Okay, among better clubs Crossroads was always considered a joke. The money isn't any better than a good "normal" job (I averaged a gross of around $22-$26 per hour). The crowd sucks and is mostly composed of broke, lonely sailors. In large part the dancers are average looking; for every good-looking girl there was another who was downright ugly/old. With a few noteworthy exceptions, they aren't very good dancers either. Additionally, it has a terrible reputation as a bikini bar with extras and vicious dancers.
I miss it anyways, dammit. I knew what the hell I was doing. I knew everyone. That place was rough, but once you had become part of the gang, you were almost like family. People looked out for each other. I had the good locker! I owned that stage every night. I had earned respect as the good-looking one, the one people came to see on stage, the "professional" dancer who never caused problems, the dressing room "nice girl". Hell, I even miss the VIP couches; I could do tricks on those things that I can't do in the new club's VIP booths.
Blech. Maybe I just don't like being the new girl. There's all these little rules which no one has any intention of clueing me in on, but they still get pissed when I don't follow them. Mainly, everyone at the new club has their hand out. They start popping out of the woodwork at the end of the shift; it's no thing to fork over $100 in tips to these assorted people, apparently. If you don't, you're just a cheap bastard.
The VIP bouncer won't take tips at the end of the shift. It was days before someone finally told me that he is accustomed to taking his tip in the VIP room. So here I am, trying to tip this guy and he won't take the money, but he also won't tell me what I was supposed to be doing instead.
And then there's the bartender. At Crossroads, we had free Cokes. At the new club we also have free Cokes. It's an employee priviledge. However, the bartender heer expects to be tipped for everything, including just topping off a Coke. It was three days before anyone bothered to tell me this. Having seen someone tip the bar out at the end of the night, I planned to do the same. But noooo, she bitches me out on the fourth day in front of the customers for not tipping for the free Coke. So obviously tipping at night is not the norm. Would have been helpful to know this in advance, but oh well. Yesterday I switch to tipping when I get my Coke instead of waiting until the end of the shift. Then, at the end of the shift when I'm leaving, the bartender wants to know where her tip-out is. Jesus H Christ, how much am I supposed to pay to get a free goddamned Coke?
Maybe these people are just assuming every dancer made $300 every night. They seem to think you're a cheap bastard if you don't tip as if you made $300, whether you did or not.
The only thing I've accomplished thus far by switching clubs was to lose all the benefits I had at my old club (unless you count the decreased chance of being bitten on stage). The only thing I really like about the new club is the DJ, but then I really liked my old DJ as well. Frankly, it's the exact same money I made at Crossroads, so far. Less if you count the money I had to shell out for evening gowns.
Maybe I'm just feeling pessimistic because it's been a less-than-optimal week. Perhaps I just miss my old club; after all, the only thing I didn't like about it was the crowd. I'll give it another two weeks or so (maybe three), but if the new club doesn't start looking much better then I think I'll just go back.



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