I guess I do have to delete this blog.

I'm going to be weak.

I am weak.

It's too hard for me to write my COMPLETELY HONEST stories when people think they're fake, or just out to offend strippers, or attempted "male fantasies."

Yes, I know. This is lame. I'm giving in. I'm letting them win. But how could I ever write everything that I want to write if they're all going to hold me back? And I let them.

I was going to write about the VIP booth over the weekend, and how I got really drunk, and ended up having sex for a few seconds with a man I don't care for, but jesus, I could only imagine all the people barking at me for that, right? I was going to write about how I went to this nice hotel with him after, did some coke, and had the most awful painful sex ever, but what, is that a male fantasy? Or wait, an erroneous stereotype? Or wait, totally fake? I must be a dude, right? No one would ever do that! My labia is torn and I can barely pee, shit, that must be fake. I have to scream when I pee, and you don't believe me. You don't understand. Few people in my life even know I'm a stripper. I have all these new fake friends but they don't count. I've ditched my old ones. Do you know how much I wish I could tell my mom that I can't pee right now? But I can't. And I've just told you all, but half of you will just say bad things about me.

Creating this blog was a mistake. I thought it would be a wonderful way for me to get these awful stories out that I've sadly chosen to experience. But no, it just makes me feel worse. Because I've got other strippers just making me feel more like shit than I already do. And I didn't start this blog for that.

I think I will just write in a journal. That seems to be better.

This blog is finished.

I just don't understand...

...why people think I'm fake? Why they think I'm copying them? That's such a fucking insult. If you knew me personally, I take writing seriously, and I would never fucking copy anyone!

Caught

Jay came into the club last night.

This was the first time that someone I know personally has come in.

Of course, he had no idea that I became I stripper. It makes for a big and honest reaction.

My secret nickname for Jay was "Rebound," for obvious reasons. He's the first person I started dating I mean fucking after my ex-boyfriend and I broke up.

Oh, wait, I guess this is the second time that someone I know personally has come in.

I was genuinely humiliated when I saw Jay. We both knew this wasn't me. At least it shouldn't be.

"I absolutely will not give you a lap dance," I told him. And then I decided I will never give guy friends lap dances. New rule. 

It was a weird night. I felt like I had been caught, at rock bottom. I wasn't proud of myself. And just that feeling was enough to start questioning what the fuck it is that I'm doing. Whatever it is, it's most definitely for all the wrong reasons.

My Thing

Not too long ago, I got really tired of taking my top off, then putting it back on, over and over again, all night long. So now, I don't bother with a top. I wear my black velvet kitty collar with the rhinestones and red heart ID tag (that says Lux, of course,) and my long white pearl necklace, doubled so that the pearls are also a choker, as well as long and hanging over my boobs. I like the way they swing when I dance on the pole. Cute bottoms, and funky knee stockings or socks put over thigh-high black fishnets. And of course, my favorite black eight-inch heels. And that's it. Every day. 

It works out nicely. I never have to fuss with a top anymore. And, it's the perfect marketing scheme for what I think is my best body part. Might as well advertise.  For only $10, you can have these titties in your face!

Tonight, one dancer saw me sitting on the stairs of the DJ booth, and looked me up and down. "That's totally your thing now, isn't it? It's cool." She grabbed my pearls and started playing with them. She put the red heart tag into her hand and brought her eyes closer.

"Lux.  Sweet."

The Day Shift

Lately, I've been working a few day shifts.

I don't know why I decided to try it. I had heard other girls talk about it, so I thought it would be worth checking out.

It sure is different.

I had always heard managers or DJ's use the term, Day Girl. Like, "One of the Day Girls actually tried to come in tonight. Gross. She was sent home." I never knew what this meant.

I get it now. They're much older. Their boob jobs are hard, lopsided, and very much from the 80's. And some of them actually go by names like Candy. But guess what? These ladies have worked the pole for years now - they've got regulars coming in for them every day, more power to 'em. They're makin' their dough.

There are only a few Day Girls who are my age. A few work at other clubs in the evenings, and a few take evening classes at school. Another girl would rather be with her husband and child at night. Me, I take evening classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays - and on the other days, I sometimes cut class. Don't tell my parents.

I come to the club at 10:00 in the morning. The first three girls who arrive at the club don't have to pay a house fee. Otherwise, it's only $25. There isn't much action for the first few hours. Girls have to do two songs on stage instead of only one. Sometimes we're dancing for no one. (It's a good time to practice pole tricks.) People start trickling in during lunch. We offer a buffet.

It's absolutely bizarre to be dancing for men while they eat their spaghetti and meatballs.

I grab a plate and eat if nobody is around.

The clientele is definitely different in the daytime. The vibe definitely lacks in the fun and lighthearted. You know the slightly creepy dudes that come in by themselves wearing basketball shorts, who sit in the darkest corner available? There are a lot of those. It breaks my heart a little. They're in here every day at 11am. That seems kind of serious.

The day shift is hit or miss for me. I think I need more time to develop some regulars. There have been a lot of days that I've worked 'till 5pm, gone home to take a nap, and come back at 10pm. Those days have been financially rewarding. But I think being in a dark smoky club for most of my waking life, sipping on Red Bull, sitting in nothing but a thong, knee socks, and heels has had an effect on me. Maybe.

I may ditch the Day Shift in the future. I feel like I've simply become...addicted to stripping.