wingbowl

I started my stripper-day at 7am yesterday. For those of you who do not know what wingbowl is, I will explain. Wingbowl is a chicken-wing eating contest and afterward, thousands of men throughout the greater Philadelphia area disperse to the local strip clubs. They pack in by the thousands, 9am on wingbowl Friday looks like 11pm on the best saturday of all time, ever. You can barely move a muscle in the club without running into someone or spilling your beer.


That being said, it is a great say to make money. Girls come out from stripper retirement to work this glorious of days. If you stay from 7am to 2am you can easily make a grand. But, with me being lazy and all I leave between 6:30 and 7pm.


This year, by 7 , I had probably done at least 20 lapdances (I have no idea, I lost count after about ten) and my tits were scratched to all hell from 5 o'clock shadows. It was a pretty good day for me, I couldn't walk out onto the floor without someone asking me for a dance. I personally feel I spent too much time in the dressing room and could have made much more cash than I actually did. The guys were actually very nice this year, no one was rude save for one guy who thought he was too pretty to be there. Men commented that I was "absolutely lucious looking". No one tried to grab my tits or put their fingers in me. This is quite a feat, and I must say I am very proud of you Men of Philadelphia. Although you had all "been drinking since 4am" or "been drinking since last night" you managed to stay cool and not act lik me assholes towards me. But, I must say I did Barbie-fy myself for the event. Other girls were not so lucky. Some did not remember to ask for their lap dance money up front. I witnessed an old man being held against the wall by a bouncer when he refused to pay a girl after a lap dance. The guy was kicked out and the girl never got her money for what probably was an agonizing 4 minutes. Another girl was verbally assaulted by a woman I can only guess was dragged there by her husband/boyfriend or came to "keep an eye on him" and was uncomfortable being in the same place as so many beautiful, naked women. So thank you cool dudes of Philadelphia for keeping it in your pants, paying the rest of my security deposit and NOT making my day a living hell.

how the other half lives/another saturday night

I had off my first friday night in a year and a half. I went to meet P. and two of his friends at Drinkers and they were two hours late. In that time I observed some pretty saddening behavior. I realized I do not have a boring life, I am not a "normie" and I'm happy to be an outcast. I could not live and behave the way these people do, it made me sick to my stomach. I also realized why Philly was voted ugliest city. JUST SAYING. On the upside, Johnny Snakebites, P's nickname for the bartender gave me a whole container of maraschino cherries and looked all downtrodden yet smug when P ordered my drink. Apparently P totally bummed him out but he was smug because he just KNEW that I looooove cherries in my stoli raz and soda.


Tonight=FAIL! I should be making way more money with that amount of dudes staring into the business end of my pussy. BUT we did have a meeting in which all of a sudden crazy superbitch Jane came out and started going off about all the things I bitch about in this blog. And when I was the the other strippers clapped. Their hands. FOR ME. Usually I keep quiet about my annoyances but I couldn't take it any more. Afterwards, my manager said "Hey Norma Rae, what's your problem? Since when do you start screaming about tips and throwing my bouncers under the bus? Go find yourself a chill pill." And then gave me a pound. He is the coolest.

umm thursday january 22?

I need to focus on writing about being a stripper because I have about 3 other things milling around in my mind and some people I really need to talk to but need to get up the balls, including my bitch ass little brat of a brother.


That being said, I managed to put my anguish and feeling like a jerkass aside for the evening and ACTUALLY MADE MONEY. Like, to go towards my phone bill which is magically 100 dollars more than usual. So first there was the random older guy that was into me. He got one dance. Then there was the white thug kid with the "Suck my Glock" shirt on (I had a crush on his shirt) who got a dance with me because I danced to Juicy by Biggie. Then there was the really sweet grad student that got three dances, told me I was awesome then didn't talk to me for 2 hours. Then I was bored and went to say hi to him again and he was really bummed out he didn't save all his cash for me because the other girl he danced with had "no personality" and was "like dancing with a mannequin." ouch for her. But grad student helped my broke ass out. Grad student was so nice, he put a private room on his credit card and we had fun joking around talking, and I danced for him all while doing this talking. Which I wonder sometimes if it is a total turnoff. However, he seemed to adore it as he left with a smile on his face and thanked me for the dance.

OMG

this girl and i would have a lot to talk about, found her thru sk:

i bang the worst dudes

how time flies

It's only been four days and I feel like I haven't written in a century. Tuesday night was another dead night at the club. D. came by, did a couple of dances, gave me this beautiful necklace/watch set from bulova and left. The whole exchange was seriously quick and I had way too much time to sit around. There were barely any customers all night and I danced for one other guy, who had spilled beer all over himself before he came back with me. It was like he dumped it on his head and was dancing around. I don't know how he managed to get the beer in the random spots he got the beer in. He also called me another dancer's name after asking my name 10 friggin times.


Last night was terrible. For the most part. I'll start with some good and end with some good but the middle is very, very bad. Anna from shmittenkitten came over and we had our tech date. She helped me buy my domain name (yes, I am now hostilecityjane.com) and do all kinds of cool little stat things. So CBS, I know you're out there all up in my business. Then Anna left and I began to get ready for my first "real" date with P. As I am walking out the door, my dad calls me. "So A. got arrested for possestion of a hypodermic needle and your brother was using again, your mother found track marks on his arm. Why didn't you tell me?" Me: "Dad, WTF are you talking about last time I checked, [] was clean." Dad: "Don't lie." Me: (sobbing) "DAD WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH HIM WHY CAN'T HE JUST STOP!? WHY CAN'T HE JUST STOP USING HEROIN!?" and on and on all the way to Johnny Brenda's. I get to the door and I'm still crying, my father calls me baby for the first time in 14 years. I talked to my brother today and he didn't mention a thing. It kills me he feels he can't tell me. When I walked into the bar, P. was sitting there, smiling at me. It was so so nice to hear someone new and not at my job tell me I'm beautiful over and over and tell me how awesome I am. And that dear readers is the ebb and flow of life. Destruction, sadness and horrible things followed by kindess and fun and all that good stuff.


[P. if this embarasses you sorry, but it WAS cool.]

fake it till you make it?

well, i can't. not when i'm still blanching every five minutes. how are customers going to want to go back with a feverish, sweaty, green looking stripper?

i convinced one. he was russian and kept asking to insert his fingers into my vagina. no thanks. i spent most of the night sitting in the dressing room, discussing one of the dancer's upcoming wedding, which i am to be a bridesmaid in. a stripper wedding. let's not all get too wild.


i think today, that the amount of "UGHHHHS!" coming out of n. and i is pretty phenomenal. she has to wire her sister money, it took me 2 hours to get the internet back on track, once again missing my cam shift.


i just want to do something fun.


i'm heading over to s's house so her roommate can take mugshot style pictures of me...we're thinking a courtney love theme. then k's gonna come by and he's gonna be the normal dude because k is well, pretty normal looking.

My apologies

Faithful Readers,
I've had a terrible bout of either the stomach flu or food poisoning so I was out of work for a few days. Blogging WILL resume either late tonight or tomorrow afternoon. On a very light note, I've started to (albeit slowly) make plans to return to school. I've even found a club that's pretty close to my old college, so all I need now is to put money away for a car, tuition, board, etc. as well as apply for financial aid, re-apply to the school, etc. Thankfully, I have my former adviser on my side. So although I make it seem so, things aren't always as terrible as they seem.
xoxo,
Jane

retreat

Last night was boring so I'm not going to talk about it.

This morning I got up at 8am to go to planned parenthood as that's when I was told walk in starts. I got there and was reinformed it started at 12. Once I waited around to 12, I was told the services would no longer be free to me. No biggie, I don't have a huge income they won't charge that much. The very rude woman at the counter informed me it would be 163 dollars to which I said no way. To which she said 107. Then she told me I could only have one flimsy little pill case. Usually they hand you three.


I was so discombobulated and the rudeness and tear from my wallet I cried the whole way home. Wtf ladies, you're dealing w delicate issues try to be nice.


So now I am sitting in a cafe near my house then getting my nails done. I called off my cam shift. I don't care about getting fired. P. Is coming over to watch pusherman and gummo. Woo!

Sunday is the new Saturday

I get into work last night, thinking it will be fairly good. It's pretty slow going at first and I am a little concerned. However, once things start rolling, I am the belle of the ball. You want a dance? Yes. You want another? Yes please. Let's do a private room. Ok. No problem. I fake masturbate, rubbing just above my clit. Moaning and groaning. Oh I love grinding on your cock, if i position it just right, it rubs me the right way. MMMMM. So my other personality did great. 16 dances, 1 private room. And, bonus, little to no contact with dickheads. Finally, a nice night.


Today I wake up sore. My neck, my delicate areas, my arms, my back. I oversleep and am late for my cam show, but it was all worth it. I can pay my phone bill, my gas bill. I can buy a few things for myself, I can sock some money away because I'm going back to school.

while i'm here

I'd like to thank Anna Goldfarb over at shmitten kitten and philebrity for her support and promoting of my blog. Even though she never comments, and I don't believe I have ever actually sent messages back and forth with her, she has continually helped me out by letting people know what's going over here at the hostile city jane blog. And for that I adore her. You should probably check out Shmitten Kitten at your absolute earliest convenience because they are whip-smart over there and wicked funny.

PS. Anna, find any guys that want to date a cool, funny, emotionally disturbed stripper? Get at me and I'll send you my pics. haha

Mildly appalling

I think I jinxed myself last night. It was saturday, and I swear the most customers we had at a time was 50, people didn't want to tip...there were no shows and our house fee got cut. It's worrisome, but I have to remember that January and February are the worst two months in the stripper world. I had this really great couple and the woman was very enthusiastic about the dance I gave her and my stage dancing so they helped me out a lot. I was also able to give a rather attractive guy a dance and bum cigarettes off of him all night. I just wonder when things are going to go better, but the entire industry is totally bipolar. I'll bet tonight goes awesome. Go birds! You guys decide how much money I make on sundays and I guess you're digging me today.


Things outside of work get really confusing to me sometimes. What is it that we all want? It seems like everyone wants something different but I'm starting to believe we all just want a warm body that's going to treat us ok. Then there's all the little tiny inconsistencies between two people's needs/wants what have you. Some of us hate lables, some of us are afraid of commitment, and so on and so forth. Some of us don't want to commit because something better might come along (which was always the case when I was being iffy about things), some of us don't want to commit because we don't have room for it in our hearts or minds.

you have now entered economy driven business slump

Friday nights are supposed to be one of the best nights to work during the week, as are Saturdays. I've found however, that for me, they are the worst possible evenings to be spinning around the pole. People that come in those days aren't necessarily financially prepared to be in a strip club and I feel like a dentist the way I'm pulling teeth to get guys on the couch.


To the average American worker, the amount of money I took in last night would be classified under "pretty fuckin good" for 5 hours worth of work. To me, a young lady that gets totally naked for a room full of strangers, I thought it BLEW. Let us all hope that the "snow storm" (which is a joke to me, being from the great north) doesn't scare everyone away from the club.


In the meantime, I'm reading Flesh for Fantasy: Consuming and Producing Exotic Dance. And it's pretty amazing. I'll have a review up here as soon as I finish it.

philly weekly shout out

thanks guys:
philly weekly mention

dancing at...

All my stripper books from amazon.com plus dancing at the blue iguana came today. N. made a comment that it was like watching work. I didn't realize it until watching it for the 87th time. So I have Miss Cody's memoirs and a book on the psychology of exotic dancing from both the customer and the dancer. I'm very excited about reading the books and I'm watching the movie right now.


Last night was tough. D. came in and was wasted. He dropped a lot of money, but it was a lot of tiring work for me. He's the perfect customer when he's sober, but as soon as he gets some booze in him he starts to freak me out. Heaving breathing in my ear, describing all the ways he wants to sexually violate me. Being mean to the other dancers. I had to yell at him several times to be nice to the other girls because while I might get his d-bag sense of humor, the other girls do not. So I put up with it from 7-12 then asked him for cab fare home because I was "tired".


I did something to my knee. When I'm onstage, doing my floor work, or standing up making my ass clap, I'll suddenly get a searing pain in my knee. I'm a bit concerned that i tore something. I'm going to ride it out for another week and see what happens. I do not want to sit in the city clinic for another 8 hours with a bunch of sick little kids.


Also, my new year's resolution is going very well. Emotional hell has been minimized and numbed by flowers, movies, writing and riding the fucking el and a trolley all the way out to west philly suburbs to hang with a pretty cool dude. Things could go either way, but at this point, I think I'm more equipped to deal with everything. Time wounds all heals?

emptiness

The club was absolutely empty tonight. The most customers we had all night was approx. ten. It was so boring the only story I have to share is someone telling me that handjobs at wishy-washes are legal as long as the girl ONLY gives a handjob and keeps both of her feet on the floor. It is considered a form of massage and stress relief. Go figure.


I got the crazy c batteries for my new vibrator, which is actually like a fucking machine. The part that's shaped like a dick goes in and out while the balls vibrate. I'm kind of intimidated, but I am willing to experiment. :)

this blows

Until my router figures it's shit out, I will be blogging from my goddamn sidekick. Which makes me want to punch someone.


The club was pretty chill tonight. A lot of eagles revelers throwing lots of money onto the stage at me. An enormous amount of police officers. One flashed me his badge and then asked how much to touch my tits. W.t.f!? You're a cop and no my titties are priceless. These god given 34ds are free to the men I adore outside the club but fuck you duuuuude.


People like it when I smile. They like it a lot. So I'm trying much harder at work to smile and be upbeat even if I'm bummed the fuck out. Ok my thumbs are cramped. Xoxo

sleep is your friend

When people ask me how I can be so busy, yet be home whenever I am not at work, it's hard to explain. I cam, I write this, I correspond with readers and other dancers that blog. I'm tired a lot because I can't sleep as late as I used to because of the cam job. I need a manicure, I need a pedicure, I need to go see todd again. I need time to myself. I bought two books about stripping, dancing at the blue iguana and the dreamers on dvd, which I am quite pleased with. Also a new yakpak bag. I needed a new one for winter. The unicorns weren't cutting it for winter.


So back to work, tonight sucked ass. I went up to probably 20 guys before giving up. My friend Nikki came in with her friend Ivan and they got a private room. The only room open was the VIP bachelor party room so me and the girls got to play on the pole in there, and I tried to teach them how to make their asses clap. It was pretty fun. I gave Nikki a back massage, I have to remember to send her a message about going to see todd. Her back is worse than mine after her car accident.


tomorrow is sunday, one of the days I actually enjoy working, and I'm pretty psyched for it. Eagles jerseys and middle aged blue collar men galore. Whoopee!

"let go of the steering wheel"

the title is taken from a comment to my last post. i pray to the deities every day to let me just fucking let go of the steering wheel but i am way too fearful, far too worrisome and just too goddamn stubborn. have you ever had that tension headache that just creeps through your entire head until the whole thing is absolutely BANGING and not even closing your eyes helps? Well, that's what I'm feeling right now.


Tonight was terrible cash-wise. Part of the problem was that I spent 45 minutes in the back getting my hair cut. Its (it's? will someone please fucking correct my grammar I've been having a lot of problems with it lately) funny, the strip club has so far doubled as a hair salon and a piercing shop for me. The hair looks great by the way. Our hair mistress gave me a nice choppy backwards mullet kinda thing that I'm in love with.


Some of the guys that came in tonight were fun and were able to make jokes about my injured wrist, and people actually got dances with me (5, not a lot but still) despite it looking like i slit one wrist then changed my mind. There was a really great guy that had just come back from Iraq who was shy but got a dance with me anyway. I just want people to be comfortable, and happy and enjoy themselves when I am entertaining them. I really want to just be able to do that for the people that come in there. I try so hard to make it possible and when I've succeeded it makes my night much better. When the army guy gently put his hand around my waist and smiled and held a conversation with me after our dance it made me happy. Hopefully I made him comfortable, happy, etc. It seemed so.


After work, S. picked me up...we went to the diner and listened to this song that has my real name in it and i sat and wept in her arms. Grieving a relationship feels worse than grieving a passed on loved one...that person still exists, they just simply do not love you any more despite how hard you try to win affections and love and caring back. I wanted that new years kiss so badly it made my heart hurt and when I didn't get it I felt like my heart got ripped out and stomped all over with dirty icky doc martens. So I didn't want to put it back in my chest, but I had to. I'm too full of love for the human race, for my friends and for K. I can't leave that heart on the ground or else it would be a complete waste to myself and those around me. So what if my heart bleeds every day for stupid reasons. At least I still have it, at least it reminds me that I also have a soul after all these indignities are done to me.

new year's resolution

"do you know what love is? a marketing ploy."

resolution: build a bridge and get the fuck over it.

better off alone to do the job i do.