#TrueStory: I once worked at a strip club

hahaha ... don't freak out mom and dad, it was one shift as a cocktail waitress ...but yeah, you guys might not want to read this one anyway. It might get weird. Well, let's be honest, isn't this already weird?? k. Love you - but bye. 

HIT IT TOMMY!!!

So, I've lived in LA for 7 years, and operated as a professional hustler for all seven of those years. Dude, we all work a bajillion jobs and just do whatever it takes to get the job done.

It was late 2007, early 2008 - I was working at LiveVideo as a lifecaster on their site, but their payroll sucked. Literally, one would think at that time working for the founder of Myspace and launching his start up would give you a certain bit of cred and a certain bit of ... something ... but oh no, even then, LV could not pay their bills. I don't care what happened exactly, that was neither here nor there - bottom line, I still had to pay rent - all $1200 of it.

To offset the paychecks that may or may not have arrived, I worked at a kosher restaurant in Beverly Hills. Was a great, great, great job - talk about learning the ins and outs of how to deal with people. There is nothing like dealing with orthodox Jewish men that will just straighten every hair on your head. Dude, in some sects I can't even shake men's hands upon introduction. Totally bat shit, but totally happened. I just respected all people, all around and just dealt with whatever was given to me.

Well, one day one of the servers came in saying that she just got this job and it was paying super well. I said, rad! Congrats! What and where? It's a strip club, she says. Okayyyyy .... my friend Staz is super hot, but straight up - a strip club? No thanks!!! Not my thing - dude, totes not mad at it, but no bueno. 

No, she says - as a cocktail waitress.

My interest peaked .... wait, how much are we talking here .... couple hundred a shift to serve sodas and flirt with the customers. DONE!!!!!!!!! Dude, a couple hundred a shift? I was LUUUCKKKYYY if I made a hundred a shift at the Milk and Honey. My rent was almost $1,200 a month. I did not give a flying fuck if it meant I had to serve sodas and bat my eyes, as long as I wasn't having sex for money, or taking my clothes off - I could deal.

I ask her if they're hiring any more servers, and she goes TOTALLY!!! Hit them up!!!!

I go home, google Foreplay Los Angles, and alas - it pops up on yelp!

I figure calling them is going to be lame ... I'm going to grab my resume, my biggest push up bra, and strut my shit. Dude, if I could work a few shifts at the Milk and Honey, while adding in even just one night a week at the strip club to make that much extra ... my life would be so bueno and I wouldn't have to freak out about paychecks coming or not.

I walk in at around 4pm in the afternoon - before the rush, and ask to speak to the owner. Mind you, I didn't just ASKKKK to speak to the owner, I pulled my best Marilyn and not only sashayed in the door, but flirted so hardcore with the door guy, and in my best breathless voice ..... ::insert breathless-ness:: excuse me, (insert tits in face, while playfully stroking my long black hair) are you guys hiring any servers?

The door guy repositions, while stuttering ... uh, why yes. Yes, we are.

I smile.

Great ... is there, uh, anyone here I can talk to?

Right this way.

BINNNNNGGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

He walks me in, and takes me to this room on the left that was away from the actual club.

He opens the door, excuse me XXXXXXX this woman is wondering if we are hiring, and I think you need to see her. I was standing right outside, but I could hear his smile from 20 feet away .... well, send her in, he says.

I walk in and sit down with my legs crossed. Mind you, I am 5'7 but I am a very leggy human being. If I was going to take these ladies out to play, this was just going to happen ... and right now, this skirt was riding my bum so hardcore it wasn't even funny.

HI!!!!! My name is Jen I say with enthusiasm.

Hi ... my name is XXXXXXX. How can I help you? 

Well, I said, my friend Staz works here and speaks very highly of you all. I was wondering if you all had anymore shifts available.

He readjusts - well, what kind of ... shift are you looking for?

Cocktail waitress.

His eyes move down my body implying everything other than serving diet cokes .... um, have you ever considered ...

I interrupt. Oh, no thank you, but bless your heart. I knew where he was going, he knew I knew where he was going ... and that was not going to happen. I want the couple hundred bucks a shift for just a few hours, and I want to move on with my life. But yes, in this moment, I will bat my eyes at you til the cows come home. And PS. if you think I am going to bone you to get this job, I will make you so sorry you ....

You're hired, he says.

GREAT, I say with joy.

First though, you have to pass the test with the girls.

The girls?

Yes, the strippers. If they like you, then I will keep you. If they don't then I'm sorry.

He asks me to come back tomorrow to start training.

You won't regret this, I say.

Well, let's see what the girls think - he muttered. 

I get back to the apartment and don't even tell a single soul what I am doing. As is, my friends were ENTIRELY convinced that being a cam girl at an internet start up meant I did porn - this was going to set it over the top. big time.

The next afternoon, I go down to my car and notice my tire was slashed. No like literally ... my old building used to have crazy vandalism problems .... it was now apparently my turn to get fucked with.

FUUUUUCCKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! I don't know how to change a tire, and AAA will take an hour - I can't be late. I notice the car behind me was there, it belonged to a dude I was totally boning. (Bless his heart, btw. Super super super sweet guy, and like crazy retarded hot - but yeah, it was just a friends with benefits. I couldn't ever date someone that lived in my building.)

Do I want boy that I bone to know that I am starting to train as a cocktail waitress at a strip club? Is that weird? I feel like that's weird ... and awkward. I look back at the car ...

FUUUCCKKKKKKK!!!! Why now ... why now ... why now?

I grab my cell phone and give him a call.

Hey dude, it's Jen. Huge huge huge favor to ask you ...

Less than 5 minutes later he comes downstairs to the garage.

You. Are. My. Hero. I scream as I jump into his arms. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Not a problem, where am I taking you?

To the westside. I'm training as a server at this club.

Cool, which one?

Ugh. Do I tell him? Do I not? Wait, how can I not - he's about to drop me off there. Of COURSE he will know.

Well, it's a strip club - called 4play.

STFU!!!! You are going to be a stripper?

No ... COCKTAIL server. Of course it doesn't help that the word cock is in that sentence, but moving on ...

Wow. Okay - this is hot.

I laugh and explain that I needed an extra shift, and could use the money as checks from the internet company I was working for were spotty at best, and I didn't want to lose my apartment.

I get it. Just kinda funny, you have to see it from my perspective. Nice dress, btw.

Thank you - I was in a super slutty little black dress as was the attire for work.

He drops me off at the club, and then asks when I am going to be done.

Wait, you want to pick me up too?

OF COURSE! he says. I don't want to miss this story for the world.

HAHAHAAHAHA, jerk! Fine! I get done at 11.

Great - I'll see you right here then.

I take a deep breath, adjust my little bits of ladyness - and walk in the club.

I had been to strip clubs before, a whole bunch of 'em ... and this one wasn't bad. It was pretty big actually. There was an upstairs area, and all these back rooms. I had no idea how many servers were on each shift, but wow - at peak hours this place must be poppin.

I walk over to the bar - which btw, just served sodas .... clearly. And ask where my duderino was. She said, oh - are you here for server training?

Yep!

Ah. Okay, my name is XXXXXX I'm going to be training you.

Great! Nice to meet you.

The place at the time was entirely dead. There was a girl dancing on stage - but the only guy that was there was sitting at the bar and paid no attention. 

Dude, BOOBS!!! REALLY??? Okay ... okay ... 

She gave me a quick run down of things. That they don't serve alcohol, but they serve food.

She walked me around to each table and we started counting their numbers (every table at a restaurant is numbered so you know what goes where, and its entered in the computer). She then turned back to me and asked me to tell her all of the numbers she just said ... I immediately replied back like a parrot. She was pleased. 

We walk through the kitchen - and she explains to me where all of everything was kept. That place totally gave me the heeby jeebs. I've been in many many kitchens in my life, and working as a server dealing with the kitchen staff in general is a sexual thing ... such pervs ... but this one, there were so many microwaves, and tupperwear things. I don't know, I'm not calling anyone out - but that was NOT a kitchen. 

I shrug it off and think well, one less thing to worry about! 

We keep walking, and she shows me the back locker area where all of the girls prep for stage, and keep their things. It's your responsibility to clean all of the mirrors before each shift back here, she says. 

Not a problem! I grab some windex and a paper towel and go to town. 

Ohhhhh schmick mordy, those were a lot of mirrors. Walls of 'em. Wow. Just hustle, Jen. Just shut up and do it - I thought. 

20 minutes later I finish the locker area - and walk out to the bar. 

The trainer stops me and says, the stage too. 

I immediately tense up. Wait, the stage? You want me to go on the stage? I of course didn't say anything like that, what actually escaped my mouth was, sure! right away - as I turned back around and headed towards the stage. 

Oh good lord, this is happening. 

No one was there, I don't know why it bothered me so much - but I had just never ... EVER ... seen a strip club from this angle before. 

I started to windex the mirrors, and my eyes caught my reflection. Here I was at a strip club, on stage, lookin like a hussy in a little black dress. Really Jen ... Really? What are you doing with your life? This ... no bueno. I smacked my voice of reason and said, a couple hundred a shift. A couple hundred EACH shift. Keep going. 

I finish the mirrors on stage, and then the owner operated peanut gallery of a trainer piped up and said, oh sweetie the poles too! 

See, the girls wipe after themselves but someone has to eventually take actual disinfectant to the poles to make sure they're clean. 

OOOOOMMMMMMMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG this is happening. 

Dude, I felt so awkward on that stage. I did not own any minute of anything. I felt like in a situation like that I would have made the best of it, and cracked some jokes - nope. nada. I didn't like it ... at all. 

I finished wiping the poles down, and walked back over to the bar. Great job, she says! We've still got some time before the rush comes in. 

It was an incredibly relaxed atmosphere - I was allowed to sit down, flirt with guests (when there were ones there). A few more girls started to trinkle in. Introductions were had, but all I got from the girls were straight up daggers. They did NOT like me. I don't know if they thought I wanted to strip, or what - but I was terribly confused. Girl, I totally respect you for what you do, but no, it's not for me. Of course I couldn't say that - but I just reiterated how nice their boob jobs were, and I kept praying for puberty to hit one of those days, or I'd be calling them for their doctor's number. 

Self deprecation ... yes ... gets 'em everytime! 

They instead looked confused. I think I lost them at puberty. 

Anyway ... 

The night drew on, not a lot of people came in - but I LOOOVVEEEDDDD the music! Way better than listening to Sinatra as was all that ever played at the Milk and Honey. Ugh. Amazing. 

I really started to get into it at this point. I was loosening up a bit - and after a few orders being taken and dropped off without a hitch, I thought, hey! I can do this!!!! 

The trainer calls me over. She slaps a 20 down on the counter and says good night! 

Wait, what? 

You're great, but the girls don't like you and say you're taking away from their customer base. 

What does that mean? 

What do you think it means, sweetie? Here's your money. If you want to consider another profession, lemme know. But as a server, you're done. (Apparently a few too many of the girls had gone up to the customers and asked if they could give them a lap dance, and they instead asked how much for one from me? Very much a no no buenoooo.)

Wow - at this point I had never not gotten a job I wanted. And dude, I was JUSSTTT getting the hang of it. Realizing though that this was an arguement I was going to lose - I cut my losses, texted my friend, and about a half hour later got picked up. 

He pulls up. 

How'd it go? he asks

I'm not cut out for this industry apparently. 

Laughing, he goes, I could have told you that. Back to web cam porn? 

#FML