Strippers

Went to dinner with my step-daughter last night. It is clear that should we talk about the profession she is now eager to join, she prefers the term "exotic dancing".

I like the term "whoring".

My husband explained to me, that out of all the girls he has seen stripping, only two really stick in his mind. They were both very good at what they did and they were making loads of money.

"Were they really pretty?" I asked, thinking that the prettier you are, the more the men will desire you. It was my guess that in a strip club the prettiest girls make the most money.

He said that yes, they were pretty, but that a lot of pretty girls strip, and being pretty does not guarantee success.

It was the way the girls acted that made them stick out in my husband's memory. The main thing that these girls knew to do was to touch themselves. Mike said that most strippers observe an almost unconscious boundary when they preform, they don't touch themselves. And if they do touch themselves it is only half-hearted, the touching is furtive and with no consequences. But the girls who were stripping and making the most money not only touched themselves, they seemed to derive great pleasure from making masturbation public. My husband explained that when a girl is simulating having sex with herself it greatly helps the men watching imagine that they themselves are having sex with her. Not only do they feel like active participants, but if the girl is into it, there is no question of rejection, she is ripe and ready and would take anyone on as a partner.

"Whores and strippers would tell you that there is a big difference between them" my husband said to me. "Nothing goes into a stripper, there is no exchange of bodily fluid."

"Is that the only difference?"

"Isn't it a big one?"

"I don't know. But if London strips she then falls pretty much into the social category of trash. Stripping is considered only one step up from being a whore."

"I know that I could never date a stripper" my husband said. "And I can't imagine liking any of the men who will date her knowing that she is a stripper. A good man would want to protect her and save her from having to strip."

I found a tone of moderation. "I think London wants to have an adventure. She sees this as one big adventure. But when her rear end is naked and she is wiggling it in a drunken man's face, the thrill will get old fast."

I wondered, if she does like stripping, what that says about her. Maybe it will give her a sense of power over men. Maybe she enjoys acting, even when it is touching yourself and pretending you are having a great time doing it. Maybe her sexuality is wired differently and in front of an audience is the only time she can have a great time touching herself. Maybe she has really low self-esteem and having men desire her fills a need. Do strippers feel cherished or dirty? I guess it could go either way depending on the mentality of the stripper.

London says that stripping is the only way she can pay to go to school for nursing and meet her needs for food and rent. I wonder how much the new found enthusiasm for stripping is a result of looking for a long time for a job and not finding one. She doesn't like the place where she is currently working, even though the pay is really good. Her main complaint? They make her work too hard. She has been putting out resumes with no luck. I believe that part of the reason she is having trouble getting hired is the way she dresses and her hair. Her hair is blond on top, dark brown on the bottom with streaks of red. She doesn't present herself in a way that says "office manager" or "bank teller".

I have worked in a museum and at the luxury retail store Lord n' Taylors. The first summer that I tried to get a job at Lord n' Taylors I failed the interview. The next summer I went back and interviewed again, only this time, I wore my mother's dress. She had bought it at Lord n' Taylors, I know because there was a label inside the collar that said Lord n' Taylor. I got the job that second time. That summer I mostly dressed punky and funky, except when I went to work. Then I played dress-up, wore my mother's clothes, and bought some new clothes made out of my favorite fabric, silk. I don't know if you can get any classier than silk.

One the day that we were to have dinner with London my husband came home from work and I asked him to change the cat box which had begun to smell. He hesitated and pointed out all the things that he does around the house like washing the dishes and vacuuming. Shouldn't I have a responsibility too like changing the cat box? I told him if he changed the cat box then later that night I'd give him a BJ. That worked. He immediately changed the cat box without anymore complaint. Sex for a favor. Did I whore myself?