Happy. Working. These. Jobs. That includes myself, as well as the good old pole dancing job. No, I can’t sleep with men for money – but I can dance… like you wouldn’t believe. So, I am a stripper – who sometimes goes home with zero dollars, due to not being able bang your husbands, or wives… sons, daughters, girlfriends and boyfriends… but I have excellent sales experience, and I happen to be somewhat be appealing – so they pay me. I too, am an aspiring burger flipper, whom cannot find a burger flipping job – anywhere within 25 miles of metro Detroit – despite my – 10 plus years as an executive administrative assistant and related positions. I was overworking, “quitting school for executive spot(s) in sight(s)… job, after, job, after layoff, after job, bonus after bonus, raise after raise – giving corporate America my all.” In turn giving my education half of that “all.” I’m told I must have done something terrible in my past if I am seeking to fill a minimum wage position to sustain myself, let alone anyone else. I am told I’m not trying hard enough, and, “in my day I did this,” or, “when I was your age I was able to do that!” Then two years later, I hear the same old lady in the dressing room complaining about the job market – in the strip club! Imagine that! Now we all, as strippers, make a dollar at minimum per shift; but, it doesn’t cover the charge to work daily.
Don’t go down – quietly… Americans! Your raise in minimum wage is nothing to be so celebratory about – ghost town = USA, soon! Consumers, even the strippers, are tightening their garter belts. I read in the news recently, now you’ll want to look it up, but globally – sex workers are accepting less for their work! Now check it out, high paying jobs are taking huge hits, from the whore, to the executive – and low paying jobs are receiving raises. I know we are poor, but take a step back, and back your boss people! Now you can’t, it’s too late – so back yourselves, and group up. Tocqueville even stated that, the knowledge and right to gather – well, all of society relies upon it. A local girl hammered me one day with:
“MANY people my age, approaching thirty; as well as the ones who are older, argue that the minimum wage was not meant for people who are trying to raise families. When I was 14, I grabbed a job at the local chicken place, and not one senior citizen worked with us teens back then. However, that was in the years of 2001-2002, and shortly after I would be paid $15 an hour, four hours a day, five days a week, as a co-op/intern, for a high school program.”
People want me to hold out, do what you do, until you find something better. “It’s not worth your time to work for $9,” AND “why would you miss your son more working the bar only on the week-ends! Why, just to keep your clothes off during the week?!” they mutter.
“YES,” I think to myself!
All the while, they need to borrow money, and each have at one time or another, run to the “local stripper for cold thong cash – me!” All of us exotic dancers talk about it in the locker room, as we put on our make-up, or pass one another at shift change… as if we are the welfare office. One that doesn’t push papers, or ask for a DNA sample and social security numbers. Nope, we are the dumb office – who cares for all, and when we have nothing left to give at the moment, become the stripper again. I would love the “cover” burger flipping job – I just cannot seem to qualify. Ascetically, I won’t ruin the customer’s appetites. I won’t work for, or with family as a rule. Things are insane, but I’m happy.
Then when I come up with an answer of, “no I don’t have money for you,” it’s out with you as they shout, “you must be on drugs if you’re out of money,” and, “quit school and get a real job, you whore.” I even heard once, “I don’t know how she can not have money,” we all laugh and make fun of these people in the back room too. The back room is the dressing room, there aren’t VIP rooms in this last gem of a bar. We all laugh and keep a smile as we get ready to go home – sometimes dollar-less. We do not even complain, even the dumbest of the dumb stripper says nothing – even she knows she is lucky the bar is surviving. The Traffic Light in Mount Clemens is a gem, $10 per lap dance and the tip out is cheaper than other places, at $60 a shift.
I am convinced this was done on purpose to end our retail market – among many other markets… well all markets. My most recent political science teacher would agree with this statement. Our liberties are being stripped away, and the wealth redistributed – in a particular way, purposely.
Over and out until the next time!
The burger flipping, non-family breaking, STD free, blogging, stripping, non-sleeping with your significant other regardless of the amount of money offered, happy, striving for better future, single mother.
❤ and Peace all,