When you work for a very long time at the same club, you get curious about what’s going on in other clubs, and you wonder whether you could do better somewhere else. Once in a wile I decide to go and scout out clubs in my area just to see what’s out there. My dear, supportive friend, Sheba, has meanwhile become my partner in crime, and she always joins me when I decide to go on a club scout. It is not just for fun to team up. It is also for my safety. Some of these clubs are in shady neighborhoods, parking is not always easy, and showing up alone at a strip joint as a single woman isn’t favored by the working dancers either. Entering the underworld of stripping as a female customer holds many more risks than being a male customer.

When Sheba and I arrive at that particular club which was marked online as a bikini bar, there is not much happening there yet. It is about 9:30pm on a Friday night, and after being each charged $5 cover fee we enter a nearly empty place. I see a fat Latino girl slide off her bra while her giant tits almost drop to her knees. Her knockers are real … for sure, but she would’ve done better keeping the supportive bra on holding those puppies up high. There are three dancers total and one customer on the floor. A skinny blond is throwing herself all over the customer who is sitting at the bar. Ugh, I can already see this might be a club that runs its rules to lose for my taste. We take a seat at the bar and spot a fat, short, female bartender with glasses. She looks like a Polish granny and speaks with a broken accent. I asks her, “Is the club always this slow?” She nods her head yes, but contradicts herself, “I hope they arrrre going to come late todayyyyy. I hope someone is going to come.” I think to myself, if nobody else, at least, the guy at the bar will cum at some point!!!!! I cut right to the chase and find out that I have to inquire about auditioning at the club by knocking on the managers door. Meanwhile the skinny, blond dancer has started a conversation with us, trying to find out if Sheba and I are a couple. We explain that we are both heterosexual while SkinnyBlond keeps touching Sheba’s hair to her annoyance. When SkinnyBlond is called on stage Sheba says, “It is a no no to touch a black person’s hairs.” I say, “It should be a no no to touch anybody’s hair without permission.” Sheba, after just being for about ten minutes in the club, “Are we done here? All these girls seem to be crack hos. You know, what this place reminds me off? That movie where they go to this strip club in the dessert and they all turn into vampires.” I try not to be judgmental … even a crack whore fills her gap in society. I say, ” Yeah, you mean the movie ‘From Dusk Till Dawn.’ I bet the writer of this movie got inspired by a place like this. It is creepy, surreal. We are good. Let’s get out of here.” Sheba, “Aren’t you going to knock on the manager’s door to talk to him? But let’s get out of here before the SkinnyBlond gets off stage and starts harassing my hair again.” I get up reluctantly because I really don’t want to audition nor work at this club, neither do I want to talk to their manager but something tells me it will make a good story to knock on the thick metal door. So I do knock. A raspy, deep voice calls me in. When I open the door I see a fat, short, angry man talking on the phone. He acts like I interrupted his phone call without permission, although, he called me in and says angrily with a thick accent, “Whhhhat iz it?” I say politely, “I wanted to find out when you hold auditions.” Him acting important, “Give me two minutes.” I step out again till he calls me back in 15 seconds later. He checks me out from head to toe and is a little confused because I am wearing my $250 Italian designer boots with a red designer leather skirt, and I don’t look anything like his dancers, and he says, “Sooooo, you arrrre looking forrrr a job as a dancerrrrr. Why?” I am surprised about his question. Why does anybody want to dance as a stripper? Duh … to make money … but I once more answer politely, “I am not happy at my club so I am just looking around.” Him, “Wherrre arrrre you currrrrently dancing?” Me, “I don’t want to share this information. I prefer not to bash my club.” Him angry, “This is not a good base to starrrt on. Why arrrre you lying to me about yourrrr club?” I explain, “I am not lying, I just don’t want to share this information.” Him insisting and getting more and more into my face thinking he can intimidate me, “Do you underrrrrstand my point? It is not a good thing you arrrre lying to me!” Me, “I don’t understand, and I am not lying.” Him, “What else arrrrre you not going to tell me then??? You underrrrstand what I mean.” Me very innocently, “No, I do not understand what this has to do with anything.” Him in rage now fully yelling at me while I am just calmly looking at his red face trying not to suffocate from his bad breath while he is hyperventilating because he cannot seems to intimidate me and break me, “Welllllll, if you don’t underrrrrstand this then maybe it is not such a good idea to worrrk here afterrrr all.” Me calm and happy, “I think you are right. OK.” And I walk out the door as his jaw drops him almost fainting in disbelieve I didn’t start crying and begging for a job at his Schleim club. Sheba is surprised, “You are done already?” Me, “Yes, we are done. I outraged the manager.” Sheba in disbelieve, “YOU! What happened?’ Me, “He was mad because he couldn’t intimidate me, and I didn’t make him feel powerful.” Sheba shocked, “Let’s get out of here. Everybody is ugly here.”

It seems to be my typical experience walking as a confident woman into a strip club. Managers get suspicious (maybe they think I am an undercover cop) and don’t seems to like to deal with a woman who has her shit together. They look for desperate girls who are at their mercy and who they seems to be able to control and manipulate. A confident, smart stripper isn’t much wanted in most clubs. We are suppose to live up to the stupid, drug addicted, dumb bitch image that society labels us with. But I do believe we strippers are on the rising. We are women, and we are powerful. And we will change this image one stripper at a time.

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