Copyright © 2010 by Christine Macdonald. All Rights Reserved.
This is a re-post from March. Enjoy.
The Flying Stiletto
Picture it. Me, twirling on the pole at the edge of the runway stage, legs in the air. My right heel slips off my foot and goes flying in the crowd. I continue to dance with one bare foot (on my tip toe to balance the six inch difference). What a professional.
This title is reserved for a petite little Taiwanese gal. She stood all of five feet and her ass sounded like a broken muffler. Talk about little spark plug.
She was a young mother and still breast feeding. Need I say more?
Don't quit your day job
Toward the end of my career at 27, I took a job waiting tables at California Pizza Kitchen during the week. I cut my stripping hours down to the weekends as I tried to transition to the real world of minimum wage and time cards.
When word got out of my weekend stripping life, all three managers came in the club to check me out. I was completely naked and bent over taking a tip when I recognized their three faces, upside down, smiling at me from the front door. I waved hello and continued on stage. From that night on, I always got my requested restaurant shifts.
I had a regular customer who came in every Friday afternoon from work. He was an electrician and giggled when he got nervous. A harmless man who I thought was too kind for the strip scene, so I never bothered to tell him about his one discolored, glowing fake tooth. Black lights and dental work do not mix. Remember that one fellas.
Excuse me, I can see…
When anyone is rushed, we can forget our keys, paperwork at the office or our wallet on the dresser. When strippers are rushed (ok, high on coke) they can forget to wipe the white powder from their nose, remove stray toilet paper and yes… even to hide their tampon string before going on stage. Have I mentioned the black lights?
"Laugh at yourself first, before anyone else can" ~ Elsa Maxwell