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I used to work as a bouncer in a strip club. At first, I thought it was the best job ever - later on I realized how fucking awful it was. It's like seing the dark side of the freak shows. You would not believe the petty shit these girls would fight about, all the stealing from each other, and typical low-life activity that they must have been raised with. Most of the women who worked there (shocking news/spoiler alert) were not college girls, looking to make tuition money. Almost all of them had some type of self-esteem and poor self image issues, many who did have the bod and brain were pros (meaning strippers, not hookers) who knew better that $500-$1000 a night on regular basis is better than $200-$300 for prostitution that either got them busted or fired. Believe it or not, but many stip joints really frown upon girls fucking customers. It not only generates a risk of being shut down but also creates a potential for unnecessary drama - such as a customer who got some pussy all the sudden thinks he is dating the girl and comes in and causes trouble because she's not paying him any attention or extra attention to someone else. Usually the customer would be banned, girl would be on notice that if she's caught pimping herself after work ours she's fired, and I've seen many scanks come and go. usually those were girls who don't want a pimp but want to be prostitutes - so, they saw a fertile ground in strip joint and quickly "found out" and fired.
Many bouncers who I worked with were off-duty cops and state police, who not only made sure that place was "cool" but also kept prostitutes out.
Male staff was not only prohibited from dating the girls (for same reasons as above) but also barred from even talking to them about any non-business related matters. We were instructed to walk away if conversation turned into more than business-related kind. Anyone caught was immediately fired without even getting a last day's pay.
As a bouncer, you could make about $300/cash a night (pay, tips, etc) on a good night during the football season and not that many bouncers were willing to part with easy $1000 - $1500/week for a remote possibility of baning some stripper.
Most strippers who lasted were cold, hard snakes who knew how to play the customer just right to get what they wanted.
Funny enough, I went on to work in IT and about 8 years later, while working at big financial firm we got a sales rep from a big computer company. She was there on a pre-sales call to sell $150,000 worth of servers. Dressed to the 9's, nice revealing business suit, showing off her well-formed C cup and snuggling her butt like latex. She was certainly noticed by just about every breathing male in the room. She could have been selling ice to eskimos - they would have bought it on looks alone.
I had a pleasure of watching her in the meeting and recognized her as one of the girls that used to work in the place I used to work. After the meeting I talked to her outside, she didn't recognize me at first (or played well) but when I told her I remember her and from where - she turned red, closed her face and was completely speechless. I told her not to worry - I would not say anything to anyone but she was completely pwn3d.
It was funny. In retrospect, I should have blackmailed her for some ass but I decided better of it - decided sexual harrassment lawsuit and potential job loss would not be the best career move. Instead, settled for a good laugh with several of my work buddies. She never came back to sell anyting at my company anymore for some reason...

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| quote: | | No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true. |
--Steve Jobs (1955 - 2011)
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