I Was An Exotic Dancer
I remember the exact moment I decided to become an exotic dancer. I was living in Sydney at the time, having just moved there from the Atherton Tablelands two weeks previously. I was one week into being twenty years old and living in a hostel in the middle of the city.
The hostel I was staying at was great for backpackers. Since my travels begun I had stayed in some absolute dives of places, so after I finished eight months of hard graft on the farms and moved to Sydney, I splashed out on somewhere a bit nicer, about $40 a night from what I recall. Big rooms, cleaned every day, friendly people.
It was about that time where I was getting antsy about my savings. Sydney can be a very expensive place when you don't have a job, particularly right in the central. I barely walked down the road without spending $50 on things like food, cigarettes (bad habit, I know) a bit of phone top up...anything. So I booked an appointment for a day class to obtain an RSA (Responsible Service of Alcohol) whichis a certificate needed to legally serve alcohol in the state of New South Wales. I of course had the idea of getting a job behind a bar, as one of my friends did this in Melbourne and had told me countless times how much she enjoyed it. I remember sitting in this course, the day after my birthday, at 9am, so hungover I could barely see six foot infront of my face. I took a seat in the back corner of the room and hoped no one would notice me. The class had around thirty others, all about my age.
I hate these things. It's not like any of us were going to see eachother ever again, but the guy running the course told us we were going to go round and introduce ourselves to eachother, say something about ourselves and why we were doing the course. I hate public speaking, which is funny considering. Anyway, when he came round to me, all I could think of to say, in my hungover state, was "I'm Jessica. I've just finished 8 months of working in a farm up north, and I need a new job." I didn't mean it as a joke, but people laughed. I was a bit embarrassed. I thought it made me look like like I didn't give a **** about the course, which wasn't true. After all, it did cost me $140.
So after I completed the course and obtained the certificate, the plan was to go out looking for a job the very next day. I absolutely HATED giving out resumes, I felt like I was being studied, sized up.. but needs must. I printed off resumes, and wandered all over Darling Harbour and did not give out one single resume. Not one. I don't know why. I sat on a bench and squinted in the sunlight, looking around at all of the lovely bars and I just could not see myself working in any of the places. I didn't want to. So I walked back to the hostel and sat on my bed, beating myself up.
I was sharing the room with seven other people at the time, one being a stunning Swedish girl about my own age. I knew she worked as a waitress at a gentlemans club and earned great money. She asked me how my job hunt went, and was dissapointed when I said that pathetically, I hadn't given out one resume.
She asked me how I would feel about stripping and I was interested straight away. It was something I knew nothing about and we spent ages talking about the club she worked at and what I would have to do. It sounded like fun and exactly the kind of thing I would enjoy. She explained that I should wear the underwear I felt sexiest in, that every girl was different, what type of things I should say to the customer and what things I should never do. For example, never talk to a customer who was already sat with one of the girls.
I put on one of my favourite dresses and got a taxi to the club. As I walked down the steps into the joint, not one security stopped me and I did not once wonder what the hell I was doing. Instead I walked straight up to the bar and asked for the manager, who upon seeing me bounced over and said, "Hey! So, you want a job?"
So began my life as a ********. I went and got waxed, bought a few new pieces of underwear. I decided I wouldn't buy the heels until I had made a decision on whether or not I was going to stay. Now I wear huge heels!
My first night was disastrous. I'll talk about that another time, but I went home at 3am crying. The manager called me the next day and was so friendly I decided to stick at it. He told me that first nights are always difficult and that I had nothing to worry about, earnings wise - he said, you will get guys who will take you all night, don't worry, come back tonight and we'll chat about it.
I've been dancing for almost eight months now, at two different clubs and a few private events for buck parties and so on. I can honestly say that I am extremely happy at the club I am working for at the moment. I recently moved back to Cairns, in QLD, and got a job at a classier club. The management look after you so well, everything is above board, and the most important thing is - the guys treat you like a lady. I know that might sound hard to believe, but it's true.
Money is good, too. It sounds weird, but I refused to quit early on without at least being able to say, Yup, I did it, I made good money. These days I enjoy it for what it is. I get up on stage, I flirt with men, drink champagne at work (only pretend, but still =) ) and striptease for good money. I don't do it for the money, though. I like making men feel happy, and they don't touch me, so I don't feel guilty. I enjoy knowing that he's satisfied (to a point) and liked to watch me dance for him. I want to say the right things to him. Men aren't stupid (unless they're drunk) and I think they can usually tell when a woman is not genuine. I always mean what I say to them, and it's worked pretty well for me. I'm not over the top, but I am truthful. Sometimes I even get off on it, if a customer has a certain something.
I remember one particular customer who I thought was attractive. I spent a while talking with him before dancing for him most of the night. He was mid 30's, dark hair, very hot looking. He was there alone, up in town for a business conference. (He offered the information - I NEVER ask a man what he does for a living - it's not my business, also it wouldn't lead anywhere. It's not like there's any point him returning the question.) He liked me to talk dirty, and because I thought he was hot, I didn't mind. He returned the next night and asked for me. That night I told him that I had found him sexy and that I had played doctor with myself under the bedclothes the previous night. He loved it and again I danced for him all night. I wasn't lying. See - I think you have to pay the right type of compliments. I couldn't have said that to someone I didn't find attractive, he would have seen straight through it. The compliment must match the person.
I never go home with men, in fact outside of work I don't even see men. I'm not in a relationship and I have no plans to be, but if I did meet someone special, I would find another job. Plus I'd probably be able to give them the best lapdance they've ever had! I don't see any negatives with the job at the moment, it hasn't caused me any problems. But that might be because I have no one to answer to at the moment. I would not do this job if I was living at home.
The hostel I was staying at was great for backpackers. Since my travels begun I had stayed in some absolute dives of places, so after I finished eight months of hard graft on the farms and moved to Sydney, I splashed out on somewhere a bit nicer, about $40 a night from what I recall. Big rooms, cleaned every day, friendly people.
It was about that time where I was getting antsy about my savings. Sydney can be a very expensive place when you don't have a job, particularly right in the central. I barely walked down the road without spending $50 on things like food, cigarettes (bad habit, I know) a bit of phone top up...anything. So I booked an appointment for a day class to obtain an RSA (Responsible Service of Alcohol) whichis a certificate needed to legally serve alcohol in the state of New South Wales. I of course had the idea of getting a job behind a bar, as one of my friends did this in Melbourne and had told me countless times how much she enjoyed it. I remember sitting in this course, the day after my birthday, at 9am, so hungover I could barely see six foot infront of my face. I took a seat in the back corner of the room and hoped no one would notice me. The class had around thirty others, all about my age.
I hate these things. It's not like any of us were going to see eachother ever again, but the guy running the course told us we were going to go round and introduce ourselves to eachother, say something about ourselves and why we were doing the course. I hate public speaking, which is funny considering. Anyway, when he came round to me, all I could think of to say, in my hungover state, was "I'm Jessica. I've just finished 8 months of working in a farm up north, and I need a new job." I didn't mean it as a joke, but people laughed. I was a bit embarrassed. I thought it made me look like like I didn't give a **** about the course, which wasn't true. After all, it did cost me $140.
So after I completed the course and obtained the certificate, the plan was to go out looking for a job the very next day. I absolutely HATED giving out resumes, I felt like I was being studied, sized up.. but needs must. I printed off resumes, and wandered all over Darling Harbour and did not give out one single resume. Not one. I don't know why. I sat on a bench and squinted in the sunlight, looking around at all of the lovely bars and I just could not see myself working in any of the places. I didn't want to. So I walked back to the hostel and sat on my bed, beating myself up.
I was sharing the room with seven other people at the time, one being a stunning Swedish girl about my own age. I knew she worked as a waitress at a gentlemans club and earned great money. She asked me how my job hunt went, and was dissapointed when I said that pathetically, I hadn't given out one resume.
She asked me how I would feel about stripping and I was interested straight away. It was something I knew nothing about and we spent ages talking about the club she worked at and what I would have to do. It sounded like fun and exactly the kind of thing I would enjoy. She explained that I should wear the underwear I felt sexiest in, that every girl was different, what type of things I should say to the customer and what things I should never do. For example, never talk to a customer who was already sat with one of the girls.
I put on one of my favourite dresses and got a taxi to the club. As I walked down the steps into the joint, not one security stopped me and I did not once wonder what the hell I was doing. Instead I walked straight up to the bar and asked for the manager, who upon seeing me bounced over and said, "Hey! So, you want a job?"
So began my life as a ********. I went and got waxed, bought a few new pieces of underwear. I decided I wouldn't buy the heels until I had made a decision on whether or not I was going to stay. Now I wear huge heels!
My first night was disastrous. I'll talk about that another time, but I went home at 3am crying. The manager called me the next day and was so friendly I decided to stick at it. He told me that first nights are always difficult and that I had nothing to worry about, earnings wise - he said, you will get guys who will take you all night, don't worry, come back tonight and we'll chat about it.
I've been dancing for almost eight months now, at two different clubs and a few private events for buck parties and so on. I can honestly say that I am extremely happy at the club I am working for at the moment. I recently moved back to Cairns, in QLD, and got a job at a classier club. The management look after you so well, everything is above board, and the most important thing is - the guys treat you like a lady. I know that might sound hard to believe, but it's true.
Money is good, too. It sounds weird, but I refused to quit early on without at least being able to say, Yup, I did it, I made good money. These days I enjoy it for what it is. I get up on stage, I flirt with men, drink champagne at work (only pretend, but still =) ) and striptease for good money. I don't do it for the money, though. I like making men feel happy, and they don't touch me, so I don't feel guilty. I enjoy knowing that he's satisfied (to a point) and liked to watch me dance for him. I want to say the right things to him. Men aren't stupid (unless they're drunk) and I think they can usually tell when a woman is not genuine. I always mean what I say to them, and it's worked pretty well for me. I'm not over the top, but I am truthful. Sometimes I even get off on it, if a customer has a certain something.
I remember one particular customer who I thought was attractive. I spent a while talking with him before dancing for him most of the night. He was mid 30's, dark hair, very hot looking. He was there alone, up in town for a business conference. (He offered the information - I NEVER ask a man what he does for a living - it's not my business, also it wouldn't lead anywhere. It's not like there's any point him returning the question.) He liked me to talk dirty, and because I thought he was hot, I didn't mind. He returned the next night and asked for me. That night I told him that I had found him sexy and that I had played doctor with myself under the bedclothes the previous night. He loved it and again I danced for him all night. I wasn't lying. See - I think you have to pay the right type of compliments. I couldn't have said that to someone I didn't find attractive, he would have seen straight through it. The compliment must match the person.
I never go home with men, in fact outside of work I don't even see men. I'm not in a relationship and I have no plans to be, but if I did meet someone special, I would find another job. Plus I'd probably be able to give them the best lapdance they've ever had! I don't see any negatives with the job at the moment, it hasn't caused me any problems. But that might be because I have no one to answer to at the moment. I would not do this job if I was living at home.
By:
JessicaLane
Age:
18-21
,
Female
