Stripper Tips: How to Look and Feel Your Best

Looking good is often a key ingredient in feeling good as well. Confidence is key. When you look your best, it not only shows in your appearance but also in the way to walk and talk. People can feel confidence and it's intoxicating. Here are some tips and advice on how I keep myself looking and feeling my best.

Hair:

Keep your hair cut fresh and up to date. If you're doing extensions, beware of fusions. They are the most expensive kind of extension and are the most natural looking, but will kill your hair. It takes out inches of hair when they're removed. Never bleach your hair. If you want blonde, do a natural blonde. Bleach, again, will ruin your hair. I know a girl who used to have long, gorgeous hair but bleached it over and over and now her hair is fried and only a few inches long.

Nails:

Getting your nails done used to be an absurdity to me. Who wastes their money on that crap? Now I always have them done. Gel or acrylic nails look best but regular manicures are fine too. The feeling of complete put-together-ness is unreal. I feel so…frumpy, without them done now. Guys like it too. It shows that you really take care of yourself. Plus, it's always nice to take that hour and relax at the salon while getting them done.

Shaving:

As a stripper, you have to have all the hair from your neck down gone. Waxing is preferable but it sucks having to wait to let it grow so shaving is usually better than waiting. Shaving every day is hard on your skin though. You get razor burn, cuts, etc. In order to prevent this, shave with a thick conditioner instead of shaving cream. Also, I find men's razors to be better. Mach III, actually. If you do still get razor burn or bumps, use diaper rash cream (yes, for babies) on the area before bed and wash off excess cream in the morning. I use it everywhere, mostly on my thighs. I don't know why, but for some reason I tend to get razor burn there most often.

Down under, if you prefer "landing strips" or anything like that, it is acceptable at the clubs. If you're not a dancer but are considering a Brazilian wax anyway, do it. Absolutely. I used to be under the impression that it was gross, and that I'd look like a prepubescent child but I will never go back to my bushy ways. It's so clean and fresh. You don't have to worry about bathing suits or sexy underwear.

Tanning:

I know, I know. Cancer, cancer, cancer. But honestly, tanning makes me feel so much better. You look thinner when you're tanned too. Also, in the winter when you're not getting enough Vitamin D from the sun and people fall into S.A.D. (Seasonal Affective Disorder), tanning is the cure. You get your dose of sunlight and feel refreshed. Trust me. Use a tanning lotion every time you go or you're just wasting minutes, and use a lotion with bronzers in it.

Baby Wipes:

The use of toilet paper is now over, especially at work. Use baby wipes instead, preferably non-scented, hypoallergenic ones as it is a sensitive area of your body. These are much cleaner and thorough than toilet paper. On the topic of feminine care, do not use those "vaginal deodorant" spray things. I don't care who you talk to, those are not good for you. Just shower regularly and use the baby wipes. No spray. Just no.

Dry Shampoo:

My new best friend. You can get dry shampoo at any drug store for less than $10. As you should know, washing your hair every day isn't good as it takes all the oils out of your hair and causes dry hair or even split ends. Now, I have oily blonde hair that gets progressively darker and grosser the longer I don't wash it. I can't go 2 days without washing it or it looks like it's been a week for normal people. Dry shampoo is the answer. It's a spray that goes on your hair between washes and removes excess oils so it looks fresh and clean. Especially with hair extensions, you can't wash your hair more than once or twice a week as it loosens the braids, so this is a lifesaver. I use this brand:

Shoes:

New shoes are the worst to break in, but stripper shoes trump them all. The plastic digs into your toes and your foot which can often cause cuts and bleeding. In order to stretch them out without killing your feet, use a hair dryer to heat the plastic and stretch it out. Do this a few times until they are comfortable again.

Black Lights:

Keep in mind that many clubs have black lights in them so make sure to wash your clothes carefully. Also, make sure that outfits that glow under black light match colours. Often times they won't glow the same. Pinks, for example, will often glow orange in the black light. In order to make them glow pink, wash them in fabric softener a few times.

Gum and Perfume:

The last thing you want is a customer to be interested in you -- until you talk to him. Bad breath is a huge turn-off, at work or not. Carry gum or breath mints with you. Also, use perfume or body sprays, but sparingly. You don't want to choke a customer. If a customer says, "I'd love to go for a dance, but my wife will kill me if I smell like perfume, sorry," tell him it's only in your hair and it won't rub off. I've had this happen many times before. Spraying it in your hair will actually make it last longer anyway as perfume doesn't stick as well to skin or clothing as it does to hair.

Sleep:

Sleep. Sleep as long as you need. Take naps. Take more naps. Sleep some more. Okay, good. Next.

Food:

C'mon, ladies. Don't starve yourselves. Diets don't work! It's all about portion control and what you're eating. Calories don't mean shit, it's where the calories are coming from. If you're counting them, stop. Eat when you're hungry, stop when you're full. If you're like me and you eat when you're bored, replace chips with veggies and dip, or popcorn, or something you like that's moderately healthy. Everything in moderation right? Eat that pizza if you want it one night. Have a slice of that cake. Go for it. Just be mindful of moderation.

Exercise:

You don't have to be at the gym 24/7 to be in shape. In fact, I never go to the gym. I do sit-ups at home sometimes and yoga when I watch TV. I stopped taking the elevator and I walk up the stairs to my condo. If you live 20 floors up, take the elevator to the 16th floor and walk from there. Then as you get used to it, add more floors. I promise it's not that bad. I take my dogs for a walk everyday or every other day for at least 45 minutes. Be creative.

What No One Ever Tells You

            Sure, you hear that stripping is hard work mentally but you never really get it until you're part of it. Yes, you're making a lot of money but it's not "easy" money. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either arrogant or lying.

            The club takes a toll on your body, physically and mentally. The shoes hurt your feet, your back hurts, your legs hurt and you're exhausted by the end of the night. You've dealt with grimy, horny, smelly, asshole men all night who grovel over you for your looks.

            It really makes you question your worth as a person. Being able to make a living on your looks is fantastic for self confidence, for sure, but to a point. It blurs the line between love and lust and makes you wonder. If I didn't have someone to come home to who loves me for who I am, inside and out, no matter what, I don't think I could do this job. He really keeps me sane and happy. I've got a keeper here for sure.

            Personally, I go through periods of wanting to work all the time, and dreading work like it's the plague. There will be a 2 week period where all I want to do it work, make money and repeat. Then I'll fall into a funk, so to speak. I will sleep late, put off getting ready for work and rationalize to myself why I don't have to go in that day. All while being in a shitty mood.

            So, a word of caution to those of you thinking of starting in this industry. It captures you. The money keeps you in because you get used to it. No other job with no trained skills will give you money like this. That's why women are still working with kids, in their 30's, with no end in sight. So if you want to start, make sure you're in school or saving to go back. You don't want to do this forever.

            In the end, I think it's really important to take days off when you need them, pamper yourself with nice things like shoes and massages, and enjoy life outside of work. Of course, I haven't done any of those things in quite a while, except take days off. *sigh* Practice what you preach, right? I'll work on that.

Fact vs. Fiction: The Big, Bad Dancers Are Out to Get You

            I've been at my club for less than a year but if I'm in trouble with a customer or another girl is picking a fight with me, the girls I've gotten to know step in for me. Same goes for them. We are all competition, but we do look out for our group.

            It's strange because when I first started dancing, I was warned not to talk to anyone. I was told that the other girls are vicious and will do whatever they can to take you down. This terrified me. It's true to a point, and you shouldn't talk to anyone when you first start working (see Tip #9 above), but it's not universal. After a while, I hadn't seen too much of that. There was some shit talking but nothing serious. Sometimes a perfume got stolen but that's about it.

            Now, I don't get out much. I moved to this city without knowing more than 3 people. To be frank about it, I don't have many friends down here. The closest people to me are Boyfriend and the girls I work with. But when I say we're close, I really mean that we care about each other. Many of the girls know each other outside of the club and hang out. Some even go on vacations together. I'm not there yet, I haven't been here that long, but I can see where it came from.

            For example, if my makeup isn't even or a tag is sticking out of my outfit, someone will tell me. If someone's hair isn't curled in the back because they can't reach it, another girl will do her hair for her. One time, I wore a wig to work but I hadn't put it on properly. My real hair underneath was making a bump. One of the girls took it off and showed me how to do it properly so it looked natural. I was told that these girls would do whatever they could to make it so I couldn't make money, and yet now these same girls are helping me look better. When a girl is feeling sick, other girls will help her out, find her Tylenol or something, call her a cab, or just sit with her until she's better.

            We share hair straighteners, makeup brushes and perfume. We have a designated locker in the changeroom that we all contribute things to for the group. There's body spray, nail polish, baby wipes, hand sanitizer, deodorant and even food. If there's a makeup sale at Rexal or Shoppers Drug Mart, someone will let everyone else know. Or maybe they found an awesome new nail salon or tanning salon in the area.

            One thing that really surprised me is the amount of trust between the girls at my club. Everyone has a locker at work to put all their stuff in, however hardly anyone ever locks them. I know I never lock mine. The only time I do is if I get a gift from a customer or I have something valuable I forgot to leave in the car.

            What really surprised me though was what girls do with their money. If someone is getting ready and they have to go to the washroom, she'll usually just ask someone else in the changeroom to watch her stuff while she's gone. This could be her makeup bag, her clothes, her shoes, and even her purse. This happens throughout the night too, when girls have hundreds of dollars in their purses. Now, if these girls are the supposedly vicious, out-to-get-you girls I was told they were, why on earth would you trust your money with them? Simply put, they're not all as bad as it seems. Perhaps I have encountered an anomaly in the stripper world, but it seems improbable. Could the one club I've actually spent a significant amount of time be the one-in-a-million? I'm wondering if this image of monstrous girls comes from the mass amounts of media on the USA stripper scene, as there isn't much literature on Canadian dancers.

            The moral of this story is not to believe everything you hear, especially from someone who hasn't been in that position personally. 

Top 12 Tips for New Dancers

 Here is my compiled list of tips for new dancers.

1.      Walk slowly through the club, looking at each potential customer. If someone looks at you longer than normal, smiles and/or you just get the vibe they are into you, go talk to them. If you don't look, you won't see. If you walk too fast, the guys won't get to look at you either.

2.      As with many things in life, confidence is key. If you walk around with your head down, unsure of yourself, you won't make a dollar. Walk with confidence. You are the shit. The men are there because they want to be turned on. They will look at you and see what they like. If you are insecure about something, which everyone undoubtedly is, ignore it while at work. Embrace what you love about yourself. Whether it be your curves, or your legs, or your boobs, or your eyes, embrace it. Love it. It will show.

3.      Never ever let the first thing you say to a customer be, "Would you like to go for a dance?". Countless times, I have seen girls walk up to men, quickly blurt out their question and have to walk away. Yes, you are there to work. But the men aren't there to spend money on the first girl who talks to them. They are there to find a girl that fits their fantasy "type" and be seduced by her. Talk to your target, get to know him.

4.      When talking to your customer, be flirty. You want him to believe that you're into him. Make it about him. Put your hands on his shoulders, play with the buttons on his shirt, whisper in his ear. He could be an 80 year old, foul smelling, creepy man, but you need to focus on something, anything, about this guy that you find attractive. Maybe he's wearing nice glasses, or smells good, or has nicely coloured eyes. If there is absolutely nothing, think about the money in his pocket ;)

5.      If it's a slow night, or you're tired, or you simply aren't getting any dances, do not sit or stand on the floor for too long. Actually, never sit. Standing on the floor for a few minutes can be a good thing, because if you missed someone or someone you already talked to changed their mind, they can come up to you. However, don't stay long. Go sit in the changeroom instead. If a guy sees you standing around, not busy, he won't want you. Men want what they can't have. They want what everyone else wants. If you only make sparse appearances and maximize the time you're on the floor, you'll be busier.

6.      Whatever you do, do not get drunk at work. Sure, have a drink or two throughout the night if you want. Some girls need to have a drink before they can go on stage. But absolutely do not get drunk. If you were working at a retail store, or in an office, or anywhere else, you wouldn’t drink on the job, right? Same rule applies, for several reasons. If you get drunk, you won't make any money. You won't be able to focus and you're just wasting your time. Frankly, you look like an idiot. If you want to go out and drink, go to a bar or a club. Not work. Also, you become vulnerable when you've been drinking. Your guard isn't up as much and guys can take advantage of that, as with any situation where you've drank too much. When a guy does something in the back that you don't want him to, you need to be alert in order to control the situation. It's a safety issue for you. So, either know your limit and stay well below it, or just don't drink. Personally, I don't drink while I'm working at all. I have water and energy drinks, and that's it.

7.      When walking through the club, run your hand along a guy's shoulders as you walk by. But don't go talk to him right away. Look back as you're walking away and smile or wink. This way, he will remember you. He'll be intrigued. He'll want to talk to you. Come back to him within 10-15 minutes.

8.      Alright so here's a touchy one. I don't know if this applies to all clubs, but at the one's I've worked at the general rule is that you don't talk to young black guys. I'm sorry to all the stand-up black guys out there who are being ignored for this, but this is a case where the few involved have ruined it for the rest. Generally, the mid-twenties black men who come in are pimps. They usually come in pairs or 3 of them. They will call you over, never go for a dance with you and waste your time. They'll be suave and charming and flirty. They'll ask for your number and if they can take you out sometime. If you get caught up talking to someone who sounds like that, just walk away. You don't have to be rude about it, but leave. They're wasting your time and contributing to an epidemic of human trafficking that is unnecessary and cruel. Don't feel bad, these are not good people.

9.      When you start at a new club, don't talk to any of the other dancers unless they talk to you. Don't even look at them. Get dressed and go on the floor. Girls who have established themselves at a particular club don't like when new girls come in. It's competition, plain and simple. Some girls will even get nasty with new girls. I, myself, don't like when new girls come in either. I try not to be mean, but I'm certainly not nice. No benefit for me, sorry ladies. In time, you'll get to know girls and things'll be fine.

10.  Don't count your money while at work. It's not…classy. Don't show off, it's going to bite you in the ass. Wait until you get home, it will still be there. If you really need to count it, make sure you're alone, or in the bathroom or something.

11.  If you're freelancing for the first time, or you're still new, at a club then you'll be okay, but if you're sticking around make sure to pick your stage songs carefully. If you're new, its ok because everyone knows that you don't know what songs play normally. But pay attention to the songs other girls dance to. If someone is dancing to a song you want to dance to, too bad. Pick another one. Reason one: no one wants to hear the same song a million times in one night. Reason two: the girl whose song that is will probably not be too happy that you've taken her song. If you want to use it, you'd better ask her. (Unless of course you don't know her. Then just pick a new one).

12.  Last, but not least: have a goal. When you get to work, set yourself a goal for the end of the night. Make sure it's realistic though. I like to go in with a few different goals. First, I start with a nightly goal: what I plan to go home with. Then, I figure out what I need hourly to make that happen (usually though, you make a ton one hour and then nothing the next so it's hard to judge by hour). Next, I set a goal I need to get to before I can have dinner. Usually, I set it at $200-$300 before I can eat, except lately I've been leaving this rule out because it's been so slow. Throughout the night, I'll say "okay, I'm going to talk to x-amount of guys before I can take a quick break," or "$x more before I can take a break", again keeping it realistic. This helps keep you motivated throughout the night, and completing smaller goals feels like you're accomplishing more. Compete with yourself. Try to beat what you made the night before.

May - Back to Work

            So, I'm back to work as of the start of May. I had taken a couple months off, and I'll explain why later. Boyfriend has since lost his job (idiotic reason, I don't want to get into it) so I have to support us both, for the most part.

            The weather has been awful all month which makes the club empty. It's been on and off for me since I got back to work, earning much less than I was before. Not nearly what I was making in September. Apparently though, according to girls who have been doing this for years, once the weather gets consistently good and girls are wearing skirts and tank tops, the guys get horny and go into the clubs. At that point, it gets good everywhere.

            I'm counting on it. For the last couple weeks, I've made about $1200 each week working 4-5 nights. Not nearly enough. I should be making that in a really good night, maybe two decent ones.

            Because I can't afford to not make money right now, I've been doing what I can to step up my game. I've been watching other girls who I know make money. One thing I've been told several times is that I'm too "nice". I have a cute, girl next door, innocent look. I've been told that I am elegant and graceful. Usually, these would be great things to hear. In my case, it's not. I need to be more slutty, more flirty and most of all act as if I'm willing to do extras.

Regulars

            After a few weeks of working four nights a week, I had begun to see familiar faces in the crowd. Men were coming back to see me. This not only shocked me, but thrilled me. Less work for me. A quick, "Hey babe, how've you been?" and I'm in the VIP making moula.

           

            The funny thing is, these guys think that because I've seen them before that they are somehow special. That I owe them privileges I don't give to anyone else, such as my phone number for example. No problem, I do what I can to keep them thinking they are different than all the other guys.

            I have this one regular who comes in randomly every so often, to this day, and takes me for one song only. All he wants to do is watch me shake my ass for 4 minutes and is on his way again. Whatever, $20 is better than zero. I usually go see him when it's not too busy so I'm not missing out on higher paying customers.

            Now, the downfall of regulars:

            I had this one guy, let's call him Beamer (he had a BMW) who was a good paying customer. He would come in every Sunday at 5pm and take me for at least 5 songs. This was awesome not only because it was guaranteed $100, but Sundays are hit and miss so it meant I always made something. That $100 a week was my rent minus utilities, guaranteed. But then he started to get really comfortable with me and tried pushing the limits.

            He was a big guy, and slightly intimidating at times. He started getting forceful with me in the VIP. As I was dancing for him, he'd grab my arms and hold me down against him so I couldn't move. In all honesty, it made me very uncomfortable and scared me a little. He would tell me every time that I belonged to him, to which I said I did not. Whenever he tried to hold me down, I'd try to stop him or say he was hurting me. One time, he pulled my hair back so hard it cracked my neck. I made it very clear he hurt me and he apologized. The problem was, he was a good regular customer of mine and I didn't want to ruin it by telling the bouncers he was being too rough and not listening.

            He would bring me very expensive boxes of chocolates but kept getting continually rougher with me. One night, we were in the VIP and he was being far too rough and I was getting quite frightened. I told him very forcefully that he had to stop or I would leave.

            He slapped me.

            He growled, "You are mine!" and tried to grab my wrist. I slapped him back, grabbed my stuff and ran to the bouncers. Enough was enough. I should have gone to them weeks ago. I told them he owed me $100, which he did, and they roughed him up on the way out after I got my money.

            From that moment onward, I didn't tolerate any kind of violence while working. You wouldn't in any other kind of job, so not here either.

Extras

            Alright, in case you don't know what "extras" are, they are anything performed in the club that is not a lap dance, and is not sanctioned by the club or the law. It can be anything from a hand job to sex to weird fetish stuff. In short, anything a guy pays extra for.

            Now, the club I'm at is not the cleanest. In fact, it's pretty much a dumpster. More like a brothel than anything else. Within the week or so that I had worked there, I had seen girls giving guys blow jobs, I had seen girls having sex with customers and had customers of my own proposition me for extras. It was gross. I had heard the phrases, "what else do you do?" and "how much for a blowjob?" far too many times. It was becoming frustrating. It seemed to me like I was the only girl there who didn't do any of that.

            I decided to try another club. I searched for a list of strip clubs in my area and read reviews. Looks like extras go on in all the clubs, to some degree at least. I find one that's still close to home and head there.

            I pull up, in my rusty old Civic and see the neon "Girls, Girls, Girls" sign out front. This must be it. I get that nauseas feeling you get when you're nervous. This club looks much different inside. Still dirty, yes. Still has gum on the walls, yes. There are flashing lights everywhere though and the girls, from what I can tell so far, are much more attractive. I register and receive a tour. This one has three changerooms, and the washroom is separate. Bonus.

            I pick a changeroom and quickly get dressed. The other girls stare and give me not-so-friendly looks. I try to ignore them and am on my way. I am still asked about extras by many but I deal with it. Again, I walk away satisfied with a wad of cash in my pocket at the end of the night.

Learning - Four Lessons Every Beginner Should Know

            I slept in late the next day, relaxed all day and then went to my new job around 7pm. I arrived, excited and nervous. The night before, I had no idea what was going to happen. Now I felt I had to make the same amount, or more. After all, I now knew what I was in for, more or less. But getting from $0 to $600 still felt impossible. I was nervous, and knew I had a lot to learn still.

            Pimps

            The night goes about the same. I talk to everyone. Standing by the bar are a few young men. I go talk to one of them, see if he wants a dance. He's very flirty, and complements me on everything and anything. Asks me if he could get my number, we could go out for coffee sometime. I politely decline and walk away once I know it's not going anywhere. The manager comes up to me not long after and says, as politely as he can, that I should avoid "black men", especially young ones. I thank him, not knowing why. Later I learn that it is because they are most likely pimps. Thinking back, I realise now that's exactly who they were.

            Towels

            At another table two middle aged men are sitting and watching the show. I go over to them and they ask me to sit down with them. I oblige. As I'm sitting down, one of the men gestures at the chair and asks if I have a towel to sit on. I say, slightly confused, that I do not. Again, the manager later tells me that I should bring a towel with me so that I can sit on it at the tables. That way I don't get anything from the chairs on me, seeing as I am wearing a thong. Makes sense. I went and bought a purple bandana from the dollar store the next day.

            Schedule vs. Freelance

            As mentioned earlier, I had been asked when I first registered if I was on schedule or freelance. At the time, I had no idea what this meant. When a girl is "on schedule" it means she needs to be at the club for a certain time and cannot leave before a certain time. So, basically like being on shift at any other job. Generally, the night shifts are 6pm-1am or 7pm-2am. You are also required to do at least 3 stage shows throughout the night. At the end of your shift, you are paid by the club (the amount depends on the club), and your floor fee is covered. Freelance means you can come and go whenever you want. You are only required to do 1 stage show, however you are not paid by the club and you owe the club money at the end of the night. The amount depends again. I've seen it be anywhere from $30 to $90. Of course, these fees differ between clubs.

            Licenses

            Before starting at any club, you should find out what the laws are in that area. I know that the rules in Canada and the US are very different. For example, in many areas of the states, women are not allowed to get naked, only topless. Also, there are regulations on the outfits they can wear. When I was starting dancing in August, I was trying to research any of these rules in Ontario, but everything I found was for the States. Not useful. In Canada, or at least in Ontario, there are no limits to what you can wear in the strip clubs. You could walk around naked if you want to (but it's not recommended…). Anyway, the only main thing to look out for are licenses. Some regions you can work, you need a license. In downtown Toronto and some of the GTA region, you need to be licensed. This can be done by going to the police station, with government issued ID (I believe it's two pieces, with photos). The fee in Toronto is around $350 for the year, but it changes regularly. In Niagara Falls, the fee is $120.           

            By the end of my first night, I had earned almost $700. I bought a $500 Honda Civic, that was as old as I was, the next day. Certainly not glamorous but it had 4 wheels and got me from point A to point B. My first car. I was thrilled.

The First Night

            I walk into the club. It's midweek. There is a large man sitting on a bar stool by the front door. He looks me up and down with a stern look on his face as I ask where I can find the manager. I'm wearing Lulu Lemon pants and an American Apparel sweater. Not exactly sexy. More like work-out clothes. He walks me over to a door nearby.

           

            From here, I can see most of the club. It's not what I was expecting. My only visions of strip clubs came from movies, and this wasn't even close. It was very dark, and much smaller than I was thinking. There was gum on the walls and all the chairs and tables were very old. I could see a few of the girls, too. They were all wearing similar outfits to what I had, and were very tall. Some were beautiful, and others were…not so much.

            The manager is a small Asian man, with a huge smile. He gives me a form to fill out, photocopies my IDs and then takes my picture for the file. I'm under 19 so I can't drink, but at this point I really felt like I could use one.

            He asks if I am freelance or schedule. I have no idea what this means. I babble something incoherent and he nods. I guess I'm not the first to be so lost. He gives me a quick tour of the club which ends with the changeroom.

            I walk into the changeroom and the manager follows, to show me how to use the lockers. The girls in there don't even flinch at the man entering. This shocks me, although I know it shouldn’t. He leaves and I pull my shoes and outfit out of my purse. I shyly get dressed and lock my bag in a locker. I have a small clutch in hand which has my phone, some cash and lip gloss. I check my hair, fix up my makeup, take a deep breath and walk out onto the floor.

            "Ohhhh what a beautiful girl! Look at you! What brings a sweet girl like you to a place like this??" The manager coos at me in his slight Chinese accent. He's sweet, I think, trying to make me more comfortable, "Wouldn't we all like to see you up there, eh?" He gestures at the stage, where a tall brunette with fake boobs is topless on stage. I laugh it off and say something like "Oh, I don't know about that."

            I go grab a glass of water from the bar and quickly scan the club. It's pretty busy, I guess. Not many girls, but a decent amount of guys. Then again, I don't have anything to reference against. My clutch feels light, knowing I need to fill it with $600 between tonight and tomorrow night for rent. An impossible task, I feel.

            Deep breath. I go talk to a man sitting by himself. I introduce myself as Nikki, which feels odd to say. We chat for a bit and I ask if he'd like a dance. He agrees, to my surprise, and the butterflies start fighting again.

            The rest of the night is a blur. I ask as many people as I can if they'd like dances. I forget to keep track of the money I'm earning. I'm afraid it won't be enough. Occasionally, I go back to the changeroom (which is really just a dirty washroom with lockers in it) and text Boyfriend, letting him know I'm okay. There are girls rolling joints and talking on the phone. No one talks to me, which is fine by me.

            2am comes around soon enough and I'm relieved to be able to go home. I'm tired and my feet hurt. I give the DJ my floor fee and get dressed. My ride is waiting outside, and we go home.

            Boyfriend is anxiously waiting. We go into the kitchen and he makes some food as I count my earnings for my first night.

            $620. I can't keep in my smile. That's my whole month's rent in one night. I go to bed relieved -- and excited.

Preparations

            After talking about what this would mean, how it could effect our relationship, and setting any and all boundaries, Boyfriend and I get in the car and head to the "dancer" store to get an outfit and some shoes.

            The rules were that there would be absolutely no "extras", I wouldn't talk about the details of my nights until Boyfriend was ready to listen, and that if for any reason, at any time, Boyfriend asked me to quit dancing, I would.

            Pretty damn fair if you ask me. If it were the other way around, I'd hunt down every woman who even looked at my man. Don't deny it ladies, you would do the same.

            Blue bikini top and thong in hand and taller shoes than I'd ever seen in my purse, I nervously head home. Boyfriend paces across our room silently as I do my hair and makeup. He's starting to not like this more and more as it becomes real. Butterflies are holding a Fight Club in my stomach as I try not to think about being naked in front of strangers. I'd never been to a strip club before, even as a customer. I was 18 after all, I wasn't even allowed in as a patron yet.

            I call the club closest to my house.

            "Hello?"

            "Uh, yeah, hi. Is the manager in?"

            "Yup."

            "Okay.. Great. Thanks. I'll be in for work soon. Thanks."

            Yeah. Probably the worst phone call in the history of the world. Especially for someone who is supposed to charm men with her words and stun with her grace. Plus I was supposed to ask if they were hiring. Good start.

            The vision of being surrounded by drug-addicted, pimped out yet gorgeous women scared the crap out of me. I thought I was about to be in the presence of girls like that, and I am just an innocent looking 18 year old. Blonde hair, blue eyes and dimples. Yeah, frightening. I was going to make no money, and embarrass myself.

            Gulp.

            All ready to go, Boyfriend bails at the last minute. He doesn't want to see the club. He can't drive me there, it's too much for him. I understand though so his friend offers to take me, and pick me up at the end of the night.

            I climb into the car counting to 10 over and over trying to calm my nerves. On the way over, he gives me a "pep talk" and although I never said it, it really helped. He said words to me that I still think of to this day, to keep myself motivated.

            He told me not to be nervous. If I didn't make money, it was because the men were cheap. He said that I was a pretty girl and if he didn't think I could do this, he wouldn't have gotten involved. He would have told Boyfriend it was a bad idea and I was going to get hurt. He told me the rules of the clubs: what's allowed and what's not, and when to tell a pushy customer that enough is enough. He said very sternly that I am not to talk to any of the girls either, unless they talk to me first. Be polite, but don't get involved. He told me that I am not there as a service to the men, I am there to use them. They are nothing but money to me. That I am the shit. These men are there, paying perfectly good money, just to look at me. They are my customers, not the other way around. I call the shots. Then he told me to relax and have fun. It is a club after all.

            How he knew all this, I didn't ask. I still pump myself up with those words and loud music when I'm on the way to work.

            We pull up to the front door. It's around 8 o'clock. He gives a few more words of encouragement and then good luck.

            Now, I'm alone.

How I Started Dancing

            Here I was, practically hyperventilating, sitting on the front porch frantically trying to think of a way to fix my financial meltdown. Boyfriend comes out to sit with me and calm me down. Being the rational one in the relationship, he suggested we just think about realistic ideas of what we could do.

            Backing up a little: I had just moved hundreds of kilometres away from my home with a fairly new boyfriend and a few of his friends. I was starting university in the fall and I had moved away with nothing but optimism, naivety and a couple hundred dollars. Before I knew it, it was the end of August and I still had no job (well, I was in training for a waitressing job but wouldn't see a paycheque for 3 weeks). I also only had 83 cents left in my account. Boyfriend was also very tight for money, having just payed his portion of first/last month's rent, payed for the moving truck, gas and new furniture.

Running through my head were numbers. Just numbers.

            If I am to work 20 hours a week (as I'm in school and can't / shouldn't / don't want to put in more than that), and any job I could get would be minimum wage ($10.25), I would be making $820 per month. Possibly with a waitressing job, I could make the servers wage ($8.90) plus tips (which I've heard works out to being max $15/hour, then I would make $1200 per month -- absolute maximum.

            Rent: $600

            Food: $300

            Bus Pass: $100

            Misc (shampoo, etc): $40

            Okay so for the mere basics of living, I would need $1040 ish. And that's with no luxuries, no allowance of going off budget, no nothing.

            To sum up: Fucked.

            I didn't have 3 weeks to wait for my pay to come in. I had 3 days.

            I look up at Boyfriend and jokingly say, "Looks like I'm gonna need to start stripping in order to afford rent."

            We both half-heartedly laughed it off. But wait… Maybe I could…

            Putting aside years of traumatic self-image problems, and barely being able to be naked in my own home, I contemplate the idea of maybe, possibly….dare I say it?...stripping.

            With the idea now on the table, it's looking like my only option. At least until I can start working at the restaurant.

            Alright. Here we go...