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Chapter 22: Money, Money, Money, Part 1
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Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 23: Money, Money, Money, Part 2
"Keep up the good work," a man dressed in blue jeans and cowboy boots told me, slipping a five into my t-back as I walked past. From my time onstage, I had a whole hula skirt of 1s, 5s, and even a stray 10."Thanks, baby," I replied. "Do you have anyone right now?" He took a sip of his whiskey. "I do, indeed, handsome." My boobs glistened with just the right amount of sweat. "Well, when you're finished, stop by. I'll be waiting.""Then I won't be long," I purred. I drank the intoxication of literally having a queue of men waiting for me to dance for them and get paid for it. The first time I took home $400 in a single day was surreal. I had to count it again in the apartment, just to make sure it was real. $500 almost made my hands shake. I loved the silky texture of legal tender slip through my fingers, as my teller-muscles quickly and effortlessly counted a stack of 20s.Now, it wasn't as though I were taking home that amount every single time I went to the club; I definit
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 24: Boundaries Crumbling
"It's Clifford!""Hey, look, it's Clifford!" A dad pointed while his three-year-old stared off into space."Don't you want to take a picture with Clifford, the Big Red Dog?" My co-worker asked a child fiercely clutching his mother's legs.As Clifford the Big Red Dog, I had a perpetual grin stretched across my face, but inside the suit, I squinted as sweat poured into my eyes. Even though it was only 70 degrees out, I essentially wore a giant jumpsuit, plus an enormous, heavy head on my shoulders. I felt sweat gather under my arms and along my back. I had two small eyeholes that were just tiny dots, set so far above my eyesight, that I may as well have been blind. Every so often, I caught a glimpse of a child's shrieking face or a parent's shin, or ceiling of the small tent I was in. The city was holding its annual farmers market, but everyone participated, even the library. On the right side of the tent, city hall handed out brochures about the upcoming election. A few tents down,
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 25: Slowly Staring to Unravel
My phone buzzed. Rose, it's Gary, read the text. Three little bubbles appeared. Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor, read the next. I waited for more bubbles. I need a car, because I need some way to get around to different gigs. I've been looking at cars on Craigslist, and I think I found one that could work. Ok, where do I figure into this? I wondered. Can you lend me the money to buy it? I swear I'll pay you back. The title will be in your name and everything. I thought about it for a bit. How much? I responded.Eight hundred. I thought about my Crown Royal bag, full of dancing cash. I could make that up in a week, I thought. Sure, I sent. The next week, I went with him to pick up some piece of junk car that had approximately 800,000 miles on it and an engine that coughed its way through existence. "Thank you so much," said Gary. "You're really helping me out. I promise I'll pay you back week by week."I never heard from Gary again. *A
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 26: White and Green, Part 1
It was one of those unbearably slow days. The kind of day where maybe ten men in total had entered the club the entire day. The kind of day where the dancers were taking naps in club chairs and waitresses were lounging and gossiping for hours. I wandered from the upstairs bar to the downstairs seating area again and again, my ankles screaming to sit down. "Hi handsome, are you doing all right?" I asked a guy with the glazed expression of a dead fish."I'm just here for a beer," he responded. My face heated and my pride stung at the rejection."Just let me know if you need anything."Come on, just give me one dance, I pleaded inwardly. Don't let me go home with just sixty bucks. Slow days were a special sort of torture. I plopped down at the upstairs bar and tried to not look as bored as I felt. Chanel was chatting with the bartender. Indica was there too; I hadn't really ever spoken to her, except for the occasional hello or compliment her ass tattoo of a marijuana leaf. C
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 27: Green and White, Part 2
Now, I had never tried cocaine before in my life. If it doesn't come from the earth, I'm not going to put it in my body. But there was no mistaking the pure white powder in a tiny dime-bag that everyone was sniffing out of. I hadn't even seen enough movies to know what to pretend what to do. I didn't want to turn it down and ruin the vibe of the party, but I sure as hell didn't want to be hopped up on coke when I came home that night (much less try to drive). Gold Earring Guy had a small amount balanced on a long pinky nail extended out to me. I looked around, hoping that no one would see what seemed so obvious what we were doing. Luckily, a waitress was walking over, and I motioned for him to go ahead and hit it, since his back was to the waitress and she wouldn't be able to see. Nancy Regan never taught how to "Just say no," when you're a stripper trying to hit the jackpot on a slow day, and the only way to do that is to play along. Chanel must have seen the slightly panicked loo
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 28: How Much Honesty is Worth, Part 1
Never say that there is no honor among thieves. Or at least, no honor among strippers. And don't think just because a strip club is a den of sin, the modern-day pirates' tavern, or Gomorrah's gambling house, that moral quandaries do not arise. What I did at Cabaret Royale that day was either one of the best decisions I made during my time as a dancer or one of the most absurd. It started off like any other day; I had already made about 200 bucks and it was only mid-day. The crowd was a bit sparse, but I had chanced upon a well-to-do customer. He came in wearing a simple outfit of jeans, a long-sleeved tee, and a windbreaker. He was short, about 5'4," with brown hair and brownish skin. His face had a vaguely "Asian" look, and I later learned he was Philippino. You would have never known he was loaded. However, he didn't have the air of someone stingy, like they were hoarding all their money. He was kind, generous, and simply a quietly humble guy. He came in originally looking for on
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 29: How Much Honesty is Worth, Part 2
They were hundreds. He hadn't given me ten twenty-dollar bills; he had given me hundreds. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck…A thousand dollars was one month's rent. A thousand dollars was 1/30th of my undergraduate loans. A thousand dollars was food and bills for an entire month. One thousand reasons to say nothing and walk back upstairs and revel in the biggest payday of my life. You're in the hustling game now, and this is what it means to hustle, whispered evil Ariel.I started to walk up the stairs to the dressing room. I had every intention to put it immediately in my wallet under lock and key in my locker.He probably won't even notice it's gone. He probably has so much money and cash that he won't even notice the difference. Every single other person in here would just take the money and not say a word. God, evil Ariel sounded so sexy. I gave a deep inward groan, because I knew what I had to do. Not today, bitch, I retorted. "Hey Cynthia!" I rushed back down the steps and over to
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 30: Nightmares
Nolan was giving it to me hard, and all I could think about was the rent that was due the next morning, the beige color of the walls, and the pudge on Nolan's stomach. He started sucking on my nipples, and I got that vague, sickly feeling again. It didn't excite me, didn't thrill me, but made me feel as though my breast were slightly detached from my body. I should really change the lightbulbs in the bathroom soon.My body went through the motions of sex, my mouth made all the right sex sounds, and I contorted my face just enough to let Nolan think that I was enjoying it. He kissed my neck, and I moaned, but I didn't feel the heat, didn't feel the goosebumps raise, didn't sense the flutter in my stomach nor groin. He flipped me over to do it doggy-style, and I was grateful that he no longer saw my face. It was easier to hide. Oops, Stripper Mode again.I wondered if I were insane, if my mind had somehow crossed the line, or was tiptoeing around the edge somewhere. This mome
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