Many years ago in a time of emotional despair, rather then desperation, I looked into escorting and researched all the upper-class agencies. As I browsed through the images of the escorts on their website, I found myself feeling inadequate. My pale skin didn't compare to their golden bodies; my hair was short and fuzzy unlike their long silky locks; my breasts were small and my tummy rounded, unlike their enhanced breasts and toned stomachs. I decided that I would never be hired because I couldn't meet the expectations.
When one of my male friends in the industry told me I could be a stripper, I laughed it off. Not only was I in a relationship at the time, I also had some stereotypes about the profession and the men who attended the clubs. However when the relationship ended and I found myself in financial troubles, I started asking questions. Was he serious; would someone actually pay to see me dance?
I guess even strippers can be judgmental of others. A lot of strippers look down on prostitutes or girls in clubs on the other side of town where the morals are even looser. I think everyone will try to justify their choices: I dance down to a g-string only; I would never do a XXX show like those girls. I admit to being like that at times. I could never imagine myself using a vibrator in front of a room of men or feeling comfortable uncrossing my legs to let a stranger admire my vagina, let alone a boyfriend. So when my friend told me about a safe, upper-market club situated two hours away (yes, it is a long commute to work) that didn't allow me to do either, I arranged an interview.
I see my breasts as being baby-feeders. Although I have no children, I don't really see the fuss in these two pieces of fat that are on my chest. I never really have seen the amazement in asses either - it is an exit point for one of the least attractive things a body can do. Until I am River, I don't view my body as anything sexy. It is just a body. Maybe that is why it seems so ridiculous that I could make hundreds of dollars each hour dancing around.
When I arrived at the club, it wasn't much different to the standard club with a gaming area and bistro. The man interviewing me was a young, handsome man who treated me with the same respect as he would the bar staff or gaming attendants. He outlined to me all the rules in regards to what I am and am not allowed to do. I embrace each rule, because without them I would most likely copy what the other girls did.
With me to the interview I took a bag full of lingerie and make-up, hoping that I would have the opportunity to dance that night. After the long trip it would be a waste of time and petrol money to not dance. Luckily a 7pm opening had come up and they needed a dancer so they wavered my $30 shift fee. For three hours I worked, spending 45 minutes in total on the podium and 30 minutes in a private room (will put more information in the another blog) and made the money I so desperately needed.
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