On October 1st, 2019 at 9:47am my pitch went out to HuffPost Personal …
To whom it may concern,
A HuffPost article: “Strippers Are Turning to Old-School Union Tactics to Fight for Fair Wages” (June, 2019) inspired me to share my story.
At 47, it’s time to retire. Not because I am ready. Not because I have enough saved in a 401K or have a spectacular pension, but because a change in California law has made it impossible to continue to work and make a living to support my family.
I’m a stripper.
I live and work in Los Angeles and have danced in full-nude, topless clubs and bikini bars throughout the city. I started dancing to help my family weather the hit of 2008 believing it would be a short-term gig.
A decade later, I’m still dancing two nights a week at a Hollywood bikini bar.
“Hustlers” has been the buzz of entertainment news for months. While the actors were training and visiting strip clubs with friends and lovers in tow to research their roles, something very real was happening for the women in Los Angeles strip clubs. Like a methanol fire invisible in daylight, California strippers went from independent contractors running their own lucrative businesses to “employees.” The clubs which once supported their livelihoods became their pimps, and no one seemed to care.
Becoming an employee has changed the way I run my business and cut my income by 70%. I’m not alone. In order to adhere to the new law, clubs all over the city have formulated schemes to profit and take even more money from dancers. Changing the way many of us are now working in the club. Gone are the days of lap dances—where you could walk with some good cash even after your shift end payout. Those of us who planned for two or three more years before we called it quit on stage realize this is the end of the hustle. I want people to understand strippers are more than stigmas, stereotypes and gold diggers.
I am a blogger https://tiltdiary.wordpress.com/whats-new-with-tilt/ and author of a self-published memoir “Tilt: Diary of a Virgin Stripper” and a fictional book of adult fairy tales https://www.amazon.com/A-A-Jones/e/B00HAZ06SY/ref=dp_byline_cont_book_1
It’s 3:00AM and I am tiptoeing into my house trying not to wake my sleeping family. I place my stack of hard-earned cash in the drawer and then shower to wash off the night.
I’m a stripper. My family is a pack of baying Coonhounds who once triggered could wake the entire neighborhood.
My bruised thighs and tired limbs hit the sheets, and I know I have 3 hours before hot breath in my face signals sunrise and my first task of the day the AM walk with my pack.
Feet punished from 6 hours pinched in 8-inch stilettos are laced into sneakers. Once everyone is leashed, we are out the door. We hit the streets while my Los Angeles neighborhood is still sleepy, quiet and filled with the sound of panting and metal tags clicking against collar stays. As my feet pound the pavement beside 4 sets of paws, I find joy in knowing that my pack will eat well based on the money I made. This is how Wednesday and Sunday mornings went for almost a decade.
The consequences of the change in law and club practices at the expense of my family (this will be described in detail)
My 5 hounds are rescued from all over the country. Long ears and ticked coats no one else wants or can handle headed for death row.
We have Kansas with epilepsy and a rare autoimmune disease. Arizona deemed un-trainable due to a starvation induced food obsession. North Carolina who arrived with a body full of buckshot, five broken teeth and a seemingly incurable case of hook and nose worm. Northern California with red flag human aggression and Miss Los Angeles incontinent since birth. They are my family, and they are why I strip.
My financial future will have to be re-framed as I hang my stilettos in the closet and close this chapter. Much like the customers felt free to express themselves in the club I felt freedom there too. On stage, my dance channeled whatever I was feeling angry, sad, wild, vulnerable, frustrated all that was important was that I was raw and real. Inspiring people to think and feel, wake them up. Shaking truth into them when I booty quaked and turning them upside down when I inverted, making them realize that what they thought was impossible might be closer than they could ever imagine. Stripping leaves an invisible tattoo. The insight into human behavior that has served me outside of the club. I understand the power in front of me (my boobs) and the power behind me (my ass) and I will rely on them no matter how old I am. I will always be Jones. I had the courage to do what it took to save my family a decade ago. I may mourn the stage, but nobody will pimp me. Not the management, the club owners or the government, and I’ll continue to dance even if it’s only in front of the mirror in my own room.
I hope you enjoyed this excerpt of my life. I would love to tell the world my whole story.
Sincerely,
A.A. Jones
Stay tuned to hear what reply I received from the Editorial Director of HuffPost Personal … to be continued …
https://tiltdiary.wordpress.com/Jonesing for more? http://www.amazon.com/dp/1257802860/ref=dra_a_rv_ss_ho_it_P1400_1000?tag=dradis-20
Or watch http://vimeo.com/59749732
Or click on https://www.amazon.com/author/aajones
Tilt: Diary of a Virgin Stripper 