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I was 38 years old the first time I ever stepped foot in a "Strip Club". Several life factors contributed to that first club visit. Just suffice it to say that I was not in a very good place in my journey. I recall watching the girls onstage and thinking, "Hell, I can do that." I must have had a pair at the time because two days later I put on my sexiest dress, walked into that club and told the manager I wanted to be a dancer.
I didn't have a "stage name", hadn't put any thought into it. So, when he asked I just said, "Who do I look like?" He looked me over a minute and thoughtfully said, "Sapphire. Yeah, you're a Sapphire." Over the next few months I depersonalized. I just crawled over into a corner and Sapphire lived my life for me. The 38 year old mother and wife with no sexuality was gone and this hot, sassy, lil' thing emerged to get us both through to the other side. I miss her.
Sapphire quickly developed a reputation for being a sensuous dancer, not a "hoe" dancer. She was sweet but sometimes you could just see the little devil jumping up and down in her eyes.
She gave the men a good dance for their money and that was all she was interested in. She didn't want anyone to pay her bills, take her on trips, buy her a boob job or anything else...just their twentys in her t-bar. Some of the other girls resented her, some ignored her, some befriended her.
She quit the first club she danced in when one day the whole day shift was fined twenty dollars after the bartender claimed to have smelled weed in the dressing room. I don't know where the girl got her spunk but that day she jumped square in the faces of three new black dancers from a club up the street who had only been there three days. She refused to pay the fine, walked out and never went back. Two days later she was dancing in the upscale "Gentleman's Club", where a girl actually had to audition. With two month's experience, she'd made it into the second classiest club in town. Not bad. (And no, this was not in Texas.)
Eating a dancer's diet, tanning, working out, and practice, practice, practice filled Sapphire's days. Mornings were the best time of the day, while the club was empty. Makeup, wardrobe and set planning forced the mind to work while warming up onstage before a dark, empty club cleared it.
There is nothing more terrifying than walking out on that stage for the first time and nothing more empowering than going out to dance what you know is a great set. The DJ starts your music as you hurry past the girl who danced before you on the stairs. One deep breath and you hear your indroduction...it's time to turn it on.
You walk out on stage, stare them all down and let the music take over. For the next eight minutes you disappear into the dance and the next thing you know you are passing the next girl to dance on the stairs on your way back to the dressing room.
It was Pole-therapy. For Sapphire and for me.
6/21/2006 9:21 am
fantastic story give u credit for getting thru it.|