.  I started showing up late to some of my gigs.  I quit my real job.  My bookers got reports about me from clients stating I looked tired.  Ironically, from all the coke I was doing, I started gaining weight.  (Back then, 5'2", 110 lbs was considered fat.  Not the good kind).  I started getting less bookings.  I started working part time at various clubs. ( I actually won a contest and a job at the famous Mitchell Brother's O' Farrell theater.  Even in 1984, it was too much of a brothel for me to work in).  I also got hired at another dance gig agency.  One of the male models I was dating had a friend who ran an agency similar to Strip-o-Gram.  It was located in San Francisco. They booked primarily male dancers.  I was their token female.  Although I was flattered, I didn't get too much work from them either.  I was becoming depressed.  My energy level dropped.  I dreaded seeing my family down in the San Jose area.  I started to dabble in Xstacy.

Eventually, my best friend, Amber loved coming up to San Francisco from San Jose to hang out with me.  I started going down south to hang with her as well.  She introduced me to a cute boy named Bob.  He was tres' hawt.  In more of a masculine  way than the pretty boys I knew in San Francisco.  He lived in this old house on a sprawling piece of land in the Willow Glen neighborhood of San Jose.  He shared it with another guy named Bob.  They built a big faux beach and called it Bob's Beach.  Bob convinced me that the big city was the source of my depression. He could never understand the concept of paying for parking.  I ended up moving out of San Francisco and moving in with him.  Amber took my place in San Francisco.

This was pretty much the end of the  relationship between Strip-o-Gram and myself and the beginning of a dysfunctional relationship that almost ended in violence.  But I would come back to San Francisco.

The Perils of Pole Dancing

(I am so mad right now.  It's hottest day on earth in Los Angeles.....AT THE BEACH!!!  I have no A/C in my apartment, have had too much caffeine to go to a coffee shop and my technology is taking a crap on me!  I don't want to use my laptop because it's scalding hot, my iPad has this site frozen, so I'm typing on a wireless keyboard connected to my iphone.  My cute little iphone just lost half of my post. I'm starting over).

I don't think there are many dancers around that have been dancing on a pole as long as I have.  I don't mean walking around the pole, doing a couple of spins, maybe a pirouette, then sliding down the pole into a split.  I mean leg hanging, upside-down, inverting, cross ankle release...I think you get the idea.

I came in contact with my first stainless steel pole at the end of 1992 in a small club called Richard's Lounge (soon to be changed to The Candid Club) in Sunnyvale, CA.  Immediately, I knew how to climb.  Perhaps not gracefully,but I could do it fast and it was fun.  Within a year I taught myself how to do a few spins,hang upside down and do a cross ankle release.  My big trick was sliding down in that cross ankle release position hanging with one foot. Pretty cool, huh?  Especially for not having YouTube to reference.

The peril was that for many, many years after this, I did the same tricks over and over again, favoring my right side. Fast forward to 2009.  I started taking classes.  I've learned all kinds of things: knee holds, ceiling splits, aerial mounts, flag pole, blah,blah.

I still favored my right side.  Also in the last six months, I've been taking so many aerial classes that I've neglected to work my lower body.  Since the end of March, I found I've been injuring myself (mostly minor stuff) repeatedly.  This had never happened to me before when I was lifting weights and changing up my workouts.

About seven weeks ago, I was dancing.  My music was high energy.  I jumped up and landed on my 5 inch heel boots like I had done so many times before.  Except this time, my left knee felt a bit different. It didn't hurt like hell.  It just felt different, a little weaker. I took five days off dancing to travel.  I felt great when I came back. So I danced again. On my second day, I felt that feeling in my left knee again.  The next day, I took two pole classes and had worked out for an our earlier that day. When I got home, I had to ice my knee for almost an hour. Two days later, I was walking around doing errands in medium heels.  My knees started burning.  This scared me and sent me into a paranoid downward spiral.

The following week, I saw my doctor, chiropractor and a physical therapist.  It turns out I have a severe muscle imbalance from favoring my right side for so many years. I have also been neglecting my lower body (compared to how I use to work it out) for the last year. The good news is:  I don't need surgery.  I just have to start allover with lower body weights, work my hip flexors every day, and learn to use the pole with my left side.  I'm stronger than I thought I was on that side, but I still need a lot of work.

So ladies of the pole:  Please, please work both sides. I doubt that a lot of young women who are starting to work with the pole now will be doing it for the length of time I have.  If you do plan to be a lifer, learn both sides. Do not forget to work your beautiful legs and booty.  Not only can you become weak, but I know a certain famous pole dancer, who although thin and bendy, she seems to have lost a lot of definition in her legs and her booty is almost non existent.  If you are making your $$ by shaking your booty you definitely don't want that happening!

Please be careful.  I've hit my head twice in eight weeks(only one was pole related).  I just got my brain scanned yesterday. My brain is still normal and intact.  I'm very lucky.  I don't want this happening to you pretty dancer ladies.

My Subcribers & the Animal

I just wanted to extend a heartfelt thanks to my subscribers. It feels so wonderful to know that I am able to entertain you with my random musings about an industry that so many people think of as 'tabu', elicit or plain ol' dirty.

My last post was all about what was happening with me presently. Yeah, all about how I was going to take that audition because that solo spot in the recital was so rightfully mine, all mine.

Welllll.....that didn't happen.  I had been dancing and training like a teenage gymnast.  My left knee decided to start burning painfully just a week before my audition.  The few days before my audition, I was seen by a chiropractor , a doctor and a physical therapist.  The good news:  I didn't need surgery.  The bad:  after pole dancing off & on for 19 years and favoring my right side, it turns out I have a definite muscle imbalance .  Also, for the last year I have excelled on the pole so much that I had been neglecting my lower body.  My quads are weak.  Especially my left one.

This depressed me a lot for a little while.  However, I am now on the road to strengthen and center myself.

Which brings me to a dancer I knew in my past . I have mentioned her before.  She is the one and only Animal.  She was the wildest pole dancer I ever knew.  Her method of pole dancing was to grab the overhead horizontal bars, swing on them, let go in a chinese split in mid-air and end in a hard landing split.  No leg warmers, knee pads, stockings or any sort of protection.  Guess what?  She still does this occasionally.  She introduced me to a shot called a Blowjob.  She would down these with her hands behind her back while people cheered.

I was on yelp a couple of weeks ago. I was searching for reviews of the Brass Rail in Sunnyvale, CA.  There was a photo of a woman with wild blond hair, who did look older. She had this unmistakable  warrior look to her face.  Apparently, her real name is Charlotte. I messaged her and asked if the woman in the photo was the Animal.  She got back to me.  I was right!  

We've been messaging each other on yelp.  She is still there at the same club.  She has been a DJ there for 33 years.  She was dancing before that.  She had to have been at least in her early thirties when I started dancing there when I was 26.  She is at least 60 yrs old.

All those years working in what use to be a mid-level club, now a dive for many years.  I wouldn't have been able to do it.  To me it would have been like death.  I was working towards a different career, loved to travel and valued my privacy.  I would imagine after that long in one place, you would no longer be a mystery to any one.  Everyone would be up in yo' bizness!

But there are advantages: the Brass Rail is an independently owned club.  It's been a family business for over 40 years.  They have always offered medical benefits to their employees.  It's located in a somewhat desirable part of California.  They actually serve decent food there.  Workers get to eat gratis.

Animal was a dancer who hung out with motorcycle gangs and didn't have much of an education.  She did have that sexy kind of raspy, deep voice that came from cigarettes & whiskey.  Becoming a DJ was a natural progression.

Here's a toast to you, wild Animal:-)  (Knocks back a Blowjob).

I've Been Busy

I have been busy and so sorry for neglecting my blog.  This is not a story about my past, just a short comment on my present.

I've been practicing for an audition I have coming up.  This would be for a solo spot in a pole dance recital.  I'm so nervous and my knees are really sore.

Why would a woman who has been dancing for 30 years and on a pole for 18, be so nervous?  The game has changed.  That's why.

It used to be I would be the only one in the club sliding down a pole up-side-down with one leg. This would get all the applause, mouth gapes and $$ from the mostly male audience.  These days, you have to be a contender for Cirque du Soleil to not solicit a yawn.

My fave dancer, Anjel Dust, only 3 years ago was winning competitions all over with her knee holds, aishas  and spinning side climbs on a static pole.  Now knee holds and aishas are common place.  I still think her spinning side climb is spectacular. She had to re-learn pole dancing without boots and knee pads because by 2010, she was considered disqualified if she danced in boots!

So, I've learned so much more.  Last March it was a 24 yr old and myself that were the top performers of our studio because she could death lay and I could split on the ceiling.  She has now surpassed me.  She is an instructor.  But I knew she would because she is 29 yrs. younger than me.  Becoming an instructor, was not my goal, however.

So why am I busting my ass to win a solo?  I do solos all the time for a mostly male audience.  Because this is a different game.  Because it is my legacy.  Because it's a challenge.  I'm nervous because this audience values artistic talent over sexual appeal.  This makes me scared yet carnivorously ambitious.  I have to be perfect.  I don't get to stop to pick up tips.  This is a fierce competition y'all!  I got to do it NOW.  At my age, I may not get another chance.

I've been really attuned to my fellow advanced level students/contenders.  They mostly do the same tricks.  Some are more daring than what I can do.  But......they don't have the dance, theater or seduction background that I do.

I'm in it to win it.  This is why I haven't been writing.

Btw, out of the 100 or so students we have at the studio, did I mention that I have the best abs by far?  I've been told this a lot.  But my instructor, a famed acrobat that is well versed in trapeze, hoops and lyra as well as pole; told me I had better abs than her last night:-)!!

(And I've got 20 yrs. on her).  Wish me luck!

Cannot Find My Draft!

This blog won't be posted in my usual style. This is the first time using my iPad to post. Having quite a day: I can't find my draft, I stressed through Dodgers traffic to make it to a dance class just to find out it was canceled and I still haven't purchased a keyboard for my new iPad yet. I wanted to continue my story about leaving the Pink Poodle because of how the dance styles had changed so drastically.


 The next club I went to was called The Brass Rail in Sunnyvale, Ca. This is where Steve Jobs started. Not the Brass Rail, but the city of Sunnyvale.  The Brass Rail was topless...sort of.  This was a club with a full bar and a reputable smorgasbord style lunch. The dancers were also cocktail servers. We were paid a minimum wage and kept all of our tips. The object was to be in the top five each night for selling cocktails. There was some sort of light penalty for being a lazy server, but I can't recall what that was.


 (About my shit day? I also forgot my reading glasses:-( I am blindly writing this post!!)


 Back to the subject .Yes, topless sort of. Once you were hired, you were taken to a small room in back of the DJ booth. You shot on video doing a topless dance. No floor work. No pole. Just standing there, bouncing boobies and smiling. They would play this while you danced on stage in a bikini. Hence, they advertised having topless dancers. They are still open and to me knowledge, still practice this form of "topless dancing".


 They did have poles. They were no more than 6ft.   The stage was a long, narrow sort of catwalk. You stepped on to the stage from the back. About five feet in front of you were two poles on the very edge of the stage, one on each side. There was a horizontal pole on top that connected the top brass poles. Every so often a dancer might do a tiny spin on one of the side poles. But mostly it was all about the pull ups on the horizontal bar. There was a crazy dancer called The Animal, an older, thin, mean, Harley riding, drunken bitch. She would swing on the horizontal bar and in mid swing let go in mid air and land with a thump in a hard Chinese split. No knee pads, no boots. Crazy bitch!


 I also got the worst reception from the dancers there. More so than any new club in which I was the new girl.  I remember being shown to the main dressing room. It was crowded. Every time I put my bag somewhere, I was told to move my "shit" somewhere else. Especially by The Animal. I was already nervous. I started to cry silently and tried to sneak out of the club. The big black DJ caught me and asked me to go into the small video room. He convinced me to stay and said I could use this smaller private dressing room. I started undressing when an attractive, light toned black dancer called Summer came in and politely said that this room was reserved for her and her three dancing sisters: Spring, Winter and Fall.  (Yes, for reals).  I was so getting tired of this. I told the DJ I had been kicked out again. He knew what was going on, so he introduced me to Roxy and said she would be my guardian angel.


Roxy was a short, muscular dancer, with short blond, curly hair and a New York Bronx style accent.  She was someone you wouldn't want to fight with.  She was very supportive of me and hung out with me off and on through out the night.  Nobody really messed with me when they found out we were buddies.


Dancing styles there were bouncy and cute.  Sort of like early Madonna music videos.  Customers were not allowed to touch.  There were no lap dances.  There was floor work.  Mostly just leaning back and spreading or walking like a spider and spreading. Nobody had heard of booty popping at that time.  The big move was to bend over with your booty to the audience and move it from side to side.  Tall, thin, white dancers with boobs seemed to be the money makers there.  Back then, I had shaved both sides of my head and had wild curly hair on top.  Sort of like a combo of early Prince and Madonna combined.  There was another dancer there with shorter hair than mine!  We both did fairly well.  Another funny thing about this place is that a lot of the girls wore pantyhose!!  Yes, pantyhose.  My short haired girl wore full covered body suits over pantyhose and still made more $$ than me  some nights.  Summer, the diva that kicked me out of her dressing room, wore pantyhose.  She was actually a good dancer.  Even back then, I felt like pantyhose was cheating!  I also thought it looked dorky.  This would never fly now!  Guys are so dorky.  In my entire career I have never wore pantyhose to cover flaws!


(I was able to fix the format of my post after all:-)

Nothing to do with Stripping

I am working today.  Forcing myself to go in.  Having a hard time. My sister in-law and her young family live in Colorado Springs.  They were evacuated from their home this morning.  The homes across the street are burning.  Small chance their home will make it.  My 11 year old niece is losing it!  Being a trained actress, it's difficult not to access an 11 year old's emotions.  Especially a happy, over achiever who cares for her community.


I'm trying not to lose it.  Leaving for work in an hour.  Keeping tears back.  Trying to generate positvity to my poor family.  I feel so helpless, living so far away from them.  Had plans to see them in two weekends.  I only see them twice a year at most.  Not sure if I can see them.  I have parents I have to see next week.  They are in another state.  My dad is sick (although getting better) but it's been a month since I've seen him and although we don't get along, I am the closest "kid" geographically to them.  I have to go.


Think of those close to you today and be thankful they are OK.


Sorry to be such a downer.

Dance Styles from 1982 to the Present: Vol. 2

After I had been dancing at the Pink Poodle for almost a year, I was hired by a stripping telegram company called Strip-o-Gram.  (That will be covered in another post:-)  I had moved to San Francisco to work for them, since most of my gigs were up that way.  


But when SOG and I parted ways a year later, I went back to the good ol' Pink Poodle.  Boy, had dance styles changed!  I actually missed Diana and her old fashioned elegance.


New girls had been hired, as they always are.  The two that totally set my mouth agape and made me quite nervous were Sally and Yvette.  Ah, yes.  18 year old Yvette.  The one who would semi-shower, sit on our vanity counter, legs completely spread, with one dirty foot on the counter..shaving her vagina.  Umm, yeah.  I thought that stuff was supposed to be done at home.  She and I never really did agree on much of anything.  She thought I was old and prudish (I was not quite 25!).


Yvette's style was basically to slink across the stage and at some point spread her legs and stretch her vaginal lips as far as they could be stretched.  It made me wince just to watch!  I mean, it looked like it hurt.  I hated dancing after her.  If her fans were there, I just couldn't give them what they wanted.  This, of course, affected my ability to make a good income.


Then there was Sally.  She was another long legged Latina.  She could have been Yvette's older sister.  She was a strange one.  She would speak in non-sequiturs to anyone who would listen.  She didn't necessarily want a response.  Her thing was objects.  Objects such as: bananas, cigars (sometimes lit), carrots, zucchinis..I think you get where I'm going with this.  At least she used a blanket.  Sally wasn't just about insertion; ever heard of a song by Prince called "Pussy Control"?  This describes Sally.  She would make these things twirl, push and vibrate.  "Look Mom!  No hands!!"


I forgot to mention that Diana, the old elegant dancer was no longer there.  Neither was little Jasmine (of the diaphanous robes and ballet training), TJ (the flash dancer) or Precious (turned to religion).  I don't think they were fired.  I think the "new guard" scared them off.  They certainly scared me off.  There were other new dancers that were sort of raunchy, but not like Sally or Yvette.  The new girls were not shy about talking about who was paying them for sex outside of the club.  I don't care what a person does outside of my workplace as long as it's not hurting anyone.  They just don't have to tell me.


Wow!  Dancing had changed from early '83 to mid '84.  I knew it was time for my exit.  One day I quit.  I was in tears in the middle of a shift.  I told Sid (yup, that old butt head was still there), that I couldn't handle it any more.  He told me that it was change and other clubs were just like that.  He told me to get used to it if I wanted to stay in the business.


I refused to believe him.  So I set off to find a different path and way of dancing.


(PS.  This is the present.  I hurt my lower back just reaching for shaving cream in the shower today.  I need to work the next two days.  I'm going in, but taking it easy.  Am I doing the right thing?)

The Recent Past: Last Weekend

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The Burlesque Hall of Fame: The Titans of Tease

This takes place in Las Vegas now at the Orleans casino in a theater that seats 800.   It was sold out last night.   I went last year.  I bought a pass and went to every show and took master classes from legendary dancers April March and Tiffany Carter.  

Most of these ladies were dancing in the 50's, 60's or 70's.  Some of them beyond.  But I think the youngest legend retired from dancing in 1994.

I learned a lot in the classes and just from watching the shows.  I had never danced with panels before ( long strips that detach from a long negligee), or with huge feathery fans.  I had never considered the art of taking nearly an entire song just to take an opera glove off.  This was different for me, but I respect different forms of dance.  However, I attended this 4 day event alone.  I knew this was going to be a very splashy, formal event, but I don't dress like a 50's pin-up girl.  I have very long, curly hair and I don't like the feel of lots of pins and things in it.  I didn't sport sequins like almost every other woman (and some men in attendance).  When I showed up to my master classes with my booty shorts, royal blue 5 in. heel go-go boots and wet hair, I was sort of "mean girled" out of any circles.  So much for making friends.  The legends were very nice to me.  That made me feel better.  So, I was solo and that's ok.

This sort of goes back to when I started dancing.  I wrote about the blankets and raunchy floor work in my last post.  I did wear dusters , played with feathered boas, and hats.  Dusters were fun.  I would love to spin around and hold the sides like they were stage curtains for my body.  However, I had no idea what a panel was.  Until last year, I had never seen any dancer use them.  There was also a diaphanous ballet spin in which the dancers arms are held high while she is holding on to her duster or cape.  I vaguely remember a tiny dancer with very long hair, Jasmine, incorporating this move into her routine.  I remember with her long blond hair and pastel colors,that this was a very beautiful effect.  Yet she was the only one I knew who did this.  I never quite got that move down.

I think by 1982, this style of dancing was fading out and morphing into something different.  Perhaps I should have been born earlier?

Last night I saw the Titans of Tease show.  Last year I was so enthusiastic about all of it.  This year: my feelings were a bit mixed.  There was a dancer Judith Stein, who I saw last year.  She was amazingly talented, original and energetic.  She stripped out of a striped pantsuit and did a sort of soft-shoe type dance.  It was adorable.  She was suppose to appear this year, but recently had two strokes. The MC read the personal note on why she couldn't attend. I had to stop myself from crying.  I didn't even know this woman.  It just reminded me to stop procrastinating because my energy could be taken as fast as hers.

On a happier note, the fucking fantastic Shannon Doah from San Francisco.  This woman danced in the 60's.  I did the math and if she started in the mid-60's at some illegal age, the youngest she could be is 60!  This woman is balls out , talented, sexy, beautiful dancer!  Her body is full and in prime shape.  Sure, it could be lipo , surgery...whatever.  But that energy, grace, power, control and creativity is all REAL!

I'm sure her act will be up on youtube soon.  But just to summarize , she starts her act on a love seat, smoking a hookah to the song "Go Ask Alice" and then finishes with two Doors songs in these amazing cut away, wide bell bottoms!  Val Valentine with her ballet grace, crazy control (she was moving only her abs I could see this with her clothes on from 15 rows away).  Haji, an original  Russ Meyer girl, who could whip and twirl her duster like a 20 year old dancer.  Apparently, she surfs nude at 6AM in the mornings on a private beach in Malibu.  My favorite, Holly Carroll a dancer/singer who has a voice that purrs and the energy of the energizer bunny.

These women give me the courage to go on.

Dance Styles and Stage Shows: From 1982 to present, Vol. I

Since I have been dancing for the last 30 years off and on, I have seen a lot of change in dance styles and shows.

When I first started at the Pink Poodle, we had no pole.  None of us had worked in a club that had poles.  Pole dancing was not even a phrase back then.  What we did have on that stage was: a puffy chair, big, burgundy, velvet curtains in which we would enter directly from our dressing room.  That was it. There was a bit of a built in "shelf" or an overhanging structure that was part of the wall on the left side of the stage.  Some of the more athletic dancers (moi) would use this lift ourselves and body swing a bit.

Almost all of the dancers used a blanket for floor work.  I actually miss that.  I just havent' found the right blanket:-(  I believe the blanket act really saved my knees.  I mean, how many 53 (tomorrow) year old dancers do you know without knee problems?

The oldest dancer I knew there (although she would never admit it) was "Diana".  If her overly tanned skin didn't give her age away, her dancing did.  What she did was quite elegant.  Almost like the tableau styles of the early 20th century.  ( If you have ever seen Boardwalk Empire.  The burlesque scenes with the amazing Gretchen Mol.  This is pretty similar).  She had her blanket and did floor work.  But she never spread her legs, or blatantly touched herself.  She had these slow, lyrical movements she would do with mostly her hands and arms.  Being a baby stripper at the time, I didn't get it.  But now, I get it.  She had a style and stuck to it.  There is something to be said about finding a style that works for you.  However, there is a fine line between being an original and seeming dated because you haven't bothered to tweak your style to make it more modern.

The other girls were more energetic or nasty.  Nasty, not in the booty-poppin' way, but just nasty.  Spread eagle right in your face nasty.  Since there were no lap dances back then, the patrons would love to sit right up at the stage to get a good view.  (We used to jokingly call that 'gynocology row').

I had my own ideas about dancing.  I thought that a healthy, lean body with tons of energy was the most beautiful thing.  I still do.  I have been blessed to have a lot of energy.  Sometimes, too much, lol!.  I used to love to get a slight running start and "dive" on my blanket to make it slide across the stage.  I remember Diana constantly telling me to slow down because it wasn't 'sexy'.  I couldn't help myself!

But I loved the feeling of speed, energy, flipping my body this way and that.  I even added some break dancing stuff.  I still dance that way, but I get the need for speed fed by a spinning pole.

I'll write more about this soon.  There is so much change and evolution of exotic dancing.  I can't write this in one session:-(.

"Workmen's Comp"

Ah yes!  Workman's Comp.  Now here is a term we don't hear about too much these days.  Once upon a time, strip clubs had this item.  Basically, it's a form of insurance wage replacement and medical benefits to employees who are injured during their term of employment at the location in which they are employed.  However, if the employee accepts workman's compensation, they give up the right to sue their employer.


The Pink Poodle employed us as part-time entertainers.  I had injured my knee while working.  I took a week off and I was compensated.  So simple.  There was another club, a bikini bar called The Brass Rail.  The dancers there would make a video of themselves dancing topless.  They would play this video on a film screen while the dancer danced on stage in a bikini.  Therefore, they were considered a "topless club".  At the time, the dancers were also employed as cocktail servers.  They had a drink quota.  If a dancer worked there at least fours shifts per week, she was entitled to low cost health insurance.


I realize clubs these days consider us independent contractors.  I know quite a few club owners who have problems keeping their dancers.  I've heard rumors of certain clubs in Southern California starting to give cash incentives to dancers who show up early or work a certain amount of shifts.  


I recall that neither the Pink Poodle or the Brass Rail had too many problems with dancers not showing up or completing their shifts.


I know that offering health insurance is not going to happen.  In the 1980's and 90's it was affordable.  Now, in the USA, I think anyone who has paid attention to the news or has tried to purchase health insurance knows the answer to that.


The fact that some clubs are deciding to pay us instead of the other way around is a small, positive start.

History of dance shoes: 1982 to present

(Again, I've been M.I.A.  I've been @ Coachella and Vegas.  Interesting times at both).


But I'm here now.  When I first started dancing, the highest heels I wore were all of 3 inches with no platform whatsoever.  They were usually pumps.  I recall I did have a pair of the infamous Frederick's of Hollywood mules which were strapless with the fuzzy feathers on the foot band.  I believe I had some maryjanes too.


Around 1985-86, I added ankle socks into the mix.  Back then, I still had a very young look, so I could rock them.  (No way I would do that now!).  I did graduate to some strappy high-heeled (still around 3 to 4 in.), but still no platform.


In the late 80's, I started taking a lot of various dance classes.  In my head, I fancied myself "a real dancer".  So, I went through a phase of wearing character shoes.  I think some people did find them adorable.  But looking back, I guess that was sort of a dork move on my part.


In the mid-nineties, I purchased my first pumps with a 1 in platform.  Apparently, this was a ground breaking move and a lot of my co-workers disapproved and really hated the look.  I found they were a bit more comfortable than the lower heels I had been wearing previously.  Who knew I was starting a future trend in my area, lol?


In the late nineties, I went through a period of wearing retro go-go boots.  Again, the heels were relatively low and being small I could pull them off.  I didn't start wearing actual platform boots with at least a five inch heel until 2002.  I was 42 then!


Finally, in 2003, I bought my first pair of 6 inch platform heels!  It took me over 20 years!!  In the past two years or so, I do prefer platform boots, but if I find a pair of magic heels, I go with them.


I think dancing in such low heels for so long has added to my longevity as a dancer.  Also, when I moved to San Francisco, I wore low heels or even Teva sandals because I walked those treacherous hills all the time.  Wearing low heels and flats were saviors to me feet and ankles.  At least I think that helped keep those areas strong.


If I can find some pics, I will try to stage an evolution of exotic dancer shoes.

Senior Citizen Stripper: I know, I've been MIA:-)

Senior Citizen Stripper: I know, I've been MIA:-): I cant' believe it's been a month since I've posted, but it has been.  My energy was completely centered on a recital given by the dance stu...

I know, I've been MIA:-)

I cant' believe it's been a month since I've posted, but it has been.  My energy was completely centered on a recital given by the dance studio that I work out in.  I'm in an advanced pole class.  Our choreographer/ instructor is a well known acrobat in the Hollywood/Los Angeles area. I was very honored to be chosen by her to be in her routine.  Everybody wanted to work with her.  She had nearly 16 dancers at first.  Then she started asking if they could do certain core moves like an aerial shoulder mount.  A few of them said they almost had it.  This was back in late January/early February.  One other dancer and myself were the only ones.  Fast forward to the middle of March...we were still the only ones.  The body count of dancers then went to 10.  We had to rework the choreography more than once and 4 hours before performance, me and the other aerial dancer got new choreography!  It was nerve racking, but a lot of fun.  People paid $20 a ticket to see us and we sold out our first show within a week.  We did two shows that day.

The dynamic of doing a team performance is so different than performing in a club.  People get so exited by the acrobatics of it all!  And you don't have to hustle and talk to them:-)  Women are totally cheering you on as well.  Oh and how can I forget: I performed without heels, not only without heels but without SHOES!!  I have never never ever pole danced without heels.  Hell!  I prefer boots over heels!  I relied on boots.  But this was the best thing that has happened to my dancing.  (I actually wore these sort of sticky, shiny leg warmers that protected my ankles from bruising and helped with my grip a little).  The benefits from training the last 6 weeks without heels are 1.) my posture is better, I saw from photos I can still look tallish (I'm so not) without heels, 2.) I am now confident in my muscles holding me up and not my boot heels, 3.) I realized I was doing some stupidly dangerous dismounts relying on my boots like I was and 4.) my inverts and iguana lifts are now done with my core and hip flexors, not by jumping/kicking up.  I have become a stronger dancer.

So, all the above is why I havent' written lately.  I'll get off my feet and sit on my ass so I can catch up!

Senior Citizen Stripper: Lap Dances: 1983 & Present

Senior Citizen Stripper: Lap Dances: 1983 & Present: Lap Dances. The Pink Poodle didn't have them or any of the clubs in the Silicon Valley in 1983. I had heard rumors of a club in Redwood Ci...

Lap Dances: 1983 & Present

Lap Dances.  The Pink Poodle didn't have them or any of the clubs in the Silicon Valley in 1983.  I had heard rumors of a club in Redwood City, CA called The Lily Theater that was opened in the 1970's and closed by the time I had started dancing.  They actually had sex shows on stage and would invite patrons to participate.  ( I do hope the "dancers" were well payed).


It had been a good year or so into dancing before I was confronted with the idea of a lap dance.  I was actually baffled by the idea.  I had been used to working in places in which patrons tipped me on stage because they thought I was attractive, fun...whatever.  So the thought of asking someone if I could sit in their lap was just preposterous to me!  They should just ask me.  The PP also paid us hourly and provided us with workman's comp (which I actually did use once and they were happy to provide).


I moved to San Francisco to pursue acting and just for the sheer excitement of living in the "city".  I had quit the Pink Poodle and had joined a company called "Stripper-Gram".  The company was run by part-time male models.  Most of the gigs I got sent out on were very PG rated.  I was usually hired as a gag for birthdays, tame bachelor parties (no toys or complete nudity) or even corporate events. (This was the 80's.  It would be so not PC to hire a stripper as a gag these days.  Even at one event in the 80's, the guy that hired me for a corporate event got drinks thrown in his face by three female employees!) So, even back then, civilian chicks hated on us:-)


Ahh, San Francisco!  So exiting!  It was the post-punk era, I had so much energy.  I would do 2 or 3 gigs in a night and got done with work early enough to go catch a live show like Killing Joke or Lords of The New Church.  I was hard-core!  I would go to clubs alone.  For the 80's , this was ballsy.  I loved the freedom.  But some of that energy was chemical.  This led to not getting it together to make my gigs or to not look perfect enough.  


When Stripper-Gram put me on suspension, I decided to look for extra work.  Being young and cute, it was not hard to find a dancing job in the city.  Hence, I got hired at The Sutter Street Theater.  This was my first club in San Francisco.  This was an "eye opener"so to speak.  First of all, dancer's received a small stipend to work.  I thought this was strange as I was used to getting paid hourly.  Then I found out that two girls were scheduled each night to do girl on girl shows.  I was so-o-o-o straight.  I had my attractions, but they few and far between.  None of these girls fit the bill.  This club was in an older building that used to be a traditional theater.  The seats looked to be very early 20th century with velvet cushions.  The stage was a basic proscenium stage with an extended runway.  The SST was located on , of course, Sutter Street, in a fairly posh part of town.  This is one of the reasons I chose it.  The theater was run by a guy named Bob (they are almost all "Bobs" and "Als"), and his wife whose name I can't recall who had a shrill British accent.  The club was fair in that we didn't have to give the club money from our lap dances.  The dances were done in the theater seats.  Back then, I was so secretive about my dancing career.  I would dress like I was working in an office job.  Since the weather is usually pretty cold up there, I would wear a big coat and scarf to cover my face, just in case someone recognized me.


I got hired there because I participated in a contest and won it.  I kept going back for contests, as I kept placing and I was making money.  Finally, I didn't place, so I finally accepted a job.


I just could not get over the fact that I had to ask a guy if I could sit in his lap:-(  I still can't). This place had a rather dark vibe to it, considering where it was located.  The management was fair, the DJ loved me, the few customers I meant were not so bad (except for the Japanese tourist who was at my stage and sleeping.  I kicked him awake.  It worked.).  It was the dancers.  There was something dark and sad about most of them.  The vibe and the girls had been so much lighter at the Pink Poodle.  This was the first place I saw my first pierced genitalia (1983), my first pierced anything (besides the punk safety pins) ever!!  I didn't feel ballsy anymore, I felt intimidated and kind of disgusted. I slowly started to feel despair.  There was no happiness there.  This was also the first club I was robbed by another dancer.


I didn't last long.  But I wasn't fired.  I politely left and I was welcomed back any time.


Eventually, I went back to the Pink Poodle.  Still no lap dances, but it had been almost a year and the vibe had changed there too.  New dancers were hired that had no dancing ability whatsoever.  There was Yvette Garcia who was called "super pussy'.  She spread her lips so far on stage, her gyno wouldn't have needed to insert the cold spreader thingies in her to do an exam.  And Sally, who would twirl a cigar and banana (though I never saw them at the same time) without using her hands.  I had an ex-good friend there, who was spreading rumors about me, so that didnt' help.  These people made me feel obsolete and not welcomed at barely 25!


I have somehow been able to avoid clubs in which lap dances are not the main source of income, but now they are diminishing.  I have become more accustomed to them, but I am still way too polite when approaching someone.  I once made over $300 in two stage dancing songs, just for going topless.  I have had nights where I have made nearly $1K without doing lap dances.  Even recently, I have pulled $100 within minutes on stage.




Off topic:  I'm sorry I hadn't posted in so long.  I've had family stuff come up with two relatives in extended hospital stays.  I will try to write on a more consistent schedule.

Senior Citizen Stripper: "I Really Like Your Booty Because There Are No Hol...

Senior Citizen Stripper: "I Really Like Your Booty Because There Are No Hol...: Yes, this was actually said to me tonight.:-) When I started this blog, I wanted to alternate between writing about my very distant past a...

"I Really Like Your Booty Because There Are No Holes in It".

Yes, this was actually said to me tonight.:-)


When I started this blog, I wanted to alternate between writing about my very distant past and the present.  I've been busy lately. I've felt like my present hasn't been too interesting.  I also knew if I went over a week without writing, I would lose the rhythm or schedule I had planned for myself.  (The following is what I have been doing lately:).  I have started rehearsals for a pole dance recital that I will be in on March 31st.  I get to be a boy.  We are being paired off and little ol' barely 100lbs me, gets to be a boy.  How did that happen?  It happened because I was the only one out of 12 dancers who was capable of demonstrating an aerial shoulder mount that night.  There were others who said they could do it, or that they would be able to do it by/before 3/31 (recital date).  Now I am OK with this boy stuff.  But what got to me was that the "boys" will be dancing barefoot.  BAREFOOT!!  In the almost 30 years that I have been dancing, I have danced barefoot to only one song for a period of a couple of months.  In most clubs, dancing barefoot is strictly not allowed!  Not only that, but I'm the tiniest one in this thing!  And..we have to flip our "girl" on to the pole using only our wrists/hands!  Most of those girls are a lot bigger than me and my right wrist had issues for nearly 8 months.   It's OK now and I would like it to stay that way, thanks.


So, this is what I've been doing.  It's more grueling than sexy.  I'm extremely fit at this point in time and learning a lot of new pole stuff.  It's maddening, but fun.


So about not having "holes" on my butt.  One of the clubs I work in is a club in which the clientele is mostly Latin.  Many of them were raised speaking Spanish, so their English isn't perfect.  Most of the women that work in the club are also Latin  They all want to look like Kim Kardashian, hence there are a lot of fake bootys in this club.  So this man pointed to another dancer with round, full, firm, fake booty (but slightly flabby hamstrings) and said "I mean your booty and legs don't look like that".  I am taking this as a compliment.


Another dancer and I were talking about the weirdness of our club.  It's been hit by the economy, just like all the others.  However, it has the potential to be the best club to make money without ever having to take your clothes off.  I make more money here than I do at the topless clubs I work in.  But for some reason most of the Latins guys I encounter really feel the need to grab what they are not suppose to grab during a dance.


Hmm...maybe it's just me..

Youth & Beauty vs. Je Ne Sais Quoi"

(This sort of sucks since I am writing this from my iPad, original generation ).


After three. Months or so of working at The Pink Poodle, I had shed my chubbiness by working out, eating sparsely and unfortunately snorting my way down to a very girlish 93 lbs or so. My unruly hair had grown longer. My breasts kept their perky B cups. (At that time, I was told I had the breasts photographers dreamed of photographing. But this was the early 80's. Implants had not taken over the industry...yet.). I also had 'Brooke Shields' brows, naturally. I was young, but was told that in certain angles and lights , I could pass for 14. (Creepy, I know. But in this business youth helps). I. WAS. CUTE.


I was. I was making decent money,building up a clientele, being responsible and even starting and IRA.


One night, I believe it was a Sunday, there was only a few dancers working. Two of them were much older than me and I was (we're talking needing little make up and being seen in daylight terms) the cutest by far. Iwas following this older dancer (early to mid thirties) called "Carrie". She was tall, blond, skinny, not particularly toned. She wasn't ugly, but you could tell she really liked the sun for a few years and Botox hadn't been invented for facial usage yet (it may have still been the poison a person could have ingested while eating a can of peaches or whatever). So, she wasn't the fresh faced cutie that I was at that time.


But the bitch made money! Me? I had to follow her. I was doing poorly:-(. (Remember, no laps dances here in the summer of '82, only stage sets). I just didn't understand.


There were about 15 of us house girls. I ranked around #3 or 4 out of the bunch. I could have understood if I had to follow the flawless Tia, the very pretty Crystal or the Latin sex bomb Precious.


But this was Carrie. She wasn't a house girl, but an older returning dancer. They introduced her as "The Human Tornado" because she moved so fast. I couldn't believe I was doing so badly. I felt so inferior. So ugly. I went in the back and broke down crying. Dan, the asst. manager found me. He gave me a hug and convinced me that I was not the failure I thought I was. He told me that most of those men were Carrie's regulars. I still didn't get why they would still be into this worn out, older "leather face"! (Btw,I started wearing sunscreen religiously on my face, rain or shine at 22. Trust me, it works. You should see my contemporaries, if they're still around, lol). He told me that her regulars found her sexy and alluring. I still didn't get why. I was so obviously, younger, cuter and in way better shape! (Around this time, the other younger dancer who had been in the business longer than me popped in and proceeded to lecture me on how in was egotistical to think I was better than this dancer, and what was so great about me anyway, et.). So, I started crying again. Dan told Celeste to get lost for a while. He then proceeded to tell me that Carrie made these men feel comfortable, special, sexier or downright horny. He explained to me that it wasn't always about "the pretty". Of course I responded with something like 'then why should I even bother putting on make up, shaving my body, learning how to be graceful,et.  He said I shouldn't neglect myself but just realize that sometimes it just comes down to chemistry and aura.


At the end of the night, I still didn't get it, but I had stopped crying.  In fact for years I didn't get it.  When I went on to work in other clubs, in different states and countries; there was always this somewhat unattractive dancer who banked more than me, consistently.  Se la vie, right?


So, now there is probably some young dancer crying because I'm the old bitch is banking and how could this happen to her because she is way hotter and way younger than me?? (LOL).


(Actually, this did happen when I was dancing with a 17 yr. old with a fake id and I was 25.  She was having a bad day and I wasn't and she couldn't believe it because I was so OLD!.  But she had a baby and although super pretty, her breasts looked like wrinkled, scrambled eggs.  I was "old" but my titties were perky:-)