It Goes Bump in the Night
I had been talking to the production company, I went to work for in L.A. for 7 months before I decided that it was the right fit for me. Many people will be surprised by the abrupt announcement regarding my occupation. The truth is, it is something I have been researching for quite a while. Surprisingly (not at all to me), it is a line of work that excites and invigorates me.
I pretty much get paid to work out and be fabulous.
I have been an exotic dancer since April 2018. Many people think it is a soul sucking, dirty job. Providing the perfect conditions to lose yourself.
People who come into the club say things like,
“You don’t look like you belong here.”
“I didn’t think you worked here.”
(Did the stripper heals and pole tricks not give it away?)
“If you loved yourself, you would not be here.”
(oh yeah, that’s my favorite)
“What must your father think?”
“SHOW ME YOUR PUSSY!”
“Are your private dances….good?”
“How much is it to sleep with you?”
Of course, most people who come into the club are kind and respectful.
However, you’re more likely to notice the bad drivers on the road than you are the good drivers.
Call me naive.
Definition of Naive: of or denoting art produced in a straightforward style that deliberately rejects sophisticated artistic techniques and has a bold directness resembling a child's work, typically in bright colors with little or no perspective.
I was hired as an exotic dancer. Often times, I am solicited for sex when working at the club. At one time, that question made me so upset. I thought, "How can someone degrade my work and my intention?" Then I started telling myself, it's the result of me doing my job well. I successfully managed to turn these people on and make them believe that I wanted them. How could I blame or be mad at them? I used to justify and say, “No. I am only a dancer. I don’t do things like that.” or “Somethings, money can’t buy.” Then I started asking, “Where are you going to take me?” They would reply, “To the motel, to the beach, to my house, wherever you want to go.” Now when people solicit me for sex, I don’t say anything at all. I smile and I thank them when the dance is done. Now when they ask for my telephone number, I give them my website.
Since I first started dancing in April 2018, I have had the honor of dancing for men and women of all ages (over 18), people of all ethnicities, handicap people, gay and trans people, couples, and even a pregnant woman. Most people understand fantasy from reality and their expectations are fulfilled. I love dancing for these people. They see me as a radiant, powerful goddess- down to earth, warm, and creative. These people often say, “You look like someone who loves their job.” They are right, I do. Then you have the people who are respectful but, cannot discern fantasy from reality. They believe I am their lover- their one and only. THEN you have the people who could care less about me as a person. They try to play with me like a rag doll. These are the people asking, “How much to sleep with you?” while pulling their dicks out.
Most of the time these men are of Hispanic and Indian decent. Surely, there are cultural standards playing out. Sometimes when I am dancing for an Indian man, I will see him morph into a small child in a candy shop. The excitement, joy, and longing for the sugar is so overwhelming. It causes them to lose all control and respect. As their lips stretch to suckle on my dry nipples, I am reminded of the thirst for sexual liberation and longing for a connection to the mother. I pull back to communicate with my body language. I do not like what they’re doing. They sadly, sulk into their chair. Sometimes, I swear they are crying.
Next in line is the short, Hispanic man who is pursing his lips at me. Quickly wiggling his tongue back and forth, he uses all his strength to press my weight against him. My brain turns to scrambled eggs as he bounces my body up and down, like I am a jockey in the last stretch of a race. What starts off as a dance, quickly escalades into a power struggle between two opposing forces. Suddenly, the security guards pokes his head around the corner (he’s been watching the cameras the whole time) and says, “Quit it!” You may be wondering at this point, why would I not walk away from the dance? I see these dances as opportunities to practice resistance. I think some people are turned on as I push them against the chair with my size 9 foot, threatening their scrawny genitals. Telling people NO, gives them something to look forward to- or the illusion of it, anyway.
From the moment my body started protruding, I was objectified by my peers, teachers, and family members. I didn’t understand the attention I was receiving. I was mortified by it. I wanted to disappear. So I did what I could to hide myself. I wore long baggy shorts and my dad’s t-shirts to cover my curves. When I was alone, I would raid my mothers closet of all of her high heals and tight fitting summer dresses. I fit her cloths perfectly at age 12. While I didn’t have the courage to wear her cloths to school, I was filled with so much joy and happiness to dance in my mothers dresses, in front of the mirror. Shortly after the tomboy phase, I started dressing goth. This was my most successful defense mechanism. It protected me from the attention my body received.
Any attention was better than attention, that I would receive for my body.
I never thought in a million years that I would bare my body to hundreds of people for money. NEVER! At some point, I became addicted to overcoming my fears. I became tired of hating myself. My mother and friends were constantly reminding me of my beauty and self worth. I was convinced they were saying it because they are friends and family. I took for granted their compliments.
It took seeing myself in the eyes of strangers, to realize my beauty.
I know my mother is rolling her eyes and shaking her head right now. I love you mom.
Exotic Dancer- a performer who dances professionally
Stripper- a performer who dances professionally
Pole Dancer- a performer who dances professionally
Lap Dancer- a performer who dances professionally
Ecdysiast- a performer who dances professionally
Peeler- a person or thing that peels
