Today Samantha, the stripper that never was, is going to tell her story. I have heard a variation of this story many times from different girls that chicken out right before they go or work one night and decide it’s not for them. Here’s her tea…
Hello World! I’m Samantha. This is my story. I am a natural born hustler. I have inherited the gift of gab from my mom. I can sell anything. I am a saleswoman in a male dominated industry and I kill it. I was 19 and my friends were all stripping. I was going to make so much money, or so I thought.
My two best friends Debbie and Kathy were killing it at the clubs. I remember going to their apartment watching them count their money.
I was not making that kind of money. I was working retail and going to school. I was going to be a fashion designer the next Chanel or Donnatella Versace.
I wanted to make money like my friends. I am going to strip and kill it! I talked to my girls and asked them a million questions about dancing.
We were smoking our usual blunt. They were all about it. “Girl, you are going to make so much money!” they told me. You can get everything you want. It is easy and you don’t have to get naked. SOLD!
I decided to do it. We drove to the club. I remember seeing the big parking lot and the huge sign Heavenly Bodies! We walked into the dark club where a cute young girl greeted us.
This is our girl, she wants to dance.
“Ok take her to the office.” she said. I walked in and another woman greeted me. She asked for my ID and handed me an application. I filled it out and handed it to her.
“Ok hunny you have to strip down to your bra and panties.” she said. I was mortified. Those two didn’t tell me I had to take off my clothes in the interview. I didn’t even have on matching bra and panties. I took off my clothes and acted like I wasn’t going to pass out and die.
“Do you know how to dance on the pole?” she asked. “No” I replied.
“Ok we can get you some lessons on pole work. Please stand over here so I can take your picture for our file.” she instructed.
I stood there smiled a big cheesy smile. I tried very hard to look like I was not going to faint. ‘You’re hired.” she said. Wow that was easy.
“Can you start tomorrow?” she asked. I told her I could. I had a whole day to prep.
We walked out and smoking a cigarette. My friends were so excited. “Ok, what’s going to be your stage name?” Kathy asked. “Chanel!” I replied. It was perfect!
The next day I hung around my house. I was extremely nervous.
I called my best friend Debbie.
“Girl, I am nervous.” I said. “I was too you will be fine. We will smoke before you go in to calm you down.” Debbie said.
I agreed. I took a shower and shaved my whole entire body. I was in my robe and laying in my bed. My nerves kicked in. What the fuck am I doing? What if I see someone I know? What if my family finds out? What if I fall off the stage? My stomach was in knots.
I tried to get myself up to go and blow dry my hair, but instead I puked. I worked myself so bad there was no calming me down.
Now I’m on the bathroom floor having a panic attack. I can’t do it. Why can’t I do it? I want to make money! I reasoned with myself.
I was laying on the floor. Debbie and Kathy are calling me.
“I puked! I can’t go I am too nervous.” I told them. “Go without me!” I said. I layed in my bed feeling like a failure, I was so hyped yesterday.
The club called me several times. At that moment I knew my stripper career had ended before it even started. I believe there is a “Stripper Gene” and I unfortunately do not have it. #nowthatsthefuckingtea