7:03pm Crap, I forgot to get gas this afternoon when I saw I was on empty! Stop at Circle K in my stripper uniform (hot pink velour tracksuit, thick smoky eyeliner, lip plumping gloss, rhinestone jewelry, teased blonde hair in soft updo) $38 to fill the tank for the week. I’m soooo glad I traded in the Range Rover for my current Volvo…er “Vulva” as Vinnie affectionatly calls it.
“Staked? What’s that mean?” inquires the pudgy guy fulling up his shiny Hummer next to me. He’s wrinkling his brow, cocking his head to the side mouthing Staked, Sta-ked, over and over again trying to figure out my license plate.
“Stacked. I’m a librarian.” I say hopping back into my car. I’m cutting it too close to stay and chat. Besides, he just spent half his paycheck on gasoline.
7:57pm Pay house fee at the bar. Another three minutes and Mr Cooper would have gotten an extra $10. I paid him $6190 in stage fees last year. How do you entice strippers to get to work early? Make them pay more money the later they arrive.
8:05pm Panama!
8:20pm Chazz the surgeon/real estate mogul and his buddies from his old Air Force days are in town from Napa for….drum roll please…The Superbowl! He has been to a strip club once before in his life. Since the floor is slow, and the dancer to customer ratio is about 5:1 I decide to sit with Chazz for much longer than I would if the ratio had been 1:5. I love this type of client: the I-don’t-go-to-strip-clubs guy. They don’t watch rap videos, they don’t want to cheat on their wives, they just want attention and entertainment from the lady of their choice. Chazz doesn’t want to get a dance because he feels like a perv if he does….so he asks me how much is an appropriate tip. SuperStripper Rule: Don’t be greedy! I tell him that it costs me approximately $75-100 a night to cover my stage fees and tip out, and anything he wants to give me would be appreciated. Chazz covers my business overhead for the night, and tells me to come back after he’s had a few beers.
9pm Extravaganza! There are over 75 girls on the roster and 7 waiting for orientation. The line to get down the main staircase for Christie’s Hourly Cattle Call wraps all the way around the wrought iron VIP Balcony. I didn’t sell my Christie’s Shot Glass. It took 8 minutes to wait in the line of 55 girls to get my $10 deposit back. Note to self….tonight it will be faster to just sell the merchandise and eat the $10 loss.
9:30pm After a few table dances around the room, I go back to Chazz. He’s ready to go upstairs. His buddies don’t want to go, so I negotiate a half hour rate with him.
10pm Extravaganza! There’s now easily 85 girls on the roster. I’m not waiting 15 minutes to get a $10 deposit back on a Christie’s Tshirt. I sell it to Ollie from Orlando. He is very nice, and since he’s from Orlando where they only have “table-side” dances, he is appreciative that the table doesn’t have to be between physically between me and his crotch. So, I don’t mind only profiting $5 per dance since Ollie is so sweet. Oh crap..he pays me with two Christie’s Cash…make that $4 profit per dance. Oh crap…I cashed it in and tipped the bartender….make that $3 profit per dance. It’s a good thing Ollie was sweet.
10:15pm Pat and Allie are sitting at Chazz’s former table. (Actually, Chazz had been sitting at Pat and Allie’s table) This is the local couple that has made Christie’s their Cheers every Friday night and after the Sun’s games. I wish I could clone them. He is a retired divorce attorney/current luxury home builder. She is a teacher at a reform high school. It cracks me up whenever there is a young new girl and Allie thinks it’s a current student. She will say “I can’t get dances tonight….I think that is one of my students!”
11pm Extravaganza! I sell my Christie’s faux gold-plated lighter to Chad the CFO from Chicago. I tell him all about the blast I had at VIPs in Chicago this past summer with my Investools coaches when I was there for an options trading conference. “You’re a trader?” he asks.
“Yep. I loaded up on puts at the close today, did you?” I respond. This gets the attention of the table. So as I twirled around topless, I just start spouting off in my trader lingo speak, “I played the bounce off support by selling in the money naked puts when the VIX spiked. I’ve gotten burned in the past by buying calls and then all the extrinsic value gets totally sucked out of them when the market makers crush volatility.”
“Hardy har har…you’re giving me a boner!” Chad says tipping me twenties in my gstring…
“Great….lets go upstairs!” Men are so completely fucking simple.
12am Extravaganza! Christie’s is a complete MADHOUSE! It is packed to the rafters. People everywhere. This is where SuperStripper takes a few minutes to survey the crowd. When I was a JobStripper I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. I would just go from table to table not looking to see which table was made of gold and which one was made of paper. I would just follow the shortest distance from one $10 lap to the next $10 lap and miss the $500 lap because it was three tables over.
One of the best things I learned from Naked Assets was how to identify my target client. I can still hear the instructor Amber saying, “Once you figure it out, dollar signs just pop up and float over their heads. You can see it. You can see who has a $20 bill floating over their head, who had a $100 bill floating over their head…look for who has that $1000 neon sign blinking!” It is so true. All you need to have a SuperStripper night is one generous man with a credit card. I didn’t see him. I did see lots of C-notes floating cartoonishly over the heads of several mid-fortyish white guys in golf shirts.
1am Extravaganza! I was stuck at the ATM with a mid-fortyish white guy withdrawing $200. Oops. If I get caught I’ll pay the $10 fine for missing the extravaganza. Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry blasts over the sound system. The next girl on stage is late…..crap…I’m supposed to be up there.
1:30am Back at the ATM with a mid fortyish white guy. Steve the head of security grins and shakes his head. I’ve-been-a-strip-club-bouncer-for three-days approaches me and says, “I have a dance for you…” Thanks, but I’m already set!
2am Stages closed. Table dances only. I hit up the tip rail at the main stage. Score the last six songs of the night with Barry from Boston in town for…..the Superbowl! His flight had just gotten in at 8pm, he had to wait for his buddies flight from Chicago until 10pm, they hadn’t even checked into their hotel yet, they just went straight to Christie’s from the airport. Next time, get the rental car and wait at Christie’s, it’s 3 minutes from the airport! We end the night with Kid Rock’s Half your Age. I hand Barry some VIP passes for tomorrow night.
3am the parking lot is finally clear! Gates unlock and I can begin trekking home to my suburban abode.
4am bed!
Tags: customer, exotic dancer, marketing, sales, strip club, stripper, superbowl, superstripper, vip