One cardinal rule of strip club music: Any song about strippers or strip clubs, no matter how crass, unrealistic or goofy, gets played over and over. So does any song with "strip" in the name, so Faith No More's "Stripsearch", despite being, as far as I can tell from the video, about a counterfeiter getting stopped at a border checkpoint, is on the list of songs I first heard in a titty bar, as is Depeche Mode's "Stripped" and the Rammstein cover of same. (Though since that one's actually about getting naked and back to the wilderness, it's fairly suitable.)
I digress. Anyway, "Shake That". Eminem & Nate Dogg. I've heard it to death -- it's a song about, basically, a fantasy of a stripper who'll totally give it up to the guys in the club. Or at least to Eminem and Nate Dogg.
The lyrics are pretty misogynistic, mostly in an over-the-top way: they're "lookin for a girl I can fuck in my Hummer truck / Apple bottom jeans and a big ol slut", and are talking about slipping her E - which is not a date-rape drug, but srsly, guys, don't drug anyone without their permission, that's just not cool.
And yet, in the middle of all this, it becomes clear that something's shifting, because part of their fantasy of this extremely fuckable girl is that she
"Knows that she can but she won't say no."
I like that. It tells me that, for every one step back, we really DO get our two steps forward.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
Small towns and big cities.
No better place to start than the present: I'm a big-city girl, but I go to the small town to make some money.
Huh, you say?
It's pretty simple: I live in a city with a lot of strip clubs. People walk into the strip bar for lunch and a beer, they tip a couple bucks at my stage and they walk out; it's nothing truly special to them, it's routine.
In a small town, people have to go a long way to get to the strip club - and there's not another one next door.
On top of that, though, I think repressive sexual mores have something to do with it. It's weird to me to think sexual repression helps my business; I'm very political about trying to open others to new viewpoints - I believe everyone should be in touch with their needs, and open with others. So it does occur to me occasionally, the idea that I'm ultimately influencing these men (and a few women) to become less likely to spend money on strippers.
In my neck of the woods, people can see pussy every day. Why would they go out of their way to see mine? I'm not forbidden fruit.
And when I am, it makes a difference; my earnings go up. In a couple of days I'm going to drive out to the middle of nowhere, stay for a while and take my clothes off, laugh and chat and get not nearly anywhere as drunk as my couple of beers will make me act, and do what I do. I'm going to do so because I make more money there than here. There's something compelling about ministering to the sex-deprived, too; there's a look of reverence in their eyes. The dollars fly.
But it's not just my body they want to see, either; it's a smile and returned interest, willingness to listen. I genuinely love most of my customers, if only for a little while. And that's why I don't, ultimately, see a conflict. Even urban people don't always get the care and attention they need, and part of my job as a dancer is generating a whirlwind of love -- of the feeling of being included, the light at the center of the party, the knowledge that you're not alone.
Huh, you say?
It's pretty simple: I live in a city with a lot of strip clubs. People walk into the strip bar for lunch and a beer, they tip a couple bucks at my stage and they walk out; it's nothing truly special to them, it's routine.
In a small town, people have to go a long way to get to the strip club - and there's not another one next door.
On top of that, though, I think repressive sexual mores have something to do with it. It's weird to me to think sexual repression helps my business; I'm very political about trying to open others to new viewpoints - I believe everyone should be in touch with their needs, and open with others. So it does occur to me occasionally, the idea that I'm ultimately influencing these men (and a few women) to become less likely to spend money on strippers.
In my neck of the woods, people can see pussy every day. Why would they go out of their way to see mine? I'm not forbidden fruit.
And when I am, it makes a difference; my earnings go up. In a couple of days I'm going to drive out to the middle of nowhere, stay for a while and take my clothes off, laugh and chat and get not nearly anywhere as drunk as my couple of beers will make me act, and do what I do. I'm going to do so because I make more money there than here. There's something compelling about ministering to the sex-deprived, too; there's a look of reverence in their eyes. The dollars fly.
But it's not just my body they want to see, either; it's a smile and returned interest, willingness to listen. I genuinely love most of my customers, if only for a little while. And that's why I don't, ultimately, see a conflict. Even urban people don't always get the care and attention they need, and part of my job as a dancer is generating a whirlwind of love -- of the feeling of being included, the light at the center of the party, the knowledge that you're not alone.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Intro
It's been a long time. I'm out of shape. I've been identifying as a boy for a year, so I've been out of the industry and doing other things.
And the money is bad right now according to all my sources, and nothing is guaranteed.
And yet.
And yet I want to do this. I've missed it. Dancing. Taking my clothes off and working up a sweat onstage or for a private onlooker... Sometimes creative performance, sometimes just trite foxy-girl moves, whatever sells right then and there.
It's a job for money, and yet I seem to sell less of myself doing it than I do in most 'straight' jobs. I wrote a book in my off hours the last time I was a stripper, and it was a good book. I know what a job is taking out of me by what I have left later.
There are a lot of reasons why I like the kinds of sex work I've done and want to do more. Enough that it won out over being a boy.
More later.
And the money is bad right now according to all my sources, and nothing is guaranteed.
And yet.
And yet I want to do this. I've missed it. Dancing. Taking my clothes off and working up a sweat onstage or for a private onlooker... Sometimes creative performance, sometimes just trite foxy-girl moves, whatever sells right then and there.
It's a job for money, and yet I seem to sell less of myself doing it than I do in most 'straight' jobs. I wrote a book in my off hours the last time I was a stripper, and it was a good book. I know what a job is taking out of me by what I have left later.
There are a lot of reasons why I like the kinds of sex work I've done and want to do more. Enough that it won out over being a boy.
More later.
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