I was sitting on my homegirls couch, stressed out and tired.
It was hot. I remember it was summer time and the heat was blistering outside. I
wish I remembered what I had on, but I’ve had way cooler memories come in and
replace simple details like that.
I sat there, feeling defeated. It had been a really long
time since I had a job, and the one job I had at Forever 21 was NOT for me. I
am so not a retail girl, yet I have had plenty of retail jobs. I end up hating
them and quitting….every.single.time. Nothing was any different here. It had
been awhile since I had quite my job at Forever 21 in Castleton. I remember my
manager’s name was Kendra and she was a pudgy white woman who on one of the
last days before I threw in the towel, had me scraping gum off the floor with a
paint scraper. I will never forget being bent over, scraping this gum as hard
as I could (it was SUPREMELY stuck to the ground) and trying to fight the tears
that were forming. Is this what it has come to? Fuck the fact that I am working
at job designed for a teenager (I was about 24 years old) and nevermind the
crack of dawn I had risen to get there on time and get the store ready for the
10 am opening….nevermind the stress of inventory, which had only been about
week before, where I was counting pieces of clothes one by one; I was effin
scraping up gum. Like some type of disenchanted fallen Cinderella of Retail and
my wicked boss-sister thought that I was the one qualified to make sure no one
stuck to the floor as they moved around the store and got their credit cards
hot and steamy. It was all I could take. I didn’t stay much after that, but I
did complete the job ……
And then I quit.
I don’t remember if I gave a heads up or just stopped going.
I think I just stopped going. That shit took me out of my element (scraping
gum).
And now, here I was ….months later, sitting on my closest (and basically only)girlfriend’s couch about to drop a bomb on her that I had hoped it would not come back to…..I had given up and was about to head back to the club, and I wanted her to help me get back on. She was really cool with the manager so I thought she could give him a heads up that I was coming back....either that or I wanted her to feed me some better advice. Either way, I was a young woman with no future, no money, no job and for the most part, no friends.
...once upon a time, I had more friends....but over time and the course of the relationship I was in, I'd managed to put more than an acceptable distance between them and me. He didn't like me having friends. Period. I have tried to look at it other ways because it's really hard for me to envision myself as someone without friends due to someone else not wanting me to have them. But that was my truth. He had embarrassed me in front of people I hung out with and either I was too embarrassed to talk to them again or they didn't want to really fuck w/me like that...the only person he 'tolerated' around was coincidentally one of the women he would go on to sleep with. ....either way, the once semi-cool ex-stripper girl had come down to having virtually no one, and nothing.
But the one thing I knew how to do and that I knew would bring me monies was stripping. It was one of those jobs that was always open and if for some reason I couldn't start back working at the first club I started off at, I knew St Louis was a hop skip away.....but I needed to start with something steady and at home. I didn't have a car, so I couldn't just hit the road at my leisure or perhaps this conversation would have never happened. So, on this hot summer day, I dropped the bomb during girlfriend chat time..
“I think I’m gonna go back to the club and ask Johnny for my
job back”.
Johnny was the owner of the club. We had an ...interesting...relationship...soo to speak. I never slept with Johnny but from what I heard, lots of girls did. I guess I could see it because he was a cute baby faced white guy with a very nice smile. But there was nothing 'amazing' about him and his stomach was a lil pudgy. He wasn't that tall, but he did have dimples and lots of money. Johnny never tried nothing with me though and it's quite possible that as much as he wasn't MY type, I wasn't his. I remember being surprised the more I heard about him over the years....he seemed so 'innocent'...lol. Kind of like he just happened to own a strip club-type of innocence...I don't know, it probably makes no sense on the out looking in but the nonetheless, I had been fired from this club years prior. Yep, you too can get fired from the strip club! It was a lot of drama. Personality-wise, I think I was the same then as I am now; quiet, reserved and introverted yet life of the party, good time having, bubbly person to those I know and kick it with. TheBasement, or the dressing room, was pretty big, full of lockers and wrap around mirrors that had wood shelving beneath it. That was where girls took shots, did drugs, homework, called boyfriends and children and baby sitters on the pay phone. Then of course we argued and fought and laughed, cried and had damn good times. Some nights got wilder than others and on slow nights, it was no thing to see a girl stretched across four chairs fast asleep. I wonder if the club today is like that? We all had each other's back strong. Yeah we plotted and schemed together but we broke bread and closed caskets together as well. I wonder if the girls of today's strip club world are as close or as connected as we used to be? And with the age of money obsession, I wonder if they are driven beyond the club like so many of us were? Folks really were in school and trying to do better....women DO have goals of quitting and doing more. For every woman there who makes the choice to be involved in 'working' after hours or turning tricks in the table dance room (possibly really happened), there are five more who are sole providers of children or young women (like myself) exploring life's options. You can meet a girl with a pimp or one with a strong savings account. It takes a lot of trial and error to find out where you are supposed to be. For some of us, the trial and error was the club. I know of lawyers, doctors, artists, DJ's, engineers and teachers, public speakers and entrepreneurial go getters that were in the club with me in the early 2000s. They make me proud when I see them and I hope I do the same for them. I was inspired by many of them and still am. And for those who never left or ventured off deeper, I still have mad respect before because I know the game. I remember the life....and true to this blog topic, I know all too well how hard it is to struggle with 're-entry' back to normal.
The feeling of not being able to get a job (due to little to no employment background) or getting one and receiving that first check. Shrew.....Forever 21 was my first job afterwards. First check was less than 200. I felt disrespected. But I had too much pride to go back....at first.
I got fired for a rape-situation between some girls that I allegedly bore witness to. #ThatHappened. I'll say this: I never witnessed a rape but I did see stuff pop. Tons of us were fired and moved on to other clubs. I went east for awhile and then I returned back west. But I left again. My last year of dancing was a lot of flip flopping...I didn't know how that would sit with Johnny but I knew how it sat with me: pride killing. When I left there the final time, I vowed to never return. I don't even remember what happened but it was something. I'm glad I did, I'm very damn glad I left and never made it back. I missed seeing a good friend getting killed on the parking lot....the homegirl I was sitting with on this day of confession was there that night. She saw it. He actually stumbled along her car as he fell into his death.
.... ............but that was before this day.
that was before hiroshima hit Brendon Way Drive.
After I confessed the tepid desire to return to my stripper roots, my friend asked a few questions about my decision. She was trying to see how sure I was. And once I heard it come out of my mouth, I knew I had officially given up and was 100% sure. I continued to confirm that I had put a lot of thought into this and felt like I had no choice. I had tried my best to gain decent employment but the sharks were not biting for me. I had even taken an 'Administrative Professional Class'' that lasted for about 2.5 -3 weeks. Maybe even a month. I went three days a week, 8-4 and spent the day at some building out north with about 9 other people. We were being taught how to type (I didn't know how), as well as other 'things' they thought would help us gain administrative work. It was like $200 to take this class and my boyfriend paid for it. His name is #MuseRaggedyAndy. And having him pay that much money for me to do anything was another strain on our relationship. We had been living together for about 2.5 years I guess....but I had been without a job for the better of a year. I told him about this class and that they would help me find employment in hopes that it would tone some of our arguments down. He used to treat me so shitty. Seriously, not trying to be a victim, he just treated me shitty. After months went by and he was footing all the bills (while I helped raise his live in daughter in 100% place of her mom who was not around), he started to treat me like a lesser woman because I didn't have any money. He talked to me like this, called me out about it and laughed at me. I was severely depressed and hurting. I had taken the class and was supposed to receive a certificate but the classes stopped abruptly and they ended up being investigated by dude on Channel Six. Turned out, they were fraudulent and had gotten away with people's money....the teacher taught me how to know my keys tho. I was a heavy pecker on the keyboard, but she did effectively teach me how to learn where the keys were. I still couldn't type good, but I went on to teach myself in all my free time by using my 'stepdaughter's Barbie toy laptop. MuseRaggedyAndy threw it in my face about how I wasted money and still was a broke mf. Lol. By the time I having this conversation with my girlfriend, the r it was my very last hope.....i just don't know if I was trying to save me, or us.
"Well before you come back to the club, there is something I have to tell you"
..............that's when the ball started rolling and by the time it stopped, I was nothing short of killing myself.
TBC....................
Johnny was the owner of the club. We had an ...interesting...relationship...soo to speak. I never slept with Johnny but from what I heard, lots of girls did. I guess I could see it because he was a cute baby faced white guy with a very nice smile. But there was nothing 'amazing' about him and his stomach was a lil pudgy. He wasn't that tall, but he did have dimples and lots of money. Johnny never tried nothing with me though and it's quite possible that as much as he wasn't MY type, I wasn't his. I remember being surprised the more I heard about him over the years....he seemed so 'innocent'...lol. Kind of like he just happened to own a strip club-type of innocence...I don't know, it probably makes no sense on the out looking in but the nonetheless, I had been fired from this club years prior. Yep, you too can get fired from the strip club! It was a lot of drama. Personality-wise, I think I was the same then as I am now; quiet, reserved and introverted yet life of the party, good time having, bubbly person to those I know and kick it with. TheBasement, or the dressing room, was pretty big, full of lockers and wrap around mirrors that had wood shelving beneath it. That was where girls took shots, did drugs, homework, called boyfriends and children and baby sitters on the pay phone. Then of course we argued and fought and laughed, cried and had damn good times. Some nights got wilder than others and on slow nights, it was no thing to see a girl stretched across four chairs fast asleep. I wonder if the club today is like that? We all had each other's back strong. Yeah we plotted and schemed together but we broke bread and closed caskets together as well. I wonder if the girls of today's strip club world are as close or as connected as we used to be? And with the age of money obsession, I wonder if they are driven beyond the club like so many of us were? Folks really were in school and trying to do better....women DO have goals of quitting and doing more. For every woman there who makes the choice to be involved in 'working' after hours or turning tricks in the table dance room (possibly really happened), there are five more who are sole providers of children or young women (like myself) exploring life's options. You can meet a girl with a pimp or one with a strong savings account. It takes a lot of trial and error to find out where you are supposed to be. For some of us, the trial and error was the club. I know of lawyers, doctors, artists, DJ's, engineers and teachers, public speakers and entrepreneurial go getters that were in the club with me in the early 2000s. They make me proud when I see them and I hope I do the same for them. I was inspired by many of them and still am. And for those who never left or ventured off deeper, I still have mad respect before because I know the game. I remember the life....and true to this blog topic, I know all too well how hard it is to struggle with 're-entry' back to normal.
The feeling of not being able to get a job (due to little to no employment background) or getting one and receiving that first check. Shrew.....Forever 21 was my first job afterwards. First check was less than 200. I felt disrespected. But I had too much pride to go back....at first.
I got fired for a rape-situation between some girls that I allegedly bore witness to. #ThatHappened. I'll say this: I never witnessed a rape but I did see stuff pop. Tons of us were fired and moved on to other clubs. I went east for awhile and then I returned back west. But I left again. My last year of dancing was a lot of flip flopping...I didn't know how that would sit with Johnny but I knew how it sat with me: pride killing. When I left there the final time, I vowed to never return. I don't even remember what happened but it was something. I'm glad I did, I'm very damn glad I left and never made it back. I missed seeing a good friend getting killed on the parking lot....the homegirl I was sitting with on this day of confession was there that night. She saw it. He actually stumbled along her car as he fell into his death.
.... ............but that was before this day.
that was before hiroshima hit Brendon Way Drive.
After I confessed the tepid desire to return to my stripper roots, my friend asked a few questions about my decision. She was trying to see how sure I was. And once I heard it come out of my mouth, I knew I had officially given up and was 100% sure. I continued to confirm that I had put a lot of thought into this and felt like I had no choice. I had tried my best to gain decent employment but the sharks were not biting for me. I had even taken an 'Administrative Professional Class'' that lasted for about 2.5 -3 weeks. Maybe even a month. I went three days a week, 8-4 and spent the day at some building out north with about 9 other people. We were being taught how to type (I didn't know how), as well as other 'things' they thought would help us gain administrative work. It was like $200 to take this class and my boyfriend paid for it. His name is #MuseRaggedyAndy. And having him pay that much money for me to do anything was another strain on our relationship. We had been living together for about 2.5 years I guess....but I had been without a job for the better of a year. I told him about this class and that they would help me find employment in hopes that it would tone some of our arguments down. He used to treat me so shitty. Seriously, not trying to be a victim, he just treated me shitty. After months went by and he was footing all the bills (while I helped raise his live in daughter in 100% place of her mom who was not around), he started to treat me like a lesser woman because I didn't have any money. He talked to me like this, called me out about it and laughed at me. I was severely depressed and hurting. I had taken the class and was supposed to receive a certificate but the classes stopped abruptly and they ended up being investigated by dude on Channel Six. Turned out, they were fraudulent and had gotten away with people's money....the teacher taught me how to know my keys tho. I was a heavy pecker on the keyboard, but she did effectively teach me how to learn where the keys were. I still couldn't type good, but I went on to teach myself in all my free time by using my 'stepdaughter's Barbie toy laptop. MuseRaggedyAndy threw it in my face about how I wasted money and still was a broke mf. Lol. By the time I having this conversation with my girlfriend, the r it was my very last hope.....i just don't know if I was trying to save me, or us.
"Well before you come back to the club, there is something I have to tell you"
..............that's when the ball started rolling and by the time it stopped, I was nothing short of killing myself.
TBC....................
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