Confession: I was an Exotic Dancer

"Dancing in topless clubs helps women become poised, self-confident and creative individuals who often go on to higher education and successful business careers."
- Judith Lynne Hanna
(PhD, a senior research scholar at the University of Maryland)

A Business Machine

Let me first start to address the quote above, I believe it's very true. After all, everyday you use your business skills, money management, marketing,"branding", and accounting as an exotic dancer. Being successful while involved in an adult profession takes a delicate balance of fantasy mixed with reality, responsibility, and self-discipline. The adult industry can be profitable, it can also turn you out. Mismanagement can lead to self destruction, drugs, and prostitution quickly. The reality is yes, some females are trying to pay their way through college, while others just love the life. All that glitters is not gold.

My Flirtation with The Club

It all started when I decided I was in love with my body and that the easiest way for me to make money would be to share it with others. That was it. Simple as could be, I loved the shape of my thighs, breasts, butt, and hips. The allure of going to dance for men in the club to make money for showing my sensuality was enough. I decided to go to a local club. This was a mostly white club that catered to working class blue collar guys. As soon as I walked in the manager asked when I could start. I said I didn't want to dance, just bartend, and I started the next night. I showed up in a short skirt and low cut top. The dancers were in the club dressing room getting prepared to dance. I made more on my first night bar tending than some of the strippers did dancing. I was excited, but the girls weren't.
One of the females had been drinking all night and she couldn't find her money at the end of the night, and accused me of stealing it. I immediately made it clear that I had no interest in her money or fighting over petty cash. The chick eventually found her money in her truck. She apologized and drove home to accommodate one of her "regulars". The bouncers all tried to hook up with the girls, the girls hooked up with the management and the customers, and everyone had a grand old time. I was interested in none of it. I worked at the club for another three days, making an attempt to deal with the craziness. Dancers were complaining because I didn't have to dance and they felt I should have to. Plus the fact that all the younger guys visiting after their sport events in the evening gravitated towards my innocence and girl next door look. There were fights nightly at the club. The other dancers were mad that their regulars were all that they were pulling in. This was a "drink hustle"club, where you really didn't make much money from the dances. The men would buy you drinks, you split a portion of the drink with the bar. When I ended my employment they owed me a couple hundred dollars for bar tending but I didn't care to collect on it. I just charged it to the game.

Maybe This Time It Will be Different

They say every strip club has a different feel, and different type of females. I found that this was true. My next encounter was at a larger club. I walked in and was greeted by a girl I had gone to high school with. She was assistant manager and said she'd love to have me work at the club. I started a week later. I loved the environment of this club, and the music was my style. This club catered mostly to a black crowd, as a result my bank was much more profitable. Apparently they loved my thighs, breasts, butt, and hips as much as I did. The d.j was really good and took me under his wing. He'd play songs to showcase me and bring attention to me. My first night many of the girls in the dressing room were welcoming..very welcoming. I was offered tips on how to hustle, what type of men frequented the club, who to look out for, and also some of the dancers offered me sex and/or drugs. Ahem..needless to say I'm a straight laced person just trying to make some cash so this threw me off. I found out quickly that the girls that welcomed me so willingly were pimping out other females, or selling them drugs. In essence some of the girls were in there dancing and shaking just to make enough to pay for some Ecstasy that the girl's were selling. I just went out, danced, and tried to keep to myself. The men loved me but I wasn't really into pushing up on men that I had no attraction to, and playing the game. I made good money at this club, but the real money was made hustling drinks,and after the club was out with the customers. Yes, some of the girl's were very upfront with the fact that they offered services after the club for a larger price than what they were making in the club. Most of my tips made were from men choosing to buy me a drink, or straight up offering me money just for sitting and conversing. Some offered advice on how to hustle, and what to say. But if it's not in you...then it's just not in you. My dancing lasted a week at this club.

It Ended as Quickly as It Began

My love and respect for men as a whole ultimately led to the end of my short stint as a dancer. I loved men too much to sit and take advantage of those who were just there for a good time, and to put up with those men who were in there trying to catch some strange after the girl's left the club. My services weren't for sale, and at a strip club that's your whole hustle. That's your bread and butter, and without a hustling mentality you won't succeed long as a dancer. My stint as a whole lasted just shy of 2 weeks. Some of the men I met were sweet, some I met were aggressive and desperate. The range of men was endless. So were the possibilities. When taking on a job as a dancer the nightly toll it can take on your mental and physical health, and the disconnect from men can sometimes lead to a distrust of men because of the many situations you see. You encounter the cheaters, the beaters, the womanizers, and underbelly of society of a nightly basis and you cater to them. I was unable to make a disconnect from men and fully carry out the hustle. I saw a side of men that few see. They'd look into my eyes almost trance like, and hand over their cash with a sparkle in their eyes. They wanted to put the cash in my garter as much as I wanted it in there. Sometimes it was almost scary how vulnerable they were. The bottom line is that I didn't have the heart for it, but I can't knock anyone's hustle.