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[Nov. 13th, 2009|04:35 pm] |
A lot of girls growing up think that they are going to eventually find prince charming. I had given up on that so long ago. For me, the idea of love had dissapeared. Maybe it was an abusive relationships or the guys that constantly let me down when I was younger. I had settled with the fact that love for me would never happen.It didn't mean I didn't date, but I would grow bored within a few months and move onto the next. No man had ever given me a reason to stay, No man had ever convinced me that he would not abuse me. No man had had proven to me that he was different from the next.
Sex for me was never the picture perfect moment of emotion attachment. To me, sex was just sex. It was fucking and emotions and sex did not mix for me. This of course maybe means I am a whore, but I am not. I just decided that I never wanted to be hurt. So with that, I acted like a guy. Sometimes I would go home with a guy from a bar and I would wake up in the morning, slowly remove his arm from around my head, quitely putting my clothes back on and sneak back to my apartment so that I could get the rest that I needed. I would always recieve calls later that day, asking if he could take me out and they usually did not get responded too. He had been merely a guy that tried to fill the void inside of me that had felt empty, and did, for a night anyways, but he was of no one importance and usually someone I would never want to see or talk to again.
Often times, after dating someone for a few months. Sometimes because I felt that eventually he would leave me, so I would spare myself the heartache. I would leave unexpectly. Never because they did anything wrong but because I was bored. I was bored of the dinner dates and the movies and falling asleep in someones arms. I didn't need to be with a man to be happy, I was perfectly happy on my own, with my friends, attending parties and shopping and being able to do whatever I pleased.
So for me, dancing was nothing. Sex sells in this society. In a given night, I would talk to over 200+ men. All of them would blend together. At the time, I would make them believe that they were the most extradionary man on earth, but I was usually spacing off while they told me about there problems. Some would ask me out on dates, I would laugh. I didn't think that they could take me seriously or respect me after seeing me dance. Because to most, it is self-degrading. I did not feel self-degraded when I would get on that stage. I would feel a sense of power and control over men that I had never had before. They would gauvel at me. I was the mere fantasy for them to get off. I was the "perfect girl" to them with my hair, make-up, and nails perfect. I was the object of their affection. I was the girl that they could never get out on the streets and I had complete power and they payed, they were willing to pay, just for me to take off my clothes.
I'm sitting in class and the clock blinks 11:30am. I have a half an hour to go. The teacher drones on and I am not really listening. My friend sitting next to me whispers, "You look exausted, late night last night?" I laugh. He has no idea where I had been last night. No one knew what I did at school, not even my best friend. I kept it that way because I found early on that when men know that you dance, they look at you like your a "whore" even when your not. I had a "good girl" reputation at school and I wanted that one to stick rather than a bad one.
I remember the night that changed a lot. Maybe it was a good change. It was a regular night at the club, I was sitting with some gentelman in a very short skirt and bra. I look across the room and realize that the group of guys that had just entered were in one of my classes the next morning... |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 13th, 2009|04:35 pm] |
Its 5:00 A.M and I still can't sleep. I just toss and turn with the thoughts in my head. I had gotten back late tonight. The night was decent, could always be better. It always just depends on the crowd. A lot of people ask me, "Do you like it? Dancing?" and I would be lying if I said I hated it. Of course, there were some nights that I just wanted to break down and cry. But most nights, I was an ear to listen to as men consoled with me about their fears and ambitions. Some would just come in to talk because they had no one else. The club was a lot like highschool with the other girls. Always competeting and starting rumors. This was the reason I bounced around to so many within the year. I never had any real altercations with the other girls, but I would grow tired of the setting and need a change. It was always easy to find work. Some of the jobs would last a week, a day, a couple months. But there was only one club that I felt mattered and that oddly, I would always miss. After being gone for a couple weeks, I would usually return for a while.
There was one club that sticks out in my mind more than the others. The others are just all blended together. The first club I danced at, I would repeadtly go back too. Although the money wasn't to great there, the girls were. It felt almost like a family and not a sketchy buisness anymore. We consoled in eachother. They were there for me when the boy that I loved, left, because he couldn't take what I did. I was there for them when they needed someone to depend on. We cried together when we recieved the call about one of the girls overdosing. We attended the funeral together. We helped eachother leave abusive boyfriends and we overcame lifes challenges together. And the managers actually cared about us and our lives, instead of just seeing us as dancers, they saw us as people. They knew that some of us were struggling with drug addictions/eating disorders. They offered a helping hand instead of just ignoring the problem. At this point in my life, drugs were not the problem, but an eating disorder was which I will get back to because I definitly was not in a good enviorment to deal with an eating disorder. After a night of work, we would lye on the roof of the club and stare at the stars and see what life had to offer and discuss the night. It was those summer nights with them that I felt most alive. We all had dreams that were way to big for us and sometimes reality snuck in, causing an eery feeling in the air. Most of them dreamed of modeling, or leaving the city. What suprised me most was all of them believed in love. True love. I-can't-stop-thinking-about-you-I-need-you-love. They were convinced that prince charming was out there somewhere, and I grew jelouse because they still had hope and I didn't. A couple of them would find prince charming and leave the buisness and live happily ever after. I myself at that point had given up on love alltogether. I had seen husbands cheat on their wives, boyfriends of girls ask out the girls working, I had seen divorces and listened as men had told me about their cheating wives and custody battled. I had listened to young guys tell their girlfriends on the phone that they loved them, only to return into the club and find a girl to go home with. I had seen the worst of the male population and it had started to really effect me. I hadn't dated anyone in so long and at that point wasn't sure if I would ever again.
I had lost all hope for love until he came along... |
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[Sep. 4th, 2009|03:25 pm] |
*My name is Ashley. Well, its not but thats what I tell all of the customers that come through the double glass doors. Thats probably the best part about the job. I can be anyone that I want to be. It's like all of my past mistakes have dissapeared and I am perfect. To them, I am perfect. I am the girl that these guys could never get outside of the club. The girl that they never would have the courage to say hi to unless for the setting that we are at. I get to make up a whole story about where I am from and who I am. Who else gets a chance to change their complete identity? It makes me feel superior.I am sitting at the bar, waiting for customers to come in. Still early in the night, its not too busy. I am wearing pretty much just a bra and underwear. I have grown accostumed to being naked, or wearing pretty much nothing. It has started to affect my relationships, but thats something that will be explained later. I watch as a couple of the dancers on stage twirl around and start to take off their clothing, I realize that I am completely on my own. None of my friends know where I am. They are all so judgemental. I have been living a secret life from them for almost a year now and I couldn't be any happier. Its a quite night at the club. I see a gentlemen walk up to the stage and slip a couple of ones in the girls G-string. As I sit at the bar, I think about all of the different people I have met...and the one that I met my first night that changed me forever...
*I remember my first night so clearly. Its not an experience that someone can just erase from their mind. I remember walking into the club. I was so nervouse. I didn't know how it was going to be or if I was going to be able to really get naked in front of a bunch of strangers. I was sitting at the bar, waiting for customers to come in, nervously tapping my nails against the bar. Thats when it happened. I saw him walking through the door. He looked like he was about twenty-three. He was so cute. I smiled at him and he came over. I introduced myself and he told me I looked gorgouse, giving me a confidence boost that I needed. I smiled at him and explained that it was my first night. He is the one that changed everything. That made the journey of the next year so eventful and itneresting...which is why I could never forget... |
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[Sep. 4th, 2009|03:22 pm] |
I sit on my bed in my one-bedroom apartment. The clock blinks 4:00am and I can't remember a time when I had gone to sleep before 3:00am. I can already sense what is going to happen outside. The sun is going to start to rise and then the birds are going to begin to chirp. A scene that has demonstrated in front of my eyes too many sleepless mornings. 8, 000$ cash is sitting on my bed next to me. I feel peacful and at rest. It had been a year since I had started dancing. I had countless long nights, crazy parties, cash sprawled out all over my floor. I had gone to Paris with someone I barely knew and drank untill sunrise. I had gone on dates with cops and I had lived for the past year to the fullest. I had also seen the bad. I had counsuled husbands whos wifes had cheated, talked to buisness men who had lost everything due to the econcomy. I had watched grown men break down and counsul in me. Someone who they felt they could be themselves around. I had learned a lot of lessons in the past year that some miss out on. Someone had asked me earlier that night: "What made you get into dancing" and suddenly, my mind was like a broken record replaying the events of the last year....
Most people think that strippers are horrible people. That they come from broken families or need the money beacuse they are drug addicts. I have heard all of the stereotypes and I probably have been asked all the questions. I was your average teenage girl at twenty years old. I attented a good college and came from a middle-class family. My parents never fought and my little sister adored me. I was an average student in school. I was never in real trouble expect for missing curfew. I never thought I would do somthing like strip untill I came across an online advertisment and applied...as a joke. What I never expected was to get hired...or to do it...or the things that came after... |
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