I have always been a night person. As a child my whole family would be asleep, but I would be up choreographing a dance routine, watching music videos, or reading erotic literature out of one of my father’s old “dirty magazines” he thought he had hidden from everyone. During the day I was reading Goosebumps, at night I was reading “Hustler Hot Letters” trying to figure out what a shaft and a clitoris were. I was a little pervert. Here’s the tea…
“Why don’t you sleep at night, it’s so hard to get you up in the morning.” my mother would yell at me. It just was not possible for me to go to bed. There was too much to do at night, that’s when I came alive. It has always been this way for me since I can remember. My father jokingly used to call me “Spot” after Eddie Munster’s pet dragon whose lair was under the stairs. “What do you do in the basement at 1AM?” they would ask. It never really bothered me that they thought I was a weirdo. I honestly think that’s why they weren’t very surprised when I finally came clean about my occupation as an exotic dancer. “Well, all the late night dance practice really came in handy.” was my mother’s response upon hearing this revelation.
When I entered the nightlife industry is when I started to meet more people like me. One significant person I met that I am still in contact with to this day is a woman named Isabella. Isabella was petite and gorgeous. She looked like Princess Jasmine. She was my partner in crime for many years as we hopped from Chicagoland strip club to club together. One of the first conversations we had that really stuck out was about growing up. I told her how I could never go to sleep and I would stay up all night making up dance routines. “Yeah, me too. And pretend you’re performing in front of an audience?” she said. I looked at her surprised. “YES!” I said, excited to have found someone that did things I used to do in the wee hours of the night.
I knew she wasn’t lying because whenever she called me it was at 2AM. I’m not sure if we ever even hung out in daylight, because we were always sleeping. It would be midnight and she’d call me to tell me she just woke up and to come over. She’d sit and smoke cigarette after cigarette, drinking Coke while I would drink my water and complain about Little Bosnia. We’d compare “classic Isabella and classic Kash stories” that consisted of us doing something absolutely ridiculous. We would talk about how screwed up the management at work at our current club (Diamonds) was. We would laugh for hours about random stuff that would happen to us at the club. She kept me in line somewhat because she didn’t drink or do drugs, she was a balance in that respect because I was friends with some party girls. We had a wonderful nocturnal bond. For once in my life at 3AM I wasn’t alone. I could always call Isabella. I knew she’d be awake with all the answers. #nowthatsthefuckingtea