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Does
Jenn Get a Lap Dance?
I have a "sort of"
friend that strips for a living. She will not let me call her
an "exotic dancer." She is a stripper. Period. I met
her at a party, and interviewed her a few months ago for a Sex
Crap column. If you have not read it, please do before
continuing! (it's at the bottom of this page)
While we got along well when we met, we have
barely kept in touch since the e-mail interview. We have
shared a few e-mails, but mostly forwarding jokes, and things
of that nature. Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I
got her e-mail inviting me to watch her "perform" a
week ago. The idea of watching her both turned me on, and made
me very uncomfortable. Since she mentioned getting turned on
by women watching her dance, I couldn’t help but wonder if
she had any other thoughts. Or was it I that was having the
thoughts?
As confused as I was, I was equally
intrigued and e-mailed her back, telling her I would be there,
but that I would probably bring a male friend or two. I was
uncomfortable going to a strip club alone, and did not want to
make a spectacle by bringing female friends. Male friends
would work just fine. She seemed psyched, and said she would
not disappoint. Hmmmmmm.
My first order of business was to round up a
companion, and I knew just the guy. Actually, you might know
him too, because he is a clone for the character Steve Buscemi
played in the terrific movie Ghost World. If you have
not seen this movie, rent it tonight! Thora Birch is awesome,
and Buscemi’s character named Seymour is indeed my friend.
And sorry, you’ll have to see the film to get a full idea of
my evening. There is even a scene in the movie where Enid (Thora
Birch) forces Seymour to accompany her into an adult video and
accessories store. Kind of exactly as I was doing to my
friend, who would much rather go to an opera than a nudie bar!
Actually, he was somewhat spared, since the club she was now
dancing at was not nude, not even topless! What is the world
coming to, strippers that remain clothed! Of course, my friend
tried to refuse, but what man could resist my pouting?
I always knew strip clubs were popular, but
before going, I did a little Internet research. While some of
the polls were inconclusive about how many men actually visit
them on a regular basis, I was blown away by the information
that Americans spend more on strip clubs than they spend on
theater, opera, ballet, jazz and classical-music
concerts—combined (Martin Amis, "Sex in America,"
Talk magazine, February 2001).
I was told her dancing would start at 8PM,
so I made sure we were there later than that. We arrived
around 8:20, and there was no sign of her. We ordered two
draft beers (whatever light beer they were selling) and
waited. It was an interesting mix of only men, although the
two bartenders were women. They were attractive, but not
stripper quality. I tried to get my friend to loosen up, as he
was making me uncomfortable. I swear, there were only a dozen
or so guys there (this was a weeknight, by the way), but I
think they were more uncomfortable by his nervousness than me
being there! Finally, at about 8:40, my friend walked in
through the front door. She had a duffle bag, her hair was
tied back, and she gave me a big hug and kiss. She shook my
friend’s hand when I introduced him. She said four girls
would be working that night (two were already performing), and
she would be on within twenty minutes. I said we could not
stay very late, and she said she would probably dance for
about thirty minutes, then join us for a drink if that
wasn’t too late. We nodded in agreement.
At about 9:15, she finally came out. Her
hair was poofed a bit, and she added make-up. She came out
with short white shorts, and a halter top. She was tan, and
had a very nice body. She was the last of the night’s four
to appear, which might have made her the main attraction. She
was also the only dancer that did not have any visible
tattoos. By now, the crowd had swelled to about twenty men;
myself, the bartenders, and the dancers being the only women.
For the first fifteen or twenty minutes of her set, she seemed
intent on totally ignoring us. She did not even come close,
nor did she make any eye contact. There was only one lone
gentleman sitting near us, and she came over to him and
accepted a tip.
By the time her first thirty minutes were
almost up, about half the crowd had left. And I was finally
going to get some attention. With my friend still doing his
best to avoid eye contact with any of the dancers (hence, not
having to tip them), my friend approached me. She had stripped
down to a black thong, and very small bikini top. She began
dancing right in front of me, moving her hands up and down her
legs, and looking right into my eyes. I kept looking away, and
the more I did, the closer she got. Finally, she leaned over
and made contact with me. She put her hands on my shoulders
and encouraged me to move a little with her. The guys in
attendance seemed to like it, from the scattering of catcalls
going around. As I moved a little, she slipped her hands off
my shoulders and lowered her bikini top without unfastening.
She kept dancing like this for a few minutes, with her breasts
visible to me but not the rest of the patrons. When the song
was ending, she slipped her bikini top back and gave me a
little kiss on the cheek.
When she finally came out to join us for a
drink, she was almost totally covered up. Her hair was tied
back again, and she was wearing satin pants and a long blouse.
She immediately apologized for the personal dance she gave me,
and said she merely wanted to show me how she works the crowd.
She kind of winked as she said this, and I assured her that it
was fine. I didn’t want to tell her then that it was better
than fine, which it was. Or that the moment had me quite
turned on as well. Or that when I got home, I had some serious
business to attend to. I would tell her all that later, via
e-mail, or in this column. But I remain a devout heterosexual,
with nothing more than sexual FANTASIES about being with
another woman. I’m sure we will talk again, and as for my
Seymour, he seems to have not suffered any emotional damage! J
And you single guys, you have my full permission to attend as
many strip clubs as you would like! If you are spoken for, get
their permission, or don’t get caught. What would someone
rather experience… what I experienced, or a ballet or
basketball game?
Interview
with a Stripper
Exactly one week
after my "sort of" date with a "sort of"
celebrity, I found myself at a party, courtesy of my on
again/off again male friend. I actually went as his date, and
the party was at a four floor townhouse owned by one of his
business acquaintances. Complete with a boat (and boat slip)
on the river, in clear view from the tall glass windows, I
heard through gossip on the "floor" that the owner
was either a drug dealer, adult video distributor, day trader,
or sleaze lawyer. When I asked my friend, it was kind of a
combination of all four. Which made me better understand the
guests I saw musing about.
The best
conversation I had that night was a ten minute debate over a
song that was playing on the stereo. It seemed to be a
compilation type CD of dance/rave tunes, and I knew I had
heard the song before in a different form. I was not alone.
Another gal about my age heard me talking about it to my
friend and joined my query. Well after the song was over, we
continued to try and figure out who it was. I'm not sure if it
was the alcohol, or the surreal feeling of the party, but when
I started talking to this gal, we must have used the
"f" word to describe everything from the weather, to
the carpeting. And I am not one to use the "f" word
freely, outside of occasional road rages. After we broke up,
we ended up talking again about an hour later. She was getting
ready to leave, and I asked why she was leaving so early. She
had mentioned she was a dancer earlier (or was that an
"f-ing dancer" earlier), so when I asked, she seemed
surprised. She said she told me earlier that she was a dancer,
and she had to work that night. As stupid as I felt, I was
also intrigued. I had never met an exotic dancer before, and I
had a million questions. But she was leaving. On the way out,
I told her that I write a Sex column on the Internet for the
"49th most popular entertainment e-zine" (according
to Google), and wondered if she might consider an e-mail
interview about her line of work. She asked how many people
would read it, and I said thousands (or more). She hesitated,
but said since I was a friend of (the owner's), that she might
answer a few questions if it was totally anonymous. She
scribbled her name, number, and e-mail address, and
kissed/hugged me goodbye.
The next morning,
I could not wait to correspond with her, and went about coming
up with a few choice questions to ask. Once I compiled them, I
went ahead and sent them to her via e-mail. It seemed easier
than over the phone. To my surprise, I had my answers back
less than four hours later. Over the hours which followed, we
corresponded further. I needed some clarifications, and she
was nervous that people might be able to figure out what club
she worked at. I assured her that readers do not even know my
location, and they would never find out hers. She also said
she would be willing to do some follow-ups. She said we needed
to go out dancing one of these weekends. And I might just take
her up on it.
Without further
ado, here's what I came up with. We mutually agreed to call
her Abby, a stage name she has used before, but not at her
current stint.
Jenn:
"Abby, how did you get into exotic dancing?"
Abby: u mean
stripping? lol. well, i got pregnent when i was a senior in
high school, and had my daughter the fall after graduating. i
had no support from the dad, and was working in a mall while
my mom watched her. there just wasnt enough money. i saw an ad
for dancers, saying u can earn a lot of money and the rest is
history.
Jenn: "How
much money can one make doing this?"
Abby: shit, ive
heard some girls making thousands of dollars a night. i have
upgraded clubs over the past four years since i started. the
club i work at now, i work like four hour shifts and i dont
work totally nude though i have before. here it is a thong and
bikini top but nicer grade clientelle. i basically work for
tips, but i usually bring home several hundred dollars a
night.
Jenn: "Do
you ever date customers?"
Abby: shit no.
never. well i mean i shouldnt say never but this is work to
me, period. i do it for the money and i have no interest in
the guys that frequent the club. i aim to please and i go
after the best tippers. i get asked out every night and i get
propasitioned every night. i have never dated a customer.
Jenn: "Is
it common for an exotic dancer to ever make extra money on the
side?"
Abby: where i am
now, id say no. its a classier place. my club has no room for
lapdances, so whatever happens happens right there. if a guy
waves a twenty at me i will dance for him, and i will open my
bikini top to give him a little peak. if hes intersted and
whips out more cash i might do a little more although the club
owners are mostly against it. but shit, sorry if a guy has the
cash for a look and a slight feel i do it.
at the other clubs
there were more of those side things. i knew a girl who was
making an extra fifty giving hand jobs in the back and some of
the gals gave blowjobs. i dont know how much they made doing
that but i never would. this was a place that did not have
lapdances either.
Jenn:
"Does dancing ever turn you on?"
Abby: i never get
turned on by the men watching me, but i do sometimes get
turned on when i watch a woman watching me. im have only been
with one or two women but i do get turned on when i see them
watch me dance.
Jenn:
"Anything you'd like to say to the E-Crap readers?"
Abby: lol. no i
think ive said enough!
To make the
interview flow, I had to repeat and rephrase a few of the
answers (and questions). I also showed her the final copy
before this went live, and she was fine with it. Of course,
there is nothing earth shattering here, but she did tell me
some things that I felt it was best not to publish, especially
more detailed information about money changing hands, and how
they are sometimes paid. Also, some of the other dealings that
she has witnessed. She did not want to talk a lot about her
family's reaction to her dancing, and she did not want to talk
about her daughter. She also shied away from more personal
questioning. I did not push for any of those, and I was
grateful she took the time to answer this much. I'm sure every
dancer has her own reason for getting into the business, and
I'm sure if I interviewed a hundred different dancers, I'd
receive a hundred different responses.
© Jenn
at e-crap.com |
JennEven
is a SexyAds member who writes about sex and sexual
topics. We're happy to have her part of the SexyAds/ SAGazette
team.
