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The Unurban again.
I managed to walk out and quit a club that I have been working in off and on since I moved to LA on Tuesday. This will be short. After having a great weekend and a solid class on Monday, I walked into work finding out that I was the only dancer working. For the entire shift! Ok,I can deal if I pace myself. Customers came in. But only a couple voluntarily tipped me or even looked at me:-( I was doing my usual bomb show: pole tricks that nobody else does, booty poppin', smiling, saying hello. But no. Did. Not. Work.
Then the bartender gets on stage. She is not one of the finer bartenders. She is a nice lady, but so am I. But she is out of shape, over weight, old (I am too, but I take care of my stuff), I think she wears a wig (she's white), she's a cancer survivor with reconstructed breasts( brutally so). But she banks. So I go up after her. NOTHING! One guy was talking to me but didn't put anything on stage. I finally just asked if I was really that hideous? Finally one guy puts a couple of bucks up there. I lost it, was in tears, walked off.
Perhaps I'm over sensitive, but I was the ONLY dancer there. No sympathy? I could have just avoided the crowd, rolled around on stage and not speak to anyone. But I chose to put effort into my show, smile and say Hi to each one. Apparently, my attractiveness level in this run down club is in the toilet. (The one all the smoking dancers smoke around). I may have insulted the bar tender in a back handed way. I'm sorry she was hit with breast cancer. I'm not saying I'm better than her because I'm healthy. But am I not at least as nice as her? As attractive?
Apparently not. I was going to leave anyway because the staff and dancers smoke in the building with no ventilation.
Location:The Unurban in Santa Monica