First off, my preference is to call it “dancing” as opposed to “stripping”.  Dancing is definitely one of my favorite hobbies and now I’m paid to do it.  I also dance formally (meaning with a dance company), though at the moment I am paying someone else to teach me, as opposed to being paid to show my skills.  The day will come soon enough.  That section of my life is not, however, what this journal will cover.  My life is very segmented and needs to remain that way to maximize performance, and again, safety, so thanks for all your understanding.

Let me start this off by saying that this job, this industry, is one of the most difficult ones out there.  It is physically and emotionally demanding and can lead to addictions, break-ups, prostitution, you name it.   At the same time it can be completely rewarding.  Generally there are two ways of looking at it from a dancer’s perspective, as with most jobs.  You can despise the customers, loathe coming in, get in fights; beat yourself up inside and end up in debt over your head.  On the other hand, you can see yourself in a completely empowering position, have fun, get in terrific shape, and have people literally throw money at you just for doing what you love – dancing.  Being female of course also brings other monthly challenges, both physical and emotional, and more intense (in my case) than I can explain.  I am also bipolar but being unemployed for so long has left a pretty lasting depression burned into my brain.  In these first few days back to work I have managed to work about 20 hours, in stilettos, while still taking formal classes and going to a rehearsal, and had cramps on top of all of that.  My goal is to keep smiling and keep making money; so far it has worked. It's also nice to be able to come home to a retardedly sexy boyfriend that you love, and know that he knows you were thinking about and missing him through your stint at work.

I began dancing as an adult entertainer some time in 2002.  My bartender’s license led me to seek out related jobs, and an ad was in the paper for bartenders and drink servers.  The phone call was made; the interview was set; the management… lied.  At that point a warning light should have kicked in, but apparently it was more of a check engine light instead.  Upon arrival I was told that they were looking for only “drink servers”, meaning girls that would do everything the regular dancers did excluding a stage show.  Normally drink serving was more of a bartender’s assistant, so I kept my hopes up and applied.  At least the outfits would be cute, right? 

After the initial application, trip to the police department (San Diego clubs require a license to work if you’re not a general employee), and chat with the owner, I was in my knee-high PVC boots and prancing around the club.  Our shift choices were 3 p.m. to 12 a.m. or 9 p.m. to 4 a.m.  The latter was not an option until you were considered ready, which could have been anywhere from a week to a month.  Eventually a 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. shift was added, but it never really mattered.  After a few hours of getting used to being very scantily clad I realized that drink serving was a fictional position made up to get the girls ready for being a regular dancer.  I also realized it was the only way to make money.