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I am a stripper.

I am a stripper.

After my day job, while the civilians of Lawrence, Kansas kick off their work shoes and unwind in front of the television, I skip this after-work ritual and shower. I scrub (hard), shave, wax, and shape. I moisturize, polish, and blow-dry. I exchange a button-down shirt and Ann Taylor office slacks for track pants and a t-shirt. I load an arsenal of make-up, fishnets, and caffeinated drinks into my car. Monster bottle of ibuprofen? Check. Tupperware container with homemade dinner to-go? Check. Studded belt of vicious discipline and fury to use on customers who tip me on stage? Check. I love Mondays.

I'm not even halfway there and I have a sh*t-eating grin from ear to ear. Yay! How many people get to smoke and drink at work and beat up their customers (when I feel like it, of course!)--all without getting fired? Since I started stripping on May 5, 2009, the job I thought would be a complete nightmare has only gotten more and more fun. I love it. It has been six months as of November 5th and the novelty remains. ::squeal::

I take 15th Street toward the cornfields of conservative Middle America and blast Rob Zombie, gyrating and swaying behind the steering wheel. The adrenaline rush intoxicates. My pulse picks up. I can never wait to get on stage to jump, spin, and dance to my favorite new songs to impress customers! I enjoy that I'm no longer the anonymous nonprofit office professional; instead, I'm now adrenaline-fueled Anna, mistress of fantasy.

Stripping feels amazingly different than I expected. What I was brought up to see as humiliating now feels so exciting and empowering. At a place we will affectionately refer to as the East Lawrence Ballet (ELB), I'm on top of customers physically and as well as in conversation. I have at least something most of them want: a pretty face to look at, skillful repartée, and other desirable aspects of the girlfriend (or even just friend) experience. A professional party girl, I gently but firmly guide every interaction from clever "pick-up" lines, through entertaining anecdotes and engaging conversation, to buying a lap dance. The challenge is a fun one and I have a great time doing it.

When the road turns from pavement to dirt I always start hopping around, (even in my seat!), anticipating the challenge and the fun that comes with this culturally underground job. It is then, off this dirt road, at this "East Lawrence Ballet," that I don huge high heel shoes, smile, entertain, and take off my clothes for tips. It's like a game, and I love it. Love it.

I am not here to tell you how to feel about me, or my job. I am not here to tell you anything at all, really. Rather, I am writing this blog to show you stripping in Lawrence, Kansas, and offer you a source of information on an industry that appears at once both over- and under-exposed.

There is a lot to write.

To Be Continued…


As I promised to a specific group of Craigslisters: Please indulge in some spelling help and some grammar pointers. (Sorry! LJ-W doesn't appear to care for HTML).

http://news.zdnet.co.uk/itmanagement/0,1000000308,39273376,00.htm

http://grammar.ccc.commnet.edu/grammar/commas.htm

November 3, 2009

Anna Undercover