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Chapter 50: Redemption, Part 2
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Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 1: Prologue
This quiet librarian was naked, except for a pair of T-backs , 6-inch heels, and a class ring from "The Harvard of the South" that glinted in the dark. As I stood on the raised platform, I felt as though I were on a pedestal, a golden goddess on her throne. I shimmied and gyrated to the music, feeling an intoxication unmatched by alcohol. A trio of men grouped around my small stage, each eager to tuck singles into my elastic band. The club was dimly lit, an eternal twilight that belied the blazing Texas sun outside. The AC pouring through the vents made my nipples hard and dried up the sweat on my back from the exertion of dancing. There were six stages, six dancers, and stage lights illuminated each one of us like dolls in a cabinet; we were living, breathing mannequins, each moving with a sensual fluidity as unique as a fingerprint. A mix of country and rock pounded through the stereo system, and groups of half-nude women chatted with fully clothed men in suits and cowboy hats,
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 2: Epic Fail
As soon as I opened my teller drawer, my heart started pounding. All of my strapped and loose cash was there from the day before, in neat little rows. How could you have left it out again? How could you have made such a stupid mistake? Everyone went silent. They all knew what forgetting to put one's cash in the vault meant. "Let's start counting," Kris, the head teller, whispered. My insides writhed as Kris and I pulled the straps off the stacks of 100s and 20s to run through the money counter . We needed to account for every penny. You didn't even lock your drawer!My fellow tellers, Megan and Amanda, tried to small talk about their plans for this weekend, to cover up the general feeling of embarrassment. Every once in a while, they glanced over at me, and I hated their stares of pity. The world went blurry as tears threatened to spill over my eyes. My nose turned its characteristic shade of clown-nose bright vermillion that let the world know how pathetic I felt. I excu
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 3: Hello, Little Girl, Part 1
I must have seemed like a country mouse at her first Freak Show, wanting the part of Head Freak. I drove to Baby Dolls, a huge glamorous club, straight from my shift at the Garland Public Library. The manager's eyes raked over my black pants, chunky glasses, and long-sleeved, lavender button-up."Sorry," he said. "We already have enough entertainers, but you can try our sister club, Lipstick. They're always hiring. Ask for Little Jon."At the time, I thought this was the manager's honest response, but I simply hadn't learned the tacit rules of the audition yet. Slightly dejected, but no less determined, I drove down Harry Hines, passing tire shops, cheap Mexican restaurants, adult toy stores, and filthy-looking, no-name hotels. Baby Dolls was Reunion Tower, Lipstick, McDonalds. Baby Dolls was a gargantuan, loud affair, with flashing lights, glittering bars, two stories and 6 stages, and catered to large wallets and black credit cards; Lipstick had a glowing neon sign of a lip-print
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 4: Hello Little Girl, Part 2
I came three hours early on my first day. I hadn't meant to show up that early, but it was a Sunday, and instead of opening up at 11, the club opened at 12 (to get around those pesky alcohol laws in Texas). Pulling up to the back, I could see the kitchen staff were already there, hosing down the parking lot and surrounding area to clean it from the previous night's alcohol spills and cigarette butts. It still stank of stale beer, smoke, and grease, a combination I grew oddly fond of. When I walked in, Little Jon was snoozing in a corner, so I quietly went backstage to the locker room to unpack and get dressed. The House Mom hadn't even arrived yet. I found an empty locker and claimed it with a purple lock. The dingy room had ripped carpet, huge wall-length mirrors, and long benches for the dancers to sit on, or nap on, depending on how slow the day was. Not a single inch looked clean; the shower in the corner looked like a breeding ground for foot fungus, and nary a square inch was f
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 5: Of First Tips, Customers, and Lap Dances, Part 1
I danced like a robot. Not a sexy, Westworld kind of robot; an old Issac Asimov robot with huge, square movements that only seemed to operate at 90-degree angles. True, no one laughed at me or threw tomatoes (or cocktail napkins), but my repertoire of stripper moves included sauntering around the pole and the bend-and-snap from Legally Blonde, (and that didn't even work in the movie). When it came time to take off my top in the second song, I felt…nothing. My nerves only came from the performance aspect of it, but I was numb to the stares. I was just another exotic animal in the flesh menagerie, protected by the invisible barrier of the stage. No one was technically allowed to touch me onstage, only enough to tip me. That didn't stop a drunk redneck woman from licking between my breasts, though. My chest stank of coffee breath for hours after that.Toto, I have a feeling we're not in ballet class anymore…Someone eventually felt sorry for me, seeing how completely new and out-of-pl
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 6: Of First Tips, Customers, and Lap Dances, Part 2
What was that? Were all lap dances going to be so terrible? I felt like I had just been grubbed and treated like a literal piece of meat, the kind that swings in butcher shops, blood dripping onto the floor and flies buzzing around. It wasn't so much the feeling of being touched that bothered me; it was the sheer force and insistence of the man. I plopped down onto the bench and stared at myself in the mirror. Would it always be periods of molasses-like slowness punctuated by grimy, forceful, ass-spreading men?The House Mom glanced up from her magazine. "How's it going out there?""It's pretty slow, I guess. I just needed to take a break.""It's always slow on Sundays, but it'll pick up."I nodded and laid my head down trying to collect my thoughts."You don't seem like the kind of person to be here. What do you do besides this?" she asked. "I work in a library," I responded. "No shit," she said. "Well honey, let me just tell you one thing: don't quit your second job. This
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 7: A Typical Day, Part 1
"Excuse me, could you help me with the computer?"A white-haired woman in a blue jean skirt and pink cardigan pulled me from my philosophic musings. I took a deep breath. Computer help always felt like Russian Roulette. At the library, people with various levels of computer literacy come in, and it can be difficult explaining to someone why the internet is running slowly or why their email needs to be verified. Sometimes, if it were a technical problem, people looked at me with an expression of "Why don't you have the entire computer manual memorized?""Sure, how can I help?" "Well, I need to pay my water bill today, and they said I could pay it online, but I'm not too good with computers.""Let's take a look," I said, standing up. She led me over to her station. Our library had about fifteen public computers. Some people were surfing Facebook and Twitter; others were filling out job applications or working on resumes. Amanda, our patron with Down Syndrome, was carefully researchi
Confessions of an Exotic Dancing Librarian Chapter 8: A Typical Day, Part 2
I could barely fit the key into the door to turn the lock. My legs felt wooden and my brain was stuffed with cotton. After eight hours of dancing, flirting with scores of men, and pacing the floors, I simply wanted to crash on the bed from exhaustion. I paused outside the apartment, listening to the sounds of League of Legends and Nick and Nolan playing. "What the hell are they doing?!""I don't know man, but they're fuckin' insane!""Move! Move! Move!""Fuuuuck!!"Lovely. Normally the sounds of their video game antics didn't bother me, but after the constant blaring of music, all I wanted was silence. Their incessant yelling began to grind my nerves before I even walked in the door. I had also only made $120 that day. Those first few weeks were a bit rough to get used to, especially since I didn't immediately acquire loads of cash, like I had expected. I wanted the big cash: four or five hundred dollars per day. I tried to temper my green dreams with realism. Stripping was a l
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