So I was talking to a friend i've had for a long time about this blog, and she brought up that it was great, and I know i've writtent this a hundred timed "i'm coming back to writing I promise" well...I have once again learned that promises are worth the paper they are written on. Let me tell you I can never find a pen. So she recommeded using this like a journal which i have wanted to do for a long time. However, truth be told, there are a few people in who still check in on social media to let me know that they are around that I don't really want knowing all the details of my life. At the same time can I live in fear forever? I mean i can, but the world is missing out on my voice and my potenial vibrator reviews. Do you all remember when i was going to do that? Anyway...lets dive in...
So tonight, i was having a really hard time motivating myself to go to the club, lately it's been really easy for me to find the negative in myself. The gives no fucks, take action ask questions later Red has been...uhhhh...well im not sure, but she's around but not really with the same tenacity as before. Anyway I arrive at work, great, sure, fine, fun. It's so nice to see everyone as it always is, this job brings me so much joy, and confidence. I walked in and was told right away how gorgeous i was from the other girls. I miss all of them in my square bear life. Thank the stripper gods one of my good friends i work with is ex-stripper makes the whole thing easier...So I start to make my rounds, and i'ts not great. The clubs in 2024 are dead af...like fr fr. Which is fine, this industry is all ebbs and flows. Someday i will write a program that makes it easier for girls to track the type of guys they attrack and build thenselves a profile to look out for on slow nights.
I walked up to this group of guys on stage left, normally i don't fuck with dudes who sit there they always tell me no. I don't know why it's just what they do. These boys i walk up to, and crouch down like gollum (which means i'm really flexible i would like to see any of you do this for an extended period of time). It turns out the boy i start to talk to is french. WOW such fate. My french is terrible but i have a 275 day streak on duolingo. So I try to spark a conversation this this man which starts with "can you tell me how to say...I want you to lick my balls in french". let me just say I think if i wan to learn french in the way I want to speak it I need to watch more adult films and tv and what not. Beacause boy howdy did i learn how to say many things. Do i remember them "putain non" but did this boy whisper some things he didn't think were okay to say in public in my ear. ABSOLUTELY! I had a great time, sometimes lately it feels like it always has. That I'm just along for the experiance and the ride.
That being said I'm going to TRY, TRY, TRy to write more, but as it's been brought to my attention lately, i'm horrible at follow through, so i guess lets just stick around at find out.
For all the keyboard junkies, hackers, programmers, software engineers, architects etc...out their following my saga...I was going to school, then that school killed their nights and weekends program, and their self study. So now i've started somewhere else, and i've started from the beginning. i know i should put some fancy html in here, but that's never been the vibe of this blog. Except for that one time i put a cassette tape in the middle of the page that was MIND BLOWINGLY BRILLIANT. But stick around, i promise you as per usual I will make coding my bitch.
A stripper named red...all well most of the misadventures, mishapes, mistakes, of being a stripper. All the good things too. Usually funny. Mostly entertaining. Highly opinionated. Never on time.
Showing posts with label seeingredinseattle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seeingredinseattle. Show all posts
Sunday, April 21, 2024
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Luck, superstitions, getting what you want, and strippers
One of the scariest strippers I ever met (she worked in Portland, had her own booth and holy shit it was off with your head if you used it) some girl had put her shoes on the counter. She turned and very coldly said "Take your fucking shoes off the counter it's bad luck" Ask any stripper and they have a lucky outfit, lucky pair of underwear, lucky pair of shoes, and also equally unlucky outfits, shoes, and underwear. We also have a saying that I keep considering getting tattooed on me somewhere "There is always tomorrow" we live and die by this saying especially on bad nights. We have bills to pay just like everyone else only we don't have the stability of a paycheck so no matter how bad it gets we have to stay optimistic. Girls have the same superstition with their bags as their shoes. It took me forever to figure out the actual meaning of it, it didn't have to do with dirt, half of us bring our own rug to stand on. It has to do with respecting your money and not putting it on the level you walk, because then your money will always stay low. So by keeping it above where you put your dirty ass stripper feet it in theory keeps your money up.
If you follow me on twitter which you should (if you don't it is @RED_stripper) you know I'm always asking for a miracle. For my rent to be paid, for the chance to run into Giles or Courtney again. Guess who came a knocking on my door today just as I was reading an email about my rent...One Giles. Luckily I had a friend over helping me move furniture around (re-decorating on a budget, just move shit around). The door bell rang, and I thought it was a parcel I'm expecting from DC so in my excitement buzzed them (him) in. I should have known by the number of buzzes it was him, we always had a code, when he was sober, and good, and before he killed my dog, anyway i send (oh what should we call him...Thor) to check and see if there is a parcel downstairs, and he comes up and says, nope it's giles. I immediately freak out and say to call the police, only how am I going to explain this "Hi this man has broken into my house before, and admitted it was just to steal from me and I accidentally buzzed him in...can you arrest him?" No, police were called, Thor said giles was trying to write me some sort of note...I'm sure it was something to the effect of "I really need a place to stay I'm getting clean, blah, blah, blah, heard it before" much like the time he broke into my place knowing I was away on business so there would be no one here. I think his note that time apologized for intruding on my space and that he was only there for a little while, the funny thing about that note was I walked into my house to discover the lights on and him pop his head out of the kitchen. Later in an argument of some sort we had (I'm sure it was because something expensive had gone missing as it usually did with him around...He finally admitted that he had only come in because he knew I wouldn't be there and he had actually come by to see what I had that he could sell for drug money. The funny thing is at this point he had stolen mostly everything nice I owned, things with high sentimental value like a Prada wallet (My 1st mentor had given me). So there wasn't really anything left for him to steal at the time, that I wouldn't notice, I mean he did take two red and black Alexander McQueen scarves, thinking I would just think I was just continuously misplacing them. That now I finally am starting to get my things back a little bit by a little bit, I have a new wallet that I like just as much and means as much. He had taken all of my Marc Jacobs bags, and I had a few, and I've replaced them with different bags, ones that could even be considered more grown up than before. Also I spilled an entire bowl of clam chowder in one of those bags so someone is walking around with a really nice black bag that smells slightly of fish. Okay enough about the past and the horrible people I let into my life because I thought I could help them back to the story...
Thor then being a good friend did what any 6'3" 225 lb man (this is why i asked him to help me move furniture) would do, and chase him out of the building.He found him in the laundry room. Thor told him to leave, chased him out of the building, and down the street, saying I wanted nothing to do with him ever and that he's lucky I didn't kill him, since if given the chance I will cry every single day over my dog. I asked Thor how he looked, he said terrible he had sores all over his face, and looked very homeless. I suppose a good Samaritan would have let him shower...at the same time treat others as you would like to be treated, and I think if I was at that point in my life I would want my friends and family to turn me away, I would want any cushion from the bottom removed, so I could fall, and fall hard, and maybe then look around and pick myself up, realize life is unfair yes, but I don't have to be an asshole to people trying to help me, and just because my mother threw out all my designer things was no reason to steal and sell someone else's. I would find a way to get a job, even if it was the most demeaning of jobs (some of you might say what I do now is demeaning I think the exact opposite). However I would collect scrap metal, pour concrete, stand outside of lowes and get day labor jobs, till I could get a real job, then I would get my life together get an apartment, join NA or AA or NA and AA. So I guess I did exactly what I was suppose to do, I did not take pity or show pity where it was not due.
Someone the other day said, because I had found one of my dogs hairs while putting on my make-up that it was a sign from her to move on and get a new dog. I now think it was a warning, and it was her way of making me look at things from a different view, from hers, my little protector, my little (literal) bulldog.
So back to the luck part, I'm always asking for three things my rent paid, and to run into those two assholes. All three have happened in the matter of a week. I'm feeling very lucky, very blessed, very protected in a way. It's going to be so nice to work and be myself again, to work like I don't need it. It will give me the chance to really get back into the swing of being me, of not getting so butt-hurt when people turn me down.
Seriously guys, saying no is just fine, but when I ask you when the last time you saw someone as hot as myself happened to be and you respond with never. Why the fuck are you saying no to a dance? Also am I that odd looking that I'm seriously asking, leave me a message in the comments about it. Anyway saying no is fine, but remember we are human too so say no nicely, I mean do you like getting turned down at bars? Probably not. We don't like getting turned down 25 times in a row. However now that my three wishes have been granted. Lets hope for the fourth and that my parcel shows up. I can close the book on that chapter of my life. I can move on...What a crazy feeling. I suppose there is always tomorrow, but it's nice to know that tomorrow I get to start being me, being funny, and making money again, hell I can start tonight, you can say no as many times as you want because it doesn't phase me.
I'm feeling Sexy as fuck (thanks FP and DC for the hair) I still need to go to Vidal Sasson and use that gift card. I've decided to buy either a flat iron or a hair dryer, and new shampoo and conditioner. Or maybe just Shampoo and Conditioner since both my flatiron actually both of them work fine and my hair dryer has a retractable cord so it fits in small spaces and the cord doesn't get tangled. ANYWHO my hair is fresh as fuck, my body is looking slamming as usual...just need to get my squats in today. I'm feeling Snarky, and Funny, to me they are very different things. I'm feeling like the machine I previously was, the one that made more money than anyone else, that ran circles around the club. I'm very excited to be back in the saddle...I think I've said that about as many times as I've said there is always tomorrow...So I suppose at this moment it would be right to say "There is always today" Tonight I'll tell you the story of a friend of mine going to a strip club for the 1st time and how entertaining it was to me. So...here is to tonight.
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Wednesday, July 27, 2016
How to be the best stripper...ever (the word according to red)
Lately I've been asking myself how to get back to my original self. The self that made money hand over fist. I'm still attractive, I'm still smart. There is no reason why I should make money the last hour of work. Also I was asked to give advise on the subject considering my amazing abilities to retain regulars...although I am taking on new regulars if anyone is up for the challenge. I didn't advise them as I didn't have time and I didn't know what to say considering my most recent luck...
After binge watching a ton of netflix and hulu, and really going though everything in the past 10 years of my life ( it is getting to be that time of year where I start talking about the years passed). That there is a little bit of truth in the fiction of movies. I suppose what I'm about to say is probably going to concern some people. (Family I'm not talking to you or about you, or anyone who may think I'm referencing them personally I'm not this is more of a general statement)...YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THE LIE. YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY THE BEST PERSON ON THE FLOOR AND THAT NO ONE ELSE EXISTS OR THAT THEY ARE THERE TO ASSIT YOU IN MAKING MONEY. That's it that's all it takes. Oh and a six minute limit. If you can't close in six minutes you aren't going to close it. Remember it's an option you are selling, not a demand, and you have to believe that they are not the only option as well. Oh and the lie never derive from the lie. I don't mean lie to everyone about everything. I mean more like method acting believe who you are while you are on the floor. I always take time to adjust from work me to me me, before interacting with anyone.
So here is to getting back into myself and truly believing that "don't can't call me bitch, bitch"is the truest I have been with myself. Right up there with knowing a little bit about everything and taking interest in everything as well. Also righting myself for thinking I've been wrong at all and shouldn't do this or don't deserve to do it well. So that's all it takes to be a great stripper, just believe in yourself, and some tall, tall shoes.
After binge watching a ton of netflix and hulu, and really going though everything in the past 10 years of my life ( it is getting to be that time of year where I start talking about the years passed). That there is a little bit of truth in the fiction of movies. I suppose what I'm about to say is probably going to concern some people. (Family I'm not talking to you or about you, or anyone who may think I'm referencing them personally I'm not this is more of a general statement)...YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THE LIE. YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY THE BEST PERSON ON THE FLOOR AND THAT NO ONE ELSE EXISTS OR THAT THEY ARE THERE TO ASSIT YOU IN MAKING MONEY. That's it that's all it takes. Oh and a six minute limit. If you can't close in six minutes you aren't going to close it. Remember it's an option you are selling, not a demand, and you have to believe that they are not the only option as well. Oh and the lie never derive from the lie. I don't mean lie to everyone about everything. I mean more like method acting believe who you are while you are on the floor. I always take time to adjust from work me to me me, before interacting with anyone.
So here is to getting back into myself and truly believing that "don't can't call me bitch, bitch"is the truest I have been with myself. Right up there with knowing a little bit about everything and taking interest in everything as well. Also righting myself for thinking I've been wrong at all and shouldn't do this or don't deserve to do it well. So that's all it takes to be a great stripper, just believe in yourself, and some tall, tall shoes.
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Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Takling shit about other strippers, blanketing opinions that I'll probably regret soon
Dear Modest Mouse, I'm sorry I borrowed your lyrics a little bit, I hope that's okay. You've been my favorite band for almost 15 years.
Anyway, tonight was one of those nights I didn't want to go to work, but I didn't want to be at home. I don't want to be at home very much right now at all anyways. My interloper and friends (name of a terrible sitcom on abc this fall) are driving me crazy. Especially since all of a sudden I can't find 5 david yurman pieces and a tiffanys bangle. I'm really hoping it's just misplaced at the moment and that moved the bag they were in last night when I was tired and that they were not being scallywags and absconding with my finery. Which reminds me I'll be heading to the pawn shops tomorrow to try and find them...after I turn this place upside down. Regardless of that having someone in your home all the time is really hard, especially when I really want to be alone, or i expect my popsiciles to be in the freezer, or my cereal to be mostly there, waking me up because her cohort has annoyed her. I hate being at home right now...I also love knowing that she happens to talk about me behind my back saying what a bitch I am...Yes I am a huge bitch, it's a well known fact, it's basically the 1st chapter in the book of red. I wonder if I'm such a huge bitch why she stays.
This whole blog post is about what a bitch I am, how much I love work, happiness and it's correlation to work. Maybe this will be a multi-part post...If I remember
All of these factors lead to me want to escape by going to work. Baby and I were talking about it tonight near the end of the night, work has become our escape even though we aren't making a ton of money right now. (Dear #StripperDeites fucking help) Work is were our friends our, we don't have to stress about the same things we have to stress about in the "real world". So for a few brief hours it's a total escape. Even if you want to stress about things outside of work you have to get over it pretty quick or you can't work. Luckily I/we work somewhere, where we can talk about what's going on with some of our closest friends who know our deepest darkest secrets, and our most rational and irrational fears. Although it generally prevails that we all like each other (which is crazy when you think about it 15-50 women all together competing for money based on what they look like(sort of), our knowledge of anything and everything, and the cut of our jib.) sometimes it happens that we don't get along.
Tonight I was in the bathroom with nev, fiddling on my phone, and Versailles knocked on the door, nev asked her to wait a minute, versailles started tapping her toe impatiently, I can't remember the exact conversation at that point I don't know if I said something or if she did, however nev said she would hurry up or that she didn't need to act like that or something and Versailles was super annoyed, nev and I leave the bathroom. Versailles makes that Agh sound and slams the door like a 17 year old trying to punish their parents, I am not a parent and I was annoyed and tired and in a generally bad mood, so I kick the door open and proceed to say...Are you doing this thing, this paticular thing...What if I am?...You don't need to be fucking rude, I get that you want your privacy, I totally get it but that was fucking uncalled for...You know what red, whenever I need to use the bathroom you either come in and don't respect my privacy(which is true I do, do this sometimes, but I'm working on it, which no one knows because I don't make it known, hence the #tweetsfromthemensroom then I don't have to interupt anyone and I have my own stall and no one banging on the door, or disregarding the fact that the garbage can is in fromt of it to keep it from flying open and opening the door spewing the contents of the rubbish unless one jumps up from the toilet and catches it hopefully without having piss run down their leg, it's choosing the lesser of two evils at times. Or sometimes you ask them to wait a second and they can't hear you so they open the door to say "what" which makes zero sense to me.)...Still you don't need to be a fucking bitch about the whole thing...whatever fuck you...you know what bitch just so you know I picked up your fucking make-up bag and put it on top of your fucking locker after you were talking about people fucking stealing...I didn't leave my fucking make-up bag out...Yes you fucking did...She storms out of the locker room slamming two doors and talking about what a fucking cunt I am...at that moment I seriously considered dumping her make-up bag out...but I didn't.
I know this seems like a strange way to tell someone you did something nice for them and it was, and I know it seems like this escalated really quick...and it did...It all started earlier in the night when I actually got to work. I walked back to my corner to get ready and Nev and Versailles were taking up the whole space, and both of them were bitching about something. Versailles doesn't know what volume her voice is at most of the time, and it annoys the shit out of me. I was super tired when I got there so I put my head down for a minute and the two of them talking about whatever the fuck they were talking about annoyed the crap out of me and kept me from getting a 15min power nap in...which I then put another 10 min on and in the following 10min Versailles needed to get in her locker and apparently I was in the way, so she screeched "Red" to which I responded "FUCK SERIOUSLY" because I was basically asleep and I instantaneously realized that my efforts were pointless...So it was all building up.
When she came back in from stage she was slamming her locker and stomping around. So I stepped between her and the exit and said...I'm really sorry I yelled at you, and I told you so on your make-up bag...Thanks, I'm sorry too. Then we had the conversation that's in parentheses above. The thing that gets me on this is I seriously think that in a way Nev loves this kind of drama, as I looked up a couple of times I caught her in the mirror intently watching what was going on, and had this tiny little approving smirk on her face, eventually she chimed in about the bathroom conversation.
The girls I work with crack me up, I'm glad Versailles and I worked it out, I'm still waiting for the day Nev and I get into it, I know she doesn't like me, I think she tolerates me, I think she tolerates me because we have worked together for years...she once wanted me to catch her as she hoped off stage this was in my heavier days since I'm sure I looked sturdier at the time...Jumping at someone who is wearing 7+ inch heals and expecting them to catch you is a terrible idea, luckily no one died, obviously since it was quite some time ago and I'm still alive and writing this. Anyway that girl has a mouth on her and I'm not scared of her but I'm expecting it will go like most verbal things in my world...badly I as exhibited above at times do not know what to say, I could have called Versailles out on a bunch of shit right then and there but I didn't think it was a good idea...hence the "I picked up your fucking make-up bag bitch, your welcome". Nev however I'm not so sure we've worked together a long time and we both have dirt on each other. GVS strikes again.
Speaking of Dirt stand by for my next blog post...Ladies I work with it's important.
Anyway, tonight was one of those nights I didn't want to go to work, but I didn't want to be at home. I don't want to be at home very much right now at all anyways. My interloper and friends (name of a terrible sitcom on abc this fall) are driving me crazy. Especially since all of a sudden I can't find 5 david yurman pieces and a tiffanys bangle. I'm really hoping it's just misplaced at the moment and that moved the bag they were in last night when I was tired and that they were not being scallywags and absconding with my finery. Which reminds me I'll be heading to the pawn shops tomorrow to try and find them...after I turn this place upside down. Regardless of that having someone in your home all the time is really hard, especially when I really want to be alone, or i expect my popsiciles to be in the freezer, or my cereal to be mostly there, waking me up because her cohort has annoyed her. I hate being at home right now...I also love knowing that she happens to talk about me behind my back saying what a bitch I am...Yes I am a huge bitch, it's a well known fact, it's basically the 1st chapter in the book of red. I wonder if I'm such a huge bitch why she stays.
This whole blog post is about what a bitch I am, how much I love work, happiness and it's correlation to work. Maybe this will be a multi-part post...If I remember
All of these factors lead to me want to escape by going to work. Baby and I were talking about it tonight near the end of the night, work has become our escape even though we aren't making a ton of money right now. (Dear #StripperDeites fucking help) Work is were our friends our, we don't have to stress about the same things we have to stress about in the "real world". So for a few brief hours it's a total escape. Even if you want to stress about things outside of work you have to get over it pretty quick or you can't work. Luckily I/we work somewhere, where we can talk about what's going on with some of our closest friends who know our deepest darkest secrets, and our most rational and irrational fears. Although it generally prevails that we all like each other (which is crazy when you think about it 15-50 women all together competing for money based on what they look like(sort of), our knowledge of anything and everything, and the cut of our jib.) sometimes it happens that we don't get along.
Tonight I was in the bathroom with nev, fiddling on my phone, and Versailles knocked on the door, nev asked her to wait a minute, versailles started tapping her toe impatiently, I can't remember the exact conversation at that point I don't know if I said something or if she did, however nev said she would hurry up or that she didn't need to act like that or something and Versailles was super annoyed, nev and I leave the bathroom. Versailles makes that Agh sound and slams the door like a 17 year old trying to punish their parents, I am not a parent and I was annoyed and tired and in a generally bad mood, so I kick the door open and proceed to say...Are you doing this thing, this paticular thing...What if I am?...You don't need to be fucking rude, I get that you want your privacy, I totally get it but that was fucking uncalled for...You know what red, whenever I need to use the bathroom you either come in and don't respect my privacy(which is true I do, do this sometimes, but I'm working on it, which no one knows because I don't make it known, hence the #tweetsfromthemensroom then I don't have to interupt anyone and I have my own stall and no one banging on the door, or disregarding the fact that the garbage can is in fromt of it to keep it from flying open and opening the door spewing the contents of the rubbish unless one jumps up from the toilet and catches it hopefully without having piss run down their leg, it's choosing the lesser of two evils at times. Or sometimes you ask them to wait a second and they can't hear you so they open the door to say "what" which makes zero sense to me.)...Still you don't need to be a fucking bitch about the whole thing...whatever fuck you...you know what bitch just so you know I picked up your fucking make-up bag and put it on top of your fucking locker after you were talking about people fucking stealing...I didn't leave my fucking make-up bag out...Yes you fucking did...She storms out of the locker room slamming two doors and talking about what a fucking cunt I am...at that moment I seriously considered dumping her make-up bag out...but I didn't.
I know this seems like a strange way to tell someone you did something nice for them and it was, and I know it seems like this escalated really quick...and it did...It all started earlier in the night when I actually got to work. I walked back to my corner to get ready and Nev and Versailles were taking up the whole space, and both of them were bitching about something. Versailles doesn't know what volume her voice is at most of the time, and it annoys the shit out of me. I was super tired when I got there so I put my head down for a minute and the two of them talking about whatever the fuck they were talking about annoyed the crap out of me and kept me from getting a 15min power nap in...which I then put another 10 min on and in the following 10min Versailles needed to get in her locker and apparently I was in the way, so she screeched "Red" to which I responded "FUCK SERIOUSLY" because I was basically asleep and I instantaneously realized that my efforts were pointless...So it was all building up.
When she came back in from stage she was slamming her locker and stomping around. So I stepped between her and the exit and said...I'm really sorry I yelled at you, and I told you so on your make-up bag...Thanks, I'm sorry too. Then we had the conversation that's in parentheses above. The thing that gets me on this is I seriously think that in a way Nev loves this kind of drama, as I looked up a couple of times I caught her in the mirror intently watching what was going on, and had this tiny little approving smirk on her face, eventually she chimed in about the bathroom conversation.
The girls I work with crack me up, I'm glad Versailles and I worked it out, I'm still waiting for the day Nev and I get into it, I know she doesn't like me, I think she tolerates me, I think she tolerates me because we have worked together for years...she once wanted me to catch her as she hoped off stage this was in my heavier days since I'm sure I looked sturdier at the time...Jumping at someone who is wearing 7+ inch heals and expecting them to catch you is a terrible idea, luckily no one died, obviously since it was quite some time ago and I'm still alive and writing this. Anyway that girl has a mouth on her and I'm not scared of her but I'm expecting it will go like most verbal things in my world...badly I as exhibited above at times do not know what to say, I could have called Versailles out on a bunch of shit right then and there but I didn't think it was a good idea...hence the "I picked up your fucking make-up bag bitch, your welcome". Nev however I'm not so sure we've worked together a long time and we both have dirt on each other. GVS strikes again.
Speaking of Dirt stand by for my next blog post...Ladies I work with it's important.
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