Holiday Blues

Just been on holiday to Ibiza and back at work. Bummer. Ibiza was amazing, not really for the parties, although they were good…but mainly for the energy of the place. I know that sounds all hippy but I don’t care. Maybe I want to be a hippy…maybe I want to be one of those guys that wanders happily up and down the beach all day, selling their gorgeous colourful clothes they bought in India for about 50p. Why not? Trust me, it would be better than putting my corset back on after a week of eating fried calamari and chipirones everyday. And on the subject of energy, the club I work in has to have one of the worst kinds. The minute you walk in through the back entrance you are greeted by the disdainful glare of the back door security guard, a man who doesn’t understand the concept of bad mood as he has spent his entire life in one and who looks at you as though you have just thrown his mother out of her home and left her living on the streets in a pile of her own shit. As you can see, I love this guy…and he loves me. He grabs your bag off you and thrusts his hand into it, feeling and groping around, pulling out items and laughing scornfully at them or commenting derogatively on them. Then barks at you to take your coat off so he can frisk it. Oh God, I love this guy. If you manage to survive this interaction with your positive energy intact, you then open the door to the club and commence down the stairs, where another hateful security guard waits to make a stupid perverted comment about whatever stupid perverted subject is currently occupying his stupid and perverted mind. Obviously I am always late, so I am then routinely shouted at by the floor manager, who is a prime example of both napoleon syndrome and power issues in modern man and who talks to me like my most hated teachers talked to me in high school. Looking around you see the philipino bus boys with dread and weariness in their faces, all set in their ways from 20 years of work in this place, who all say the same thing every day…’Ooooooh dear….Nothing anymore…NOTHING!...no business…no money….Ooooooh dear…’ Everyone moans about there not being any money anymore, even though everyone is making enough. Everyone watches everyone else and how much they are making and bitches and comments and scowls. Everyone is out for themselves and steal other peoples customers, tables and tips. I say everyone, but that’s not true….there are clearly some great people there but the general energy of the place is one of greed, anger, resentment, boredom, vanity and facades. I need to get out of there. Or change my attitude. I’m sure there is a more positive way of looking at it. I’m going to a Buddhist and meditation class tonight…7-8.30pm just round the corner from my house. I’m a bit apprehensive about what kind of people will be there…I have grown up to be very judgmental of the kind of people that attend Buddhist and meditation classes unfortunately. However, I am now one of those people so I am going to embrace it and hope that it gives me some positive energy, preferably enough to get through work happily tonight, and maybe even spread some through the club along the way….Lord knows, it needs it.

Over reaction

Wow, there are some serious bitches in that place. Last night one of the dancers threatened to smash a glass in my face because I was apparently stealing her money. This is what happened: A group of guys came in and ordered a bottle of vodka at one of the tables on the main floor. After a little while I noticed the main guy, whos credit card I had and who had been very polite and lovely to me, was standing at the bar on his own. I went over to check that he was ok and he told me he didn’t want to go back to the table as he was trying to escape from the young Romanian girl that had sat herself next to him and wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her there. He asked me how to politely let the girls know that he didn’t want to pay for them so I told him to just be honest and straight-forward but not to be rude. Anyway we chatted for a short while and another dancer came over, a beautiful tall Russian girl with big boobs that look natural but aren’t. She started to talk to him so I left them to it. I saw him take her for a couple of dances and then later when I went to check on the table, he wasn’t there but she was, along with his friend and another girl. I asked everyone if they were ok and everyone said they were fine except the Russian, who called me over to the side. ‘I don’t understand what’s going on here…why does this guy not want to pay? What did he say to you? I saw you chatting…’ she said to me accusingly. So I told her what we talked about and asked her if he had paid her for her dances. She told me he had, but that if I pushed him, he would spend more money on her and she would give me a tip. But I didn’t want to push him, I didn’t need a tip from her, I just wanted to make sure the customer was happy and enjoying himself, not feeling pressured or ripped off, which they often do and I could tell he was starting to. I listened to her but shrugged it off and got on with my evening. Later I was again talking to this customer and she came over and interrupted us by sticking her hand down his shirt and caressing his chest. He looked clearly uncomfortable and obviously just wanted her to leave. We acknowledged her and said hi but then got on with our conversation. The next thing I know, the girl had complained about me to the money girl, to two of the managers, the house mum and anyone else who would listen. She was drunkenly stumbling around, pointing me out and telling anyone within earshot what a stupid bitch I was. Apparently I was stopping her from making money by talking to the customer, therefore ‘stealing’ her money. She was complaining to the money girl, ‘She might as well be a dancer if she wants to play that game… I’d like to smash my glass right in her face’. Ok, then….over reacting someone? If a guy wants to spend money on the girls, he will, regardless of the waitress. And if he doesn’t, he won’t. Most girls know this and use the fact that the customer likes the waitress to their advantage, but some people let greed get the better of them. That’s what money can do to you in that place…

I'm Alright, Thanks...

There is this one customer that comes in every now and again. I’m the only waitress he likes to serve him and every time he comes in he says that he hopes next time he comes in I won’t be there. Not because he can’t stand to be near me, but because he thinks I’m capable of doing something better than working as a waitress in a strip club and so clearly, that’s what I should be doing. Why do people say that?…’what are you doing here anyway, you seem so intelligent and normal’… and they look at you in confusion and pity. They don’t realize that they are basically implying that you are stupid by even asking that question. Do they really think that I think that this is the be all and end all of my life? If they don’t then obviously they must realize I’m there for a reason that suits me right now. And if they do think this is my be all and end all, why are they dissing it? Or they ask…’so, what else do you do then?’ as though you must be doing something else as well…you have to be. What if I’m not? Why can’t people just work in a strip club? Ok, so there is probably an age limit, and it’s not the most practical job if you have kids, but some people do it. The bartender upstairs is about 58 and still has her cleavage proudly on show, collecting stupid amounts of tips on a nightly basis. To be fair, she is an idiot, but still! People shouldn’t be so arrogant to think that we are all just stuck there against our will and dying for someone to tell us we are good enough so we can finally get out of there. Some of us actually want to be there. For some of us the large amounts of money for easy work, short hours, as much holiday as we want and having all our days free, is quite agreeable. In my experience, much more preferable to a meaningless office job that the majority of the population occupy themselves with because society says its ok. No thanks, I’m quite happy where I am for now. So there.

Deeply Shallow

So, what did I learn last night in the strip club? I definitely learned that wearing high heels all night can make your legs feel like they have varicose veins constantly rumbling under the surface, ready to sprout at a moments notice. Probably changing my shoes from my ‘vintage’ Primark numbers that felt like slippers, to nice heels that actually look good probably wasn’t a good idea. Aesthetically, yes. If I want to prevent invasive vein removal surgery in the near future, no.

I also learned that love can blossom in the strangest of places. Last night a guy proposed to his girlfriend while she was having a lapdance. Apparently the table they were sitting at was where they had first met and he had given the stripper the ring to surprise her with. How romantic. She accepted; love was in the air, blah bah blah. Meanwhile another couple is having sex in one of the VIP booths while amused dancers watched the action on the CCTV screens in the changing rooms. There’s a lesson…don’t shag in a club where there are cameras every square yard. Walk of shame is an understatement.

What else? I’m feeling pretty shallow today…no deep insights from this corner. Don’t drink too much champagne and shout at your manager when you are blatantly and obviously in the wrong. It can be embarrassing the next day. Voila! Insightful…

Poor Misguided Fools...

Sometimes I don’t understand what these people are thinking. I was serving a guy last night who is a regular customer of one of the highest earning dancers in the club. This girl actually really grates on my nerves…she literally dances in slow motion, moving as though she has been filmed normally and then slowed down to a quarter of the pace. Apparently this is supposed to be sexy. The main problem with this is that dancing this way for so long has actually affected the rest of her behaviour and now EVERYTHING she does is in slow motion, even the way she talks. She will look at you, slowly purse her lips and blink her eyes, keeping them closed for about three seconds, slowly drag them open and then say ‘vooooodkaaaa diiiieet coooooke….pleeeeeeeeaaaaaase…..’ then purse, blink and turn away again like a shiny blonde sloth. Anyway….this is besides the point.

Last night she was with this guy and all seemed to be going well…the usual sit down for regular customers: all talking, no dancing. Then all of a sudden he was gone and she came up to me to ask if he had paid the bill before he left. He hadn’t. Apparently he had stormed out on her, in her words, ‘cos I didn’t say I loved him’. She looked upset. According to her he had wanted her to be his girlfriend and have a meaningful relationship and tonight was the night that he had asked her if it would ever happen. She had said no. Got to give it to her for honesty. So he had walked out in a huff.

A few minutes later he came back looking for his credit card. We sorted out the bill and then he sighed and said morosely, ‘Tonight is a sad night….’. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Because this is the last time I will ever come here.’ Me being my curious self, wanted to know his side of the story so I probed him further. Apparently he and his accountant had worked out that he had spent between 50 and 70 grand on this girl in the past 2 and a half years. Every time he came in he gave her a grand. And now he is upset that it was all a farce. ‘I don’t understand these girls…why would they call me and tell me to come in, book flights to Italy with me and then turn around and tell me it doesn’t mean anything.’ Well….the answer to that is simple, they call you to tell you to come in cos you give them a grand every time you do and this is their job. The flights, I don’t know, like I said some girls go a bit further than dancing but it’s still a way to make money, it’s certainly not romance. I asked him why, if he thought what was happening between them was real, did he give her a grand each time. ‘Good question…’ he mumbled. Well, hello!!! Did this not cross his mind before? How do these men think that paying a girl to talk to them is the start of a romance??? What the??? Then he goes on to say that when you have so much money like him, it’s impossible to find a nice girl. So now apparently he is off to build a house in Thailand, where according to him the girls actually do what they say they will. I did venture to suggest that perhaps he wasn’t looking in the right places… no doubt fell on deaf ears...if he hasn’t worked that out by now he may never do. So who is in the wrong here? The dancer for apparently leading him on, although she maintains she never did, or him for being dumb enough to think that paying a girl in a strip club was the way to get a real girlfriend? Who knows…

Money

I tell you one thing that is the most obvious lesson I have learned about humanity since working in strip clubs: Money brings out the worst in people. When I say people, I am also including in this myself and my good friends, as well as all the myriad of people in the strip club who allow money to stamp all over their dignity, integrity and general sense of what is right on a nightly basis. Now I’m not talking about the fact that people dance naked for money, no, that is probably the most honest and innocent thing that goes on there in regards to money. Even if the girls went home with the customers for a fee at the end of the night, which some of them no doubt do, at least they are being honest about it. What I’m talking about is the sneakiness, the stealing, the jelousy, the lies, the corruption and the scams that are an everyday fixture of these kinds of clubs. Not to mention the shameless arse kissing and running around after rich men to receive a hand out.

Now don’t go thinking this only applies to the dancers, waiters and other staff. No, no, no… infact the people that make me the most sick with their behaviour are the managers. The people who should know better, the people who should be setting an example. Recently, there were a load of people fired from the club. They were fired because they had been stealing in a big way for almost 10 years: very organized, very lucrative. We all knew it, everyone knew it but no one could say anything as it went right up to the management. Now this I can’t prove for sure but we had our ways of knowing. Everyone else got fired but the management remains. It happens all the time that certain people (dancers, money sellers or waiters) get the best tables because either they are sleeping with, married to or tipping a certain manager. Customers are taken from one side of the club to the other so that they can be served by someone who is in on a certain money making scam. The dancers and waiters are hardly innocent either, there have been incidents of payments of thousands being taken from sleeping customers, bottles being brought in from outside and sold for cash, the list goes on. And then there is the jelousy when other people make more money...

Sometimes I think the more dishonest, greedy and cowardly you are, the further you will go in this business. When you first realize the way it works in this place it can be hard, you don’t understand how people can behave the way they do. But then you get used to it… then you begin to understand it…and then you have to work hard not to become that way yourself. Now I know money can bring out the worst in people, I’ve seen it. But another thing I have learned in the strip club is that if you recognize the signs, and work to overcome them, it could just bring out the best in you too.

As long as you learn...

I decided to change the name of the blog as it occurred to me the other night, while leaning against the bar watching a girl in green lycra trying to seduce a fat office worker, that I should try to learn from the time I spend in that place. No time is wasted if there is a lesson learned. So here we go...

Things I learn in a strip club. Not much really, or lots, depending on how you look at it. One thing I have definitely learned is how to manipulate and charm men into giving you money. Admittedly not really a skill I use outside of work, unfortunately I’ve never found myself attracted to rich men! However this skill is undoubtedly useful to some outside, and definitely useful in the club. Linked to this skill is another that I have mastered, which is to know in an instant how a customer wants to be treated and how to act accordingly. Now this may sound simple, surely you just need to be polite? No. Absolutely not… some people actually like to be taken the piss out of, some like to joke around, some like to be respected, some want to be feared, some want you to fancy them, some to talk them through their problems. Some want to be rescued, some just want you to serve them and shut the fuck up. But the important thing is to know straight away…lots of the time, the customers with the most money are extremely sensitive and if they aren’t treated in precisely the right way, you can kiss your tip goodbye.

I guess they know what power they have in a place like that, they know everyone is hoping for a handout and kissing their arse to get one. There are some customers that can flip and turn nasty if you say the wrong thing, some that literally refuse to let you serve them for some unexplained reason. However, if you behave in just the right way, and know what buttons to press, you can twist that man right around your finger. Which is exactly how the best dancers make their money. Trust me, looks have almost nothing to do with it. The highest earners in the club are nowhere near the most attractive, in fact quite the opposite. It’s all about the mind. It might sound like just becoming an expert in arse kissing, and yes, that helps, but that’s not really it. It’s all about analyzing the psychology of the man, why he came here in the first place, what does this mean to him? Does he want to use his wealth to feel powerful? Does he need a shoulder to cry on? Does it make him feel like more of a man? Is he lonely and craves the attention? Or is he just having a bit of fun? Interesting really, who would have known that working as a waitress in a strip club could become an exercise in psychological analysis? And I’m not even a dancer! Maybe I should be…