Kat has been stripping since 2003 and blogging about it since 2009. She works at a club next to the Chips Ahoy factory. Sometimes it smells like cookies but usually it just smells like cheap body spray. She doesn't think it's very funny to make fun of deceased prostitutes and doesn't see why you can't just stick with a good old-fashioned dick joke. You can find her on twitter. You may send mail to katstories [at] gmail.com but she must insist that you don't send her any form of poetry whatsoever.
HERE. is Lindsay Kugler’s “mini-memoir,” covering a year in her early twenties living in Austin, being in a codependent relationship, and working on My Free Cams. She also worked as a social worker and writes about dealing with clients from both worlds in a style that reads like poetry, with negative spaces that leave you wanting more while you cackle.
One time while trying to find one of JC’s medicine bottles I found a soiled copy of The Ethical Slut by Dossie Easton. I first encountered it in one of my sexuality courses I took at Arizona State and I wondered why JC would even have a copy. I imagined him pushing through a bookstore to find something so salaciously titled to bring it home and find it was less Penthouse and more personal theory.
HERE. feels like stumbling upon someone’s very relatable diary. Haven’t we all done the equivalent of getting drunk and crawling into a cardboard box so someone would happen upon us and give us sympathy? Originally self-published through Portland’s Independent Publishing Resource Center before being picked up by University of Hell Press, Kugler’s debut also has my all-time favorite About The Author line: “She is a college dropout who has never cared about school.” I loved doing this interview and can’t wait to read what she writes next.
How did you get started camming?
In the context of the relationship that I was in, I was not getting a lot of attention and I was not getting a lot of sexual fulfillment. I had first gone through Craigslist Casual Encounters being like, “I’m just interested in being on cam with someone via Skype and I don’t even really want to see you. I just kinda want to take my clothes off and that would be it.” And I got a few responses and talked to some people and then they were like, “You could make money doing this.” At the time I was working for AmeriCorps, so I was working 40 hours a week making like no money as a case manager, and I was like, “You know, I could use some extra income.” So I looked into it and really how I got started was sort of a mixture of needing to get paid and also needing to fulfill this void that I had in my life. [READ MORE]
Remember the first time you watched Nomi Malone lick the pole at Cheetah’s? Weren’t you all “Ew, who does that?” as you decided Windex was one of the better things coming into contact with her tongue? Have you seen a new girl at the club cruise by in a mullet tutu and been like “What just happened?” I die a little on the inside witnessing less glaring hustle mistakes. One of the most humbling things about stripping(besides the constant rejection) is that you’ll still be fine-tuning your sales skills and learning from your mistakes even after working long enough that dumb regulars call you a “lifer.”Maybe you’re all business in the front resulting in not enough party in the back.Here are a few cringe-inducing moves I know I’ve been guilty of.
Next On Stage We Have Amnesia: My number one personal problem is consistently forgetting about customers who express interest. Thanks to garish carpet, lasers, loud music, and other things designed to disorient patrons into spending, my attention span seems to clear and reset approximately every thirty seconds. If I’m collecting my stage tips and a guy tells me to come talk to him, I’ll go straighten up in the dressing room and get back on the floor with the interaction erased from my memory. He’ll watch me walk around, cold-calling other men like his money isn’t good enough. By the time I work my way to him and say that he looks familiar from somewhere, the damage has been done. So remember your medication, write on your hand with eyeliner, and set a phone alarm for three minutes in the future. Mostly, don’t get sucked into dillydallying in the dressing room. [READ MORE]
Burnout is a beast with which anyone doing emotional labor is all too familiar. It can be devastating when you pay to work and your income depends on appearing… not burned out. Isn’t it wild how you think everything’s cool and then out of nowhere and you find yourself paralyzed by the mere thought of approaching customers because you just know they’ll say something stupid and ruin your night?
Maybe you strip in a city where 60 strip clubs compete for a small market by continually raising stakes and lowering prices, desperately trying to lure business with $9.99 surf ‘n’ turf, $1 Pabst Blue Ribbon, dollar dances, free buffets, free porn, midget features, topless bartenders, topless waitresses, topless DJs, naked violinists. Your peers are diving headfirst into laps chasing single dollar bills like retrievers, two-girl tangoing, butt-plugging, Tootsie Pop-penetrating, and that’s just on stage.
Maybe you think about how much money you spend on the costs of being a Responsible Adult and divide it by $20 lapdances and it hurts your heart. Or you hear “Young Turks” and you think about how many times you must have heard that song when it was on the jukebox of your first club in 2003 but now you really understand “life is so brief/time is a thief when you’re undecided,” and the thought of having to shave is reason enough not to try today.
I’m sure you won’t be surprised to find out that I’m describing myself. But you might be surprised to know that I’m still a decent earner. All it takes is just a consistent conscious effort. I’m out here fighting the good fight against burnout. If your shifts are wastes of makeup and sometimes you make a U-turn in the strip club parking lot, I feel your pain. This list is for you. [READ MORE]
Historically, I haven’t been a big fan of Christmas, which is why I’ve been parading around at work as a sexy Ms. Claus since Thanksgiving ended. I’ve come to realize that the key to getting through the holidays is to really embrace them and have fun with it: make them your bitch. If you don’t own any holiday lingerie, I suggest you change that because red velvet with white fuzzy trim is flattering on every type of attitude. Want to express your newfound cheer on stage but can’t think of any vaguely strip club appropriate holiday music? We got you. Not to mention these lyrics are less offensive than “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” (If dancing to hip hop isn’t really your thing, then check out last year’s edition.)
Too $hort, “The Hanukkah Song” It’s only two minutes long, so it’s a great song to strip to if you really have to pee and didn’t have time before your stage set because a female customer puked all over the bathroom. Plus now you don’t have to dance to Adam Sandler, which is something you shouldn’t have been doing anyway, however hysterical “At A Medium Pace” may be to you. This just came out, so dance to it first and yell at everyone else for stealing your song.
Eazy E, “Merry Muthaphuckkin’ Xmas” This one’s a muthaphuckkin’ classic.
Strip tripping can be fun and lucrative, or you can come back with less money and an ego so bruised that you’ll change the subject whenever anyone asks about that trip that you wouldn’t shut up about before you left. There was the time that I went to Indianapolis during the Indy 500 because a lonely juggalette stripper on the Internet told me I’d make like ten thousand dollars, minimum. And then there was the time that I just showed up in Hawaii and had to eat Burger King and Subway for a week. I would like to think that I know what I’m doing by now, and since I’m not nice enough to tell you where the money’s good, I’ll at least share tips that have made my life easier. This list is inspired by badass seasoned road stripper Story’s advice, so please look at it first.
Through Being Cool: If Vegas is on your stripper bucket list, or you can’t stop looking at everyone’s Guam Facebook pics, then I won’t stop you from going to the popular stripping destinations. But I think you’re going to have more luck at the club in the middle of nowhere that you’ve never heard of. You know why you’ve never heard of it? Because strippers keep the best places to themselves. Get rustic. Is the customer riding a horse around the parking lot not a big deal? Do the dancers pee in the dressing room trashcan? Go there. [READ MORE]