DON'T LOVE THE BIG BOSS

I

lack fishnet stockings. A neon leather choker could be spotted on her neck which goes to show that she was going for a kinky, bondage vibe for the night. Her face was full

xico and leave off tacos and tequila kind of day.'" I

work today?" Claire asked giving me the ' know

Like, bitch, work is work. I would rather be in Europe right

club then? Why walk when you can fly, uh? I don't get why you keep doing three or more jobs when you can just b

trying to sound judgemental but stripping is just

better. Be right out on time too, Nate just employed a new shot girl and she seems like

horns. Being a shot girl is essentially the same as any other sales job, it was almost like a waitress job but we were using our personality to turn a profit. However, unlike most sales j

terview. I had walked into a cluttered manager's office, on the top floor, the manager took one look at me and then called a d

waitresses, dress them in some skimpy wears, ask them to work eight hours on their feet for minimum wage while the strippers make thousands upon thousands of dollars a night all around them, in th

ultaneously securing a small fortune. Waitressing at a strip club was easy, it gave me night hours so I could work more than one job at once and didn't

essing, nothing like stripping but twice the money you are making right now and thrice if you know your way." And after m

ial A-game as soon as you clock in. Simply batting your eyelashes doesn't work, because there's normally another girl selling shots in the sa

take the job, then you're doing a

couple of bankers locked into one of those weird macho competitions that revolve around trying to out-spend each other on Don Julio shots. And if you're willing to w

. It was tricky at first but as soon as I got better a

thing short of alluring. When I wasn't ringing up champagne rooms or slinging drinks, I leaned up against the bar and watched gorgeous women w

s favorite and he would wait for her, politely declining dance propositions from other women, until she was available. She would giv

sibly lonely, definitely sad and it was clear that spending thousands of dollars for a small portion of a stranger's time and attention made him feel better. A part of me assumed

they've seen at least twenty times. They'd come with a multitude of friends and they'd always be loud and they

I'd watch them as they signed their final bill, a sadness rushing to their cheeks, because they knew as well as I did that the allusion was coming to an end. T

ere and didn't fit into that kind of environment but, sadly, felt trapped by misguided obligation. If they said something, they we

tions or recent rejections on women they deemed "less than." These guys

that it was the only thing they were good at. Their self-esteem was tied securely to their body and their ability to use it. And sadly, I watched a few women who stripped because it was a means to an end and

y reminded