Monday, June 8, 2009

The New Girl...

That's what they used to call me. Even a few days before I quit.

When I first auditioned, the dayshift manager told me that I'd make good money; that I looked "fresh." And I guess I did. I didn't have 10 different lycra outfits, 6 different pairs of heels, and the professional smile that all the other girls had. I still don't. I also didn't have that distinctive hardened look that comes from years of cigarette smoke, late nights, and a bad diet. I still don't have that either.

I never really got my "hustle" down pat. I was getting better, realizing how to talk to customers into getting dances, rather than making them think I wanted to be their girlfriend, but then I had to quit. School was over for the semester and I had to go home. I only worked for about 6 weeks, but it felt like forever.

Now I've transferred to a new school in a different city. Stripping is calling my name. Not just because of the quick money, but because of the rush. I miss putting on my face, and a different woman's personality. I miss the ritual of it all.

I want to dance again, but I doubt I'll have the freedom I used to have at my old club. The city I live in now tends to have higher standards and stricter business practices. Also, I'm not sure I'll have the time.

I don't quite know where this post is going so I'll just end it here.

No comments:

Post a Comment