A very strange and fascinating place, Key West. I had been here for FantasyFest five years ago and had the vacation from hell--which should have ensured I would never return here again, much less to live and work. But even then I could see the appeal of it.
It's full of beautiful old houses, rich in history, laidback and peaceful, art galleries everywhere. By no means a perfect place to live, but right up there as they go. People from all over the world are drawn to this place, especially from Czechoslovakia, which produces some very beautiful women, it seems.
It's a strange mixture of American affluence and Third World conditions: luxurious hotels and run-down hovels; Mercedes and beat-up, rusty bicycles; svelte fashionable women and middle-aged, pot-bellied drunks lurching down the sidewalk.
The stereotypes people automatically associate with the island abound.
Paradise for alcoholics, a nightmare for homophobes.
There is a bar for every 40 residents, and even the manikins are gay (I swear, this one store in particular has utterly gay manikins).
The club I work in is great--they truly care about the dancers, there are no extras whatsover, even if it is full-nude, full-contact. There are the usual politics, but the employees seem to actually care about each other far more than the typical stripclub--though establishing a close rapport with the dancers is tough, since the vast majority of them barely speak English (about 45% are from Czechoslovokia, 45% from latin America, and there are maybe 5-6 American girls). Pre-Season is just kicking in and more are appearing, but the ratios are holding up.
Parking is a bitch, so everyone drives these scooters all over. Now I am starting to really want a motorcycle again! Real estate values are grossly over-inflated.
I was paying 700$ a month to take a room in a real shithole for 6 weeks, but finally managed to score what appears to be the ultimate Key west pad for 1000$ a month, a huge loft studio a block away from work on Duval street (the main drag), vaulted ceilings, big beams of wood and a giant dormer window, beautiful dark rich wood and angles everywhere. I went through the most grueling screening process imagineable to get in, but my references came through for me, apparently. It's so fucking cool, I'm waiting for the bad news, lol...
Work is going well, the money's great, even during the height of the slow season. I'll be much,much happier when I have a closer rapport with the dancers, but with the language problems it will take longer than it usually does.
One small mercy, for which I am eternally grateful: the prediction I heard that I would need to play a lot of Jimmy Buffet has proven to be completely wrong--in fact, these dancers would probably crucify me if I tried it. Instead it's necessary to bite the bullet and play a lot of bad European techno and Shakira--but this is much preferable to the former alternative.
There's a gym with heavy bags a few blocks away, so I didn't need to look for a place with a tree in the yard, lol.
FantasyFest is 2-3 weeks away, so I will get to do a lot of bodypainting soon. By then I should have a digital camera, so pictures will be posted.



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