Artistic Struggle

I’ve been thinking of new things to put on paper but I forget everything. I just moved to Ohio which has been causing stress and my depression is coming back in waves. I want to create but I don’t feel motivated or 100% in my own mind. I put one day aside to draw and something happened. Still not content with that aspect of my life. Is that what being an artist is?

Big-ass-lifted-ass-truck week

Daytona hosts plenty of trashy events, but this week topped the charts with truck week. Honestly, I don’t even know what the official title is. In short, people drive their obnoxious lifted, lit up, and most of all loud trucks to Daytona beach from wherever the fuck. 

Many people don’t know this, but Daytona is actually pretty small. Beachside (where almost every event is held) is no more than a small town during off-season. So, take an ungodly amount of trucks, each measuring twice the size of a normal vehicle and stack them on top of eachother in a span of 5 miles. Fuck me, right?  What should have taken me 3 minutes to WALK took me 20 minutes to DRIVE (to the place I get wings after work) so that is where my anger is stemming from. 

All of that aside, I had a pretty lucrative night. 


Moving Clubs Over Some Shit

Last night was dead again, I know whoever reads this is probably tired of me bitching; sorry? On the bright side, I got a new drawstring pony tail that looks amazing. Fake hair is new to me so I’m glad I have some girls to help me through it (nervous laugh). By the end of the night, almost every single girl I work with had their lockers emptied and ready to go to another club. This is why.

After a night of no money-making, a customer grabbed a fucking dancer and went to town, punching her face, and almost had her on the ground (from what I heard and partially saw /recorded in case she pressed charges), until security held him back. The girl he assaulted isn’t someone I would ever fuck with due to her height and the fact that she is the single-most sweet girl I’ve been friends with at my club. I don’t know the context (whichI don’t need to) but to hear that someone assaulted a dancer is so scary and infuriating to me. I fully regret not tase-ing his ass immediately as he was walking past me out of the club, I thought about it all night. Why have a taser at my disposal, ready to go if I don’t use it in that exact situation. I’m an idiot. Instead, I took pictures and a video of the couple as they were walking away which ended up helping.

For safety reasons, the girl’s name is Caroline. She woke up this morning with a bruised and swollen face, pain everywhere, and let’s not forget, she was attacked at her job where she should be protected. Sex workers* should be able to trust that when we go in for a shift that we are protected, respected and safe just as one would be at a conventional job. Sadly that’s usually not the case; there is a whole world behind closed doors where men take advantage of us through violence, “dependance”, and over-all misogyny. The industry tells us to expect these things so we must always have our guard up. This is unfair. A man that walks into a gentleman’s club sometimes feels entitled (as men infamously do), like they are a gift to women, and don’t recognize dancers as actual humans with empathy that deserve equal rights and respect. End rant.

Because of this incident along with other individual reasons, I am moving clubs be it temporary or not. Every dancer knows what it’s like to walk into a new club; for me it’s nerve-wracking as I am no good at meeting new people on my own terms. I’ve travelled a bit so I’ve experienced this feeling a handful of times. It really depends on the club you plan to visit, I am (sometimes to a fault) very warm and welcoming to new girls, however I have been mistreated at other clubs. Usually the house girls at new clubs aren’t quick to befriend me, sometimes they’re just straight up rude. I’m still excited to move on because:

  1. I will undoubtedly make more money than where I am currently.
  2. A new face always brings in some dough.
  3. Maybe I will meet other dancers that I get along with (any dancer knows that this is a major key to having a good night).
  4. Fuck it, why not.

Wish me luck.


*I define myself as a sex worker even though I am not using actual sex to employ myself. It is just a term, calm down.