Fell Off

I haven’t written in too long. The cold weather in Ohio puts me in a certain mood.  My creative side gets shut down even though I’m spending most of my time inside (whether it be in a bar, work, or my apartment).  I have, however been working more than usual and making bank when I do, for this I credit my forced happy-go-lucky facade.

In the past, I’ve been my real self at work; insecure and grumpy.  I’ve learned that it’s not that difficult to put on a smile and ask about things I have virtually no interest in.  Men are strange creatures.  It’s 100% worth it to put in the extra work both physically and emotionally, “fake it ’till you make it” was something I’ve always preached but never really practiced.  Everyone loves talking about themselves, so if I can provide that outlet I can truly have a symbiotic relationship with my customers. I’m not sure when “divorce season” is, but I have a feeling it’s in the fall because that subject has topped the charts for a while.  I still blank sometimes on what to ask or say to my customers but I don’t think it’s completely my fault. Even being the outgoing, giggly and lewd Jane, I will undoubtedly run into one customer a night who refuses to let me brighten their day. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with this hypothetical individual, so I walk away hopeful for a rich man to fall in love with me.

So, in short, I’ve had a lucrative and enjoyable month. I’ll be posting more blogs soon as I am forcing myself to stay connected.  Thank you all, xoxoxo.



Looking Back pt. 1

Almost everything has changed since I started dancing.  Do you ever look back at yourself in High school and cringe a little?  Relatable.  I try not to look back at the old, baby shiva; How I used to talk, walk, drink, dress, and most importantly dance.

I wore regular strap-up heels for the first two weeks, and I wouldn’t believe any of the other dancers when they told me dancer heels are 200% more comfortable. Those were my first shoes and I was walking tall, never mind the deformities they gave my feet, and that my legs looked like sausages by halftime of my shift. I am one of the dancers that nags others into investing in Pleasers. Now I can barely wear heels unless they’re several inches with a large platform.  How did I ever do that? Adrenaline? Pussy Power? Hope for more money? We were making a ton of money… which to this day doesn’t make much sense for every new girl to make bank stumbling around being sweet to everyone, smiling and making eye contact with men every which way. I’ll get back to this.

I started dancing with my friend kitty who moved to Florida shortly after I did. She and I would only go up on stage together and try to fling our bodies around on a pole/ shake our asses on all fours (which we had been practicing for a couple of weeks before we started dancing).  I can’t fucking stand when two girls have to go on stage together, come on. I do try to give the benefit of the doubt for the first week or so usually, though.  Now, considering that we just started dancing for IKEA money, I tell myself to spare the image of Kitty and I practically seizing out on the floor of the stage. We didn’t mean any harm which is more than I can say for some new girls I meet.

Yes, IKEA money and we would go back to waitressing… who ever thought that out?  We both would walk out with at least 600 dollars a night for the first few weeks. Why would we ever go back to waitressing? Dancing was the absolute shit, I got drunk on the job, danced on a rotation of about 10 other girls, got paid 25 dollars per private dance lasting 3.5 minutes, and got to hang out with other hot-ass girls all night. That starter- stripper glow never made sense to me; it’s a known fact that new dancers make more money.  Maybe its because they’re not jaded yet, or maybe its because there is a dark side to dancing and they just haven’t seen it yet.

To be continued