So how did I get the idea to be a stripper? Well, funny story… I was a ‘normal’ person, working a ‘normal’ job in customer service. Normally, I would blame the idiot customers for stressing me out. However, in this case the customers were supposed to be idiots because they were senile… The stress came from fixing problems and even more so not being able to fix the problems other employees created.
Funny thing about stress, sometimes you don’t even realize how stressed you are until you come to a breaking point. Then when you realize how stressed you’ve become, if you do not know how to deal with it, you are f*!?#&. I let stress for several months build up and since at the time I did not understand what to do with it, I wound up at the ER with severe chest pain and an order not to return to work until they could figure out what was wrong with me. Feeling better the next day, I figured no one could stop me from returning to work… Ha!!! I was sent home immediately and told not to come back without a medical release.
Let’s review, shall we? My doctor refused to release me back to work and since my husband was a loser and I had an infant who needed food regardless of my employment status, I had to review all my options. But what were my options?
First, I tried arguing with the doctor…I distinctly remember thinking “no income is going to be healthy?” when my doctor refused to let me go back to work and expressed his concerns about stress contributing to a possibly heart attack. Did he think I wouldn’t stress if I couldn’t pay my bills? Or maybe he thought he could write a doctor’s note for my bills. Needless to say, arguing with the doctor did not work..
OK… so I couldn’t return to the job I was currently employed at without a release…
Option two: I will just find a new job. Now I do not know if you are aware of how things work when a doctor will not release you back work, but apparently when a doctor does not want you to work, it is worse than if the mafia puts a hit out on you… no one will even consider talking to you… and nothing spreads faster than the notification you are blacklisted! It’s like a universal tattoo on your forehead that reads “do not hire if you know what is good for you, we know where your family is.” I actually considered changing my identity, but didn’t think it would do any good unless I went into witness protection. Even then, I think somehow employers would know the doctor hadn’t released me back to work. FAIL!
Option three: Leach off my family. With help from my Mom I made it a months with no work. How long could I expect my mom to pay the bills for me? Next…
Last option (kinda): Then it occurred to me one day while at a friend’s; I could strip! OK so maybe at first I hadn’t named it stripping… in fact I hadn’t really named it at all.
As I said, I was at my friend’s house (we will call him ‘Bob’). Bob is an independent contractor for media events (he does the audio/video ‘stuff’ for events like sports etc.). Bob always babbles about his job and uses all this technical jargon while I sit there showing utter and obvious disinterest and boredom, except this time Bob said something that caught my attention. He was explaining that he did not have to worry about child support withholdings (yep real winner, however in Bob’s defense he was avoiding child support because the kids were grown and not raised by the mom, who was trying to collect the support. At least this is Bob’s claim and does not necessarily reflect my views on the subject.) because he was an independent contractor, his own boss.
I realized if I were an independent contractor there would be no liability to the ‘employer’ so the chances of a background check would decreased and I could possibly avoid the red flag. And really, what it boiled down to was employers didn’t want to be responsible should something happen to me while on company time…
So now, I just had to figure out what I could do as an independent contractor. Bob (so helpful as he is) suggested he take me out on a job with him. Don’t get me wrong, Bob is one of my few long term friends, I love him death BUT (this is a big but) I do not take orders well authority figures to begin with, and having Bob bark orders at me while I am trying to learn something new, would not be good for anyone’s health, especially Bob’s.
Anyway, his job requires carrying huge spools of wiring and sometimes lifting and carrying large bulking items. At 4 foot 11 inches and 95 pounds soaking wet; I could not see this as a possibility… Oh yeah… Hello, remember the whole doctor’s concern and heart attack issues?
I started searching the ‘services wanted’ section of the classifieds and boy was I surprised at some of the ‘services’ people wanted. But wait! An ad caught my eye… “cash daily, make your own hours and no experience required…”want an interview? Call 702-###-####.” Who wouldn’t??? I got an interview immediately and was so excited I didn’t even ask what the exactly the position was.
I drove into the parking lot and cringed.
I could only guess what the position was. The place would be less obvious if the name was “I AM A STRIP CLUB;” however I was young, dumb and still clueless about what I was about to get myself into. As I made my way to the entrance I thought to myself… “this looks like a whorehouse”…
Walking through the door, I stood there with my mouth gaping and eyes squinting as I tried to see through the darkness. When my eyes finally adjusted, I wished they hadn’t… I was standing in what appeared to be a bar with a stage and pole that couldn’t have been bigger than four feet all around. There was hardly walking room to get to the barstools. Music from what sounded like a boom box poured down the stairs to my immediate right. A startling crash from upstairs somewhere made me jump. Just as I was about to turn and run back out the door, the manager came out from the behind the bar, offered me a seat at the bar, asked if I would like a drink while he took care of something and in the same sentence told me to have my ID ready when he returned.
Hmmm… I wasn’t even 21 years old and looked more like 16, a drink? Shouldn’t he have asked for my ID before offering a drink? Good thing I didn’t want a drink, since he didn’t even wait for me to answer before opening the cash register, grabbing a wad of cash out and disappearing up the stairs. As he passed me, to my surprise, every bill he had in his fist were two-dollar bills. I had seen a two dollar bill all of about three times in my life and here, the manager had to have more than fifty dollars’ worth of them in his hand and it looked like the entire register was full of them.
Several minutes later the manager returned. After copying my ID he asked if I’d like a drink, then if I knew the details for the open position. I must have had a horrified look on my face but just shook my head no. After explaining the details he asked if this was the first time I had danced. Naïve…. “Yes, I was in ballet for years from the age of three, then tap for a few years too…” the manager stared at me with a blank look on his face, then shook it off and asked if I had brought anything to audition in… No…
Let’s take a second to review again… Here I am about to audition to be a stripper… When I was offered the interview I had no idea I would be dancing much less taking my clothes off… already self-conscience of my body and having low self-esteem, I was about to get naked in front of total strangers, some of which (in my mind) had perfect bodies and tons of experience… I had never done anything even close to this before, had no idea what to do or how to do it… and why?????? Oh yeah… that’s right… all because my doctor wouldn’t release me back to my ‘normal’ job!!!