Look Through Me

When you look at me, remember, I’m not looking back at you. Oh, it may seem like you have my full attention as I slither around on stage, or while I sit curled in your lap, but really, I’m not looking at you. I’m looking through you.

On stage I look through you to the mirror behind your head. While I give you my sexy eyes, I check my reflection right next to your head. I pout, and sway, and pose, and check myself. My hair, my clothes, my body. I am not looking at you.

In your lap I look through your head. I let my eyes relax, my pupils dilate. I give you a blank, inviting stare, smiling like a doll. I think about all the money I will make. I visualize my will melting over you like warm butter. I impose my desires on you. I make you think that what I want is really what you want. I stare through you and tell you that you want a dance. You agree.

Working again!

And making pretty god money! Not as good as I would've liked but I try not to be greedy. If I walk away from this weekend having made $800 I'll be very happy.

It was interesting falling back into the routine of dancing last night. Walking through he dressing room I was hit by waves of deja vu. I made $380 last night, and that's pretty good for me. If I had stayed until close I would have definitely cleared $400.... but I guess thats life.

A lot of the dancers I knew have left, and the ones who are still there only remembered me after some reminding. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but  it's still odd having to reintroduce yourself to an entire club.

Last night (like every night) was full of interesting customers, including H., a redneck from Oklahoma who fell madly in love with me by the end of the night, and J., a high school English teacher who repeatedly asked me if I thought I was better than the other dancers working.

I get his type alot. The guys who love to tell me how smart I am, and how much better I am than all the other girls. Guys who like to say things like "Wow, you look like girls I hang out with," subtly implying that we could realistically be friends despite the fact that they're 30+ and married. I never know what to make of these guys. Are they good-hearted but generally misguided, or are they just arrogant douches? I don't know.

Stripping has certainly jaded me to men. Daily objectification isn't good for one's faith in humanity, but despite it all, I still enjoy it and I will be going in again tonight. I'm just glad I have a wonderful man in my life already who routinely reminds me of the good in the opposite gender.

This weekend

I'll be heading back up to Philly for two nights working at my old club.

I miss the money, the glamor, the feeling of empowerment. I'll be staying with a friend who I met working, and who still works there. It promises to be a rip-roaring good time with much drunkenness for all. Unfortunately, parking in the city is super expensive and I'll probably end up spending close to $60 for parking and highway tolls (not to mention gas). It puts a bit of pressure on me to make enough cash to justify the trip, but maybe that'll just improve my hustle.

I have two new outfits, I'm in as good or better shape as when I left, and I have a friend to help me make money. I'm feeling pretty positive about the whole thing. Wish me luck and lotsa financial success.

On a totally separate note, I've started packing for my move to DC and it's really fucking with my head. Moving is making me really look at what's most important to me in my life, and how much of that I want to bring with me.

The idea of living alone with no roommate or family members is a little scary, not because of concerns for my own safety, but because I've never done it before. I'm a creature of contact, I need human relation and I'm terrified that living alone will push me farther into the solitude I've found myself growing accustomed to. I feel oddly alone right now, and I can't decide if it's a bad thing.

Maybe its time for me to do something on my own. Maybe its time that I learn how to be alone without completely self-destructing. Maybe its time for me to learn how to balance solitude with a social life. Up until now I've always been either super social or totally removed from society. Finding balance is something I've never been able to do. Maybe now I'll have to.

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.