Back...continued....

$45 for my hair and make-up later, I'm ready. The hair guy was something. Notwithstanding the fact that he gave me what can only be classified as the worst stripper bump ever, I was feeling kinda hot in my glasses and school-girl outfit (yes, the school girl outfit is back--no drama this time though).

I head out to the stage for the first time and notice there are only two girls on the DJ's list. Um, three of us? That's a whole lot of stage. The DJ asks if I like Def Leopard. Really? Was that a joke? I use my keen negotiating skills to secure Sublime, Fall Out Boy, and Nine Inch Nails. Not bad when he wanted me dancing to quite possibly the most annoying stripper song ever. Pour some sweaty stripper on me.

It's my turn. stage. ah, scary. deer in the headlights. I can't see anything as the LED's a apparantly reflecting off my glasses. Apparently it was worse for my two spectators, they we're getting the reflection of the LED lights bounced back at them. Guess I'll take off the glasses and risk falling off stage. My friend comes up to tip me and lets me know I have the same nervous habits as a stripper as I do in Mock Trial. Guess that whole picture everyone naked thing doesn't really work for annoying mannerisms afterall.

There are two other guys there. Well, I'm here to hustle, so I guess I better get to it. I start talking to a guy. Turns out he owns another strip club, topless only, pussies (puns are funny). I dance for him. He's really creepy and touchy and tries to get my number the whole time. ew. I narrowly escape his bear hands and head to stage. again. ugh. Why are there only three girls working?

As soon as the horror that is my attempt at sexy on stage is over, I go over to the only other guy in the club that I don't know or hasn't tried to lick my stuff. Creepiest guy ever, as he turns out, tells me I have the prettiest peach he's ever seen. ew. I go to dance for him, and he asks me to take my shoes off so he can wait for it, LICK MY HEELS. ew. gross. Then he asks me what he can get for $200. ew. gross. Uh, 10 dances....

I run to the back and tell my story, and one of the other now 5 strippers tells me, yeah, he's creepy, he called her 8 times that day. 8 times? Uh, how about you're creepy for giving him your number. According to her, he bought the dance from me to make her jealous. seriously.

I look up to the stage and this guy is throwing $20's at the nastiest stripper I've ever seen. Turns out she's not so much a stripper as she takes him to the back and uh, well....I don't want to think about it.

Again, I get pulled aside and told that's pretty normal here. Uh, wait, I get it, this kinda like a Europe strip club. You know, front for a straight up brothel.

It hits me, oh, no, I'm working in a brothel. In America. In my hometown. No, seriously. Well after that, I'm out. It's 10 pm, and I don't care. I'm never going back. The only dancing this 3L is doing is in the Waffle House parking lot as fast as I can get there.

So there it is, reason #3 why I'm terrible at being a stripper, no happy endings from Sienna.

I'm back

So I finally quit stripping (first it was the blogging, then it all came to a crashing halt), finals, mock trial, it all got in the way. Actually, I'll be honest, I quit because (1) I'm really bad a being a stripper and (2) I just didn't really like it all that much. So...what possessed me to try it again...

Well....it all started Saturday night. You'll all remember my friend from last year. He's still around. Anyway, we decided to check out a new strip club because one of his favorite porn stars was going to be there. Yeah, I just wrote that. It was even weirder when I said it out loud to invite other friends. So, we go to the club. It's pretty empty, but we figure it's early. The girls are really nasty, but again, we figure it's early... Well, the place doesn't fill up, the girls don't get hotter, and the porn star doesn't show, but we get drunk. And the drunker I get the more I start to realize, hey, I'm the hottest girl in the room. I could bank tonight. I talk to the DJ, then to a manager, and apparently (unlike last time), they didn't want me to start immediately.

A few days of soul searching (or masterful shaving later), I go in at 4 (ew, daytime stripper) on Tuesday. I'm a big girl, and I drive myself!

I roll in at 4, and there are about 6 guys out on the floor (sadly, you'll learn, as I did, this is the busiest the club gets all night).

I head to the back, and there are two pretty cracked out loooking chunky girls. Cracked out stripper #1 sits down next to me and asks if I have a boyfriend. Ok, maybe she's a nice cracked out chunky stipper. Ok, I'll bite..no, cracked out chunky stripper, I don't have a boyfriend. She tells me good, because everyone around there is pregnant. Huh, what? I look around...all those strippers, there's a good reason why they are chunky. Ew, that's one's a good 6 months pregnant. Then, luckily, the conversation shifts from my relationship status to what and how much the pregnant strippers can drink. phew...

So at this point all I can see is dollar signs, these girls are my competition? Who cares that I can't dance? Who cares that I'll likely deer in headlights it on stage, I'm the only one working who isn't pregnant!

It's late, and I have to be at school at 6:30 am tomorrow (I know, ick), so I guess I'll finish this later.

Procedural History

You all remember how this all started, but I couldn't remember the password or log-in.