@bchad… I would say a minority have implants. Of course all I hear is “oh, don’t ever get fake boobs, I hate that” but that is a convenient thing to say the the woman who does not have them! So I would say the pressure leans toward NOT getting them! Actually, that comment kinda ticks me off. I think if a woman wants to embody the aesthetic of a curvy bust or she is uncomfortable after nursing wrecked the rack, then go for it! Whether or not a man likes it is irrevelvant. Bottom line, you make the most money when you like what you look like, so she should follow her own preference.
@thommo…I wonder if I have actually met some AFers in the past and didn’t even know it! If any of you are ever being entertained in the area and see a woman with bangs reading The Economist, come up and say the secret password (hacksaw), and I will be a fine hostess … and in regards to the other thing… just no… just noand walk away becasue they are about to spend zero dollars.
@everyone… here is my public service announcement. If you don’t know this, dancers are private contractors who pay to work. We are not paid by the club… more like we pay rent to use the facility. Always make an effort to tip… ok
and finally @ iheartiheart… how many gentleman’s clubs have you been kicked out of?
Ive always felt rather uncomfortable at a strip club, but this is very insightful. I get the appeal to go with like a group of friends have some drinks look at some girls and give out a little cash, I just dont get the appeal to blow like hundreds. I knew a guy would spend crazy money a strip club and i dont get it. To each their own. Good on you KMD for making some cash and living your own lifestyle!
I have no questions for the lady because I’m a strip club veteran, but I do have a mildly fun story. Saint Paul has exactly 1 strip club within the city limits. It’s called “The Lamplighter” and is a wonderful dive bar that just happens to have fully nude single moms and middle aged women who used to be single moms but are now empty nesters and occasionally a pregnant women or two. They also have a taco buffet at lunch time, and canned beer 2 for $5 every day of the week. I can’t speak to the exact reason why, but the edge of the stage has floor to ceiling plexiglass separating the women from sniffers row. I’m guessing it’s a safety thing, sort of like at gas stations in shady neighborhoods, but there is a rumor that the glass wall creates a separate address from the bar and so the ladies can smoke in the back even though indoor smoking is banned in bars. Regardless, there is a wall and you need to pass money through a slot. A very drunk friend of mine was forcefully ejected from the bar for sliding about $4 worth of pennies through the slot over the course of 20 minutes or so.
Also, I was in there one time when a woman walked in the front door, went to the bathroom, disrobed, and began trying to work the room for dances. She was built more or less like Vince Wilfork. The bartender gave her $20 to leave.
Thanks, I think I read some article or something once about a stripper’s life and she was talking about how she started as a waitress and felt pressure to dance and then felt pressure to strip and then felt pressure to buy new breasts and presumably felt pressure to contract for sex. Each step was a kind of seduction that she said she’d never cross but eventually did. I don’t think her conclusion was that it was all bad choices, but it certainly wasn’t where she had planned to be in life.
The article spent some time on the pressure to get surgical enhancements because that was a big expense and major invasiveness that one couldn’t undo just by stopping, and she was saying how her friends started getting them one by one so it no longer seemed like a bizzare thing, and eventually she did it. Apparently, there was an effect on who she got attention from and resulting income, but I forget how large the change was.
I just wondered if that lined up with other people’s experiences, or if it was just unique to the story there. My guess is that it varies, but by how much, I don’t know.
I would imagine that one does well if one’s happy about oneself, but the causality probably goes both ways - one is more likely to be happy about oneself if one is doing well. I’d think that the industry makes enormous demads on one’s mental capacity to compartmentalize your life and emotional states: people who can’t do that are probably torn apart pretty quickly and end up like the people BS was talking about.
I’d be curious how you would break down the clientele, i.e. how srippers might classify or group the types of patrons who go strip joints. (i.e. college guys, bachelor parties, business men after work, guys trying to escape their wives, guys going out with their wives or gfs, misc creeps, etc.). What are the groupings you generally talk about amongst yourselves, which ones pay best, which ones are the creepiest, which ones are fun, why and when would you go to one vs the other, etc…
I’ve been to strip joints a few times over my life - it’s not really my thing, but it was an interesting diversion once in a while.
And yeah, I had to laugh when I heard the word “peelers”, an almost unique Canadianism. After college, my dad thought I might be bored visiting him after he moved to Nanaimo, so he arranged for the neighbor’s son to come show me around town. The son’s recommendation: “we could go walk by the freezing cold docks, or check out some ‘peeler joints.’” “What’s a peeler joint?” I asked… He said: “It’s where the peelers are!!” It took me a moment to realize that peeler=stripper.
Like, Delilah’s = Harvard? (I just mention it, because that is precisely the only strip club I know in Philadelphia. I somehow made it onto their e-mail list a while back. I have no idea why.)
If you read my note, The Lamplighter is the answer you’re looking for.
There used to be another dive bar/strip club over in Minneapolis called “22nd Avenue Station,” referred to as “the deuce deuce” by the locals. It shut down now, but in the summer of 06 I went there after a bunch of 12 PM Twins weekday games. A $6 ticket to watch a game, 3 hours of beer and then a short shot up University Avenue for some c-section scars. Long story short, I had to take a shit at the club. It was a 1 person bathroom, so no stall door. While I was in there, a drunk guy more or less broke the door off the hinges. So there I was, shitting at a strip club, staring out into the bar. If I were capable of shame, I might have felt some right there.
… and in regards to the other thing… just no… just no and walk away becasue they are about to spend zero dollars.