So I'm home for the labor day weekend, and I ring up my old club, the place I got started and love very much (mostly for the money), and ask if I can slip in for a night. I get the affirmative, and show up last night. No one else shows up until close to eight (we opened at six) but this isn't really out of the ordinary. I'm dressed and ready to go at 7:30, when a couple dudes walk in and I dance for them...and then again because no other girls have showed up. Finally the resident drama-mill shows up (she accuses other girls of stealing from her heavily locked locker, accuses the floorman of shorting her her money from lapdances, decides she doesn't WANT to go on stage just about then, etc.)
She takes two hours to get ready. Most of this is spent on the phone, gum-snapping and talking more drama. A couple other girls trickle in. I do enough lapdances to cover my housefee, but in the first hour and a half that I am there, I am up on stage no less than seven times. Drama-Chick is up twice, and she bitches to the DJ that she's been up there too much.
Another chick there I was good friends with until I moved. She walks in with her bag, shoes, and a brown paper bag, which contains a bottle of Skyy. She informs us her man, who was a total leech before, has broken up with her in a coke-fit. She informs me she SHE is doing coke now, and begins to take long drags from this bottle of Skyy. Another hour and a half passes and STILL NO ONE IS READY to go up on stage. I am glad to take the money meant for them, but if I were a custie, I'd probably get bored of the same scenery sixty-bazillion times.
Rotation, once they get it moving, is a loose wheel, with Drama-chick refusing to get on stage because she's 'been up there too many times' (even though I've got her beat by at least eight times now), Best-Friend getting steadily manic, and four girls call off, leaving four of us for a Saturday night. Manager goes nuts and calls all the girls he can, and two agree to come in.
I'm exhausted but still pushing because I need every dime right now since Labor Day week at my new club has been a joke. I'm making a lot of cash. I'm up on stage and some dud is throwing money at me, and at some point I notice two twenties amongst the pile. I sweep it all up to the pole and go dance for some other guys when I see one look behind me and go "Uh oh!" I look back and some dud is grabbing at my money. I turn and stare dead at him and he freezes. I walk over, sweep it all back, and resume what I'm doing. Manager comes up to me a few minutes later and says the customer wants his twenties back, they were a 'mistake', that me meant to throw ones, and to give them back. My fuse was short, I wanted to laugh at him and keep it (because I have no sympathy for those who don't watch what they are doing), but I give it back anyway because I don't feel like creating more drama for my manager.
I also learned a few pole tricks at my new club, and my old club didn't do many tricks at all besides a basic spin, so I bust out my moves. A couple other girls must have learned a few things and quickly outdid me. *sigh* Ego deflated.
Meanwhile Best-Friend has become a one woman train wreck. She is bawling in the dressing room, slamming around drunk, dropping her shit everywhere, and scaring customers. I'm really worried about her now, but I know I can't so anything. She is up on stage all of three times before management says that she's done, that she can wait here until the girl who was giving her a ride is finished for the night. At one point she bursts into the lap-dance area bawling and collapses on a couch in front of a girl giving a lapdance. Kinda kills the mood.
I suppose I'm rewarded for all of my non-drama with a champagne room with a nice Marine boy (who totally loves the whole 'stripper fawns over marine' thing and we had a good time) , and over $200 in stage tips alone, which is insane for this little hole in the wall. The other girls bitch they made no money from stage (well no fucking duh, I went up for you when you decided you needed time after getting out of a dance before you were going up on stage), and I go home, but DAYAM. This club never had this much drama, and the new chick (Drama-chick) is just killing it.
Sigh. Makes me miss my new club.
I made almost $300, which isn't bad



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