Sunday, April 26, 2009

Cranky stripper.

Seriously guys? I love my job. In so many different ways.

But a lame night is still a lame night.

The party I worked tonight probably would have made me a little cranky no matter what happened. While they were mostly cute, late-20's professionals, there were far too many of them. As in a fuckton of them. And mostly drunk, mostly not tipping us more than one dollar bills the whole time we were there. Plus, because of the sheer number of them crammed into such a small space, we were pretty much grabbed, pinched, spanked, and motor-boated everytime we turned around. Sure, it's kind of the name of the game, but we expect to get paid better. Usually we do.

And in this case, becuase of how long the show was (it was a three hour minimun booking because of a poker tournament that we were dealing), it was freaking exhausting.

But whatever, it was fine. It was maybe a little annoying in the way that big, long, poorly-tipping parties can be, but it was fine.

Except that someone stole some of my clothes. As in went into the room where we were keeping our stuff and randomly took out several pieces of my stripper costumes from my bag. And from my partner's bag too.

I never, ever leave my stuff in the room I change in. As a rule, I always keep my bag in my sightline while I perform. Just like I always put the door fee into one of the boots that I'm wearing. They're just smart habits I picked up from some pros when I first started, and I've never had a problem with either my stuff or my money getting fucked with.

Until tonight. I'm totally aggravated at myself for trusting the guy who lived there when he said that he was going to lock our stuff in his room for us so we didn't have to worry about it. But he was insistent and we didn't have anything of 'real' value in our bags - no wallet, phones, money, etc, so we figured it'd be easier. And really, it wasn't as feasible to keep our bags with us as it usually is.

We confronted both him and the actual host (who was really nice and rightfully mortified that someone would have the nerve to take some of our stuff) about it, but no luck. They supposedly asked around, but whoever did it - I'm guessing either as a drunk joke (look! stripper clothes! hilarious!), or - more likely - as a pervy, fetish-y thing, didn't fess up. Honestly, I'm pretty certain it was the guy whose room it was, the one who 'locked up' for us, who randomly filched my two favorite stripper outfits (why my favorites?? Why couldn't you have taken the other two in the bag???) while we were dealing poker.

So yeah. I'm fucking cranky. And if anyone has any advice on the best online place to get an awesome replacement schoolgirl skirt, let me know. I'd appreciate it.

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Neighborly.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. I mention this because the last few days have not been so nice in my fair city, and, as anyone knows, a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon following a good number of dark and rainy days is the recipe for people to be outside and congenial with each other.

So I went for a run. I warmed up by walking down to one of my favorite urban trails through a couple of pleasant, mostly residential neighborhoods. Tons of people were gardening or cleaning their garages or just hanging around outside smiling at the people who walked by. It was lovely. I returned a greeting from the man weeding on the corner. I said hello to the woman pulling grocery sacks out of her trunk. I grinned at people as they smiled at me.

I was a block away from where I like to start my run. I looked at the man on his stoop as he laced up his shoes. Almost imprectibly, I smiled.

"FUCK YOU, bitch. FUCK YOU." He screamed at me. He kept screaming at me as I continued past him. I could hear him as I walked by a mother and her two children walking in the opposite direction on the sidewalk. We exchanged a shared look of 'Ah. Well, what can you do.' as we passed each other. Her two young daughters were distracted and oblivious, happily tuning him out as they debated the flowers in each other's hair.

The only reason I bring this up is because I remember when a random (sane-looking) person yelling obscentities at me would have really hurt my feelings. Even if I'd rationally understood that it wasn't personal (how could it be?), that knowledge wouldn't have mattered. I probably would've been haunted by the experience. Or at least genuinely preoccupied and concerned about what I might have done that caused that man's reaction.

I think I've just been a stripper a long time. Or maybe I'm just older. Either way, I appreciate my ability to let things roll of my back. I appreciate my growing understanding of people, and my ability to step back and be objective.

Just wanted to share. My next post will in acknowledgement of a blogger award I got from one of my favorite stripper-blogger friends (thanks Sakura!) Since all of the blogs I read regularly have already been tagged, I'm trying to cull different blogs that I enjoy so that I can share their goodness with you. Should be soon, but no promises.