Lately, I've been sending out cover letters and resumes like there is no tomorrow and I just can't seem to get that phone call, let alone an interview. So I started thinking about spells for money and jobs and the like. Its been in the back of my mind: pulling out all the old supplies and throwing myself on whatever deity will enable me to survive.
This past weekend, I worked another fetish party. I went in there knowing I HAD to make $200 in order to not bounce my rent check that I already mailed to my landlord. I haven't made $200 at a party in quite some time. Again, this is all due to the growing expectation of unabashed prostitution, but how do you fight it? Generally I work the early shift, starting right after I leave Real Job and working till about midnight or 1am depending on how the night is going.
This night was the same. I was the first girl there. I changed and watched the NFL Playoffs till the guys showed up. A few guys sprinkled in. I tried to engage them, but there were so many girls and so few guys. Suddenly I looked at the clock and we were 2 hours into the party and I had only made $20. Disaster.
And then the Jets beat the Colts. I don't know if you watched that game. It came down to a field goal. Exciting. I'll admit I was standing around during the last 2 minutes of the game watching with all the guys as well. And when the Jets won a celebratory riot ensued. Guys were running around, shouting "that is for US! This win was for US!" and I didn't really understand why all of a sudden I was standing in a room of New York fans (since I wasn't in New York) but as I learned, Rex Ryan who is the head coach of the Jets, filmed a series of foot fetish videos staring his wife. And that is more than enough to get a club full of foot fetishists to root for your team, as it were.
With the celebration I hoped that the guys would start spending money. And perhaps they did, but not on me. There I sat with 20 bucks in my pocket trying to remain friendly but essentially giving up. I texted my boyfriend to save me, but alas, he was still working, so while I waited for him I tried to mingle.
Here is the thing: I have a lot of people that I talk to at these parties. Some of the conversations I even enjoy. But I am there TO MAKE MONEY. So its frustrating when the same guy talks you ear off week after week and then never slips you payment. Yes, I know you don't pay for conversation, and maybe I'm not your "type" but I'm clearly type enough to stimulate you intellectually, and what the hell, you can support my sexy brain even if you don't want to support my sexy feet. I digress.
We were talking about magic. The girls introduced me to a guy who gives massages. He kept saying he "didn't know me" and I told him my name and tried to come up with good "getting to know you" fodder. He explained that he could tell everything about me with his thumbs. So he gave me a backrub. Wow. Was it good. Actually, good might not even be the right word. I mean, I was stiff and it HURT. But at the same time, it was like I could breathe and think again. And then at the end, he told me "ok, now go make that money"
And the stars aligned. It was really weird.
Suddenly, I was in high demand. I was consistently busy and then decided that I had made enough and grabbed my coat to meet my boyfriend. That's when I was approached by a guy who asked if I had to leave right away. I told him no and he said that he would rent a private room. I blanched. That only ever means one thing. I led him to a corner and asked what exactly he was into. "Lapdances. And.... you know" Right. I DO know. That's exactly the problem. I flat out told him "ok, well lapdances are all I do. Just so we're on the same page." He pondered this news for a moment and then said "ok, let's do it anyway"
About halfway through, it occurred to me that giving a lapdance for 30 minutes straight is really hard on your thighs. At least the girls that perform other.... tasks in the rooms get to flex different muscle groups. It also occurred to me that I have NO IDEA how to give a proper lapdance and should go about learning. Although, where does one learn that skill? Is it all on the job training? This is why I will never be a stripper... I can't stand the thought of not doing something well.
I had another long lap dance customer earlier in the evening who really likes my body, which is nice, except he tells me why the whole time we session. And it's always really great phrases like "You have all this extra meat on your bones" and "your ass is just so big." I know he is saying these things as a good thing. I know he is trying to be nice. But it's like highschool in there and the other girls catch on and giggle and whisper "fatass" which, yeah, compared to most of them, I am.
But the winner of the best of the night award goes to the guy who approached me while I was dancing in the mingle room. He tells me how sexy my dancing is and how it just "pushes all his buttons." He wants to know what I'm into. I tell him I do foot sessions. He says he is sure I have sexy feet, but that he wants to see more. I say that I can dance for him if he'd like. He presses on: "Yes, but what else?"
"Nothing"
"Nothing?"
"No sorry."
[long awkward pause while he stared me down]
"Slut!" and then he walked away.
Yes, sir. You are right. I am ABSOLUTELY a slut because i WON'T put out. Good job.
Asshole.
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