When I noticed the new column in my local strip club (and escort ads) rag, Exotic, titled Go-Go Confessional, I was ready for some confessions. (“I stole my go-go rival’s lucky furry legwarmers!” “I totally hooked up with that semi-famous semi-hot singer of the band.” “OMG, I lost my electrical tape.”)
Instead, I was surprised by the amount of stripper-targeted resentment contained in the article.
Let’s face it, strippers come a dime a dozen—especially in this town. There is, however, a sexy breed of naughty performers in need of recognition. This would be the go-go dancer.
Though we don’t take off all our clothes or spread eagle in your face, we still do tricks and specialty moves.
Go-go dancers are also more likely to talk to you on breaks while wringing sweat from their hair. Without the hustle for private dances, the pressure is off and you can really get to know us. I’m not just saying this but we are all nice girls.