Raised right, gone wrong...

I've been busy. And I've also been trying to stay cool in this fucking heat. I dance at night and during the day, I sleep in my very, very dark bedroom next to the AC which runs full blast. AC is crucial in Florida. I know a few people who try and live without it (too much money for them to run), but baby, I gotta have my cool air. And yeah, I'm a homegrown country girl from Georgia, but no way am I trying to sleep in this heat and humidity.

Ok, apart from that...I've been working the summer crowds of drunk young men. Last night one of the girls I work with got so drunk that when she was getting dressed in the locker room, she dropped sixteen $100 bills on the floor!! I picked them up and gave them back to her, but some of the girls gave me shit for this. They would've kept the money. Bitch deserved it, one said to me.

Look, I may be struggling with my spiritual place in life, but I was raised right, for the most part. My folks are Christian and I felt like if I hadn't given the money back, my dad would've been disappointed. Not that my folks and I talk much anymore. They obviously have "issues" with what I do. I've gone the wrong path in life.

But hey, it keeps the AC on.

On another note, do you think I would be a better minister if I were Christian? The funeral I officiated at got me thinking about a lot of things. Maybe there is an afterlife and maybe I will see my friends again.

I kept my reading close to the heart about who my friend really was and did some readings from the Minister's Service Manual:

"What was his creed?
I do not know his creed, I only know
That here below, he walked the common road
And lifted many a load, lightened the task,
Brightened the day for others toiling on a weary way;
This, his only meed; I do not know his creed."

Ok, so I gotta ask though....what is the meaning behind meed? Isn't that supposed to be mead? As in the drink?

Anyway, we did scatter his ashes from horseback. I went inward after getting back from N. Carolina so I could process what happened. And make some money.

I ended up with plenty last night. Gotta keep it going. BTW..what think you all of my new UV light costume? Guys were loving this late last night....

My first go as a Universal Life Church Minister

I think I did ok for my first time being a minister. I officiated a funeral for my friend in North Carolina and I studied a lot of the books I got from the ULC's website and I think in the end, it all went pretty well. Actually, the whole process has made me question my atheist beliefs. Nothing like death, right?

Now I have to work all weekend to get some money. It's so fucking hot in Florida too. I'm sortof used to it...but it's annoying because when I go to work, I have to dance under these super bright stage lights. Ugh. NO ONE looks good under stage lights. And I sweat and my makeup runs. There's no escape.

If the shoe fits...

Men with shoe fetishes come with the territory. Last night I had a fairly regular customer come in. He's a surgeon. Anyway, he comes over to my station and says. "I want lap dances tonight. Lots of them!" Which is just fine by me. Except with him, he likes it when I wave my shoes in his face and let him lick my toes. That's his version of a lap dance. Oh, and being told what to do. He likes to be dominated.

All in a night's work. As I was getting off, he got my email. Today he sent me an email gushing about this and that and wanting me to come over to his place this week for more foot fetish fun. Here's the way I look at it...easy money. No sex, no weirdness....just my feet and him and his wallet.

Hey, I don't really get it. It's not something that gets me going. But still...thank God for foot fetishes!

Liabilities....

Stripping makes you so hard. It has to. It's like that pair of ten-inch Alexander McQueen shoes. Until your soles get calloused solid, it's going to hurt like hell to walk in them.

I like it to hurt. I like to be human. I don't want to get hard.

A job like this has multiple liabilities: the first is that you lose the understanding of what a dollar means. You can't help it. Four minutes of your time are twenty bucks, and then thirty bucks is discounted at two hundred and sixty. So, yeah, four half-hour VIPs and you're already making more than people who make $20 per hour are making per week! It's some serious cash folks. So before you go and trot out your pitchforks and rake ME over the coals for defiling the body God gave me and shit, think about it....GOD his very self did just that. He GAVE me this body. To use how I want. Sigh.

Anyway, you start looking at everything around you in terms of VIP gigs—a pair of Christian Louboutin high heels with red soles? That's a little more than a one-hour VIP. And rent is just three one-hour VIP dances. Hell, you KNOW how fast you can line up those VIP dances. No biggie.

This is when you realize you have been indoctrinated into The Stripping Life.

The second liability is what it does to your perception of men. In short, it really, really fucks it up. Let's face it, if you're a good looking woman, you know what it means to have so many possibilities you spend your entire life shopping for someone better. It's just like that. You have men all over you all day and night long. But this eventually conspires to suffocate you. And your sense of tenderness and intimacy. And well, your friendships are guarded too.

But this is why I had made friends with my friend who is now dead. He was someone I would never sleep with, whom I knew wouldn't try shit with me and who was respectful. Sure, sure...I met him in a strip club too. I didn't say he wasn't human. But he was one of the men I trusted is all I'm saying. Him and Jimmy (hi Jimmy!).

Anyway, the second stage, on the other hand, hits you like a damn wall and it's called doubt. Do they really like you or do they just want to fuck you like everyone else? Do they really know you or are you playing the role of someone else like you do for a dance? How do you know they mean the shit they say when you hear the same shit a hundred times every night from drunk men you end up never seeing again? The answer is, of course, that you don't. And probably never will so it's much easier to stick with doubt and perhaps even Certainty. Certainty that people in your life are completely insincere and fucked up.

Mix in a hearty dose of Resentment, Bitterness, and Rage and you get heartbreak; which is where I'm at.

The worst part is a combination of the above two things. When I was younger, an older woman stripper friend advised me to accept every date with cute, rich guys. “Why not?” she reasoned. “It's a free dinner.” I always thought this was a terrible deal—put up with someone talking with you for a few hours for food? WTF??? When you're younger and have nothing to do, it doesn't matter so much. But as reality seeps in and time becomes a luxury, the idea of trading in your time for dinner becomes less and less appealing, even if it is the newest restaurant in town.

When you dance, weekends are out of the question, to start. Right off the bat, this dude is costing you at least six hundred big ones. Is he worth it? This is why so many girls go into escorting. Until you try, you have no idea how many men will hand you money after you tell them, “I can't. I work every night. One date night is $800 less for me and I need that $800.” It's a small step to negotiating the price of sex after that. One time, I totaled my car in a drunk driving accident and I didn't have a car to get around and my driver wasn't here either. So one of my clients gave me $5,000 that night to “fix” the problem.

I took it.

But yeah, when you're off work, then with some of the guy I go out with, it's like suddenly you're not dating, you're working. These men aren't boyfriends, they're tricks.

This is Loneliness.

I don't want to get hardened. I don't want to forget the value of money or lose sight of what genuine connection feels like. So yeah, now I'm raw from a friend's death. I'm thinking about my place in the world as a Universal Life Church minister. I'm thinking about my place in the world as a stripper. I'm thinking about my place in the world as a person...who needs the basics.

Yeah.

Life goes on....

Well, it's been a hell of a week. My friend passed away two days ago. And this isn't the only friend I've lost in the last few months. Another one died after getting an infection while undergoing cancer treatments. Shit. This life thing is difficult and hard. His wife has asked me if I would officiate the funeral. Why not? He was a good friend and he never judged me by what I did.

Actually, we met a long time ago as he was one of my clients at a club I was working at. I never did lap dances for him or anything...he was older than me too. But after he'd been in a few times, I met him outside of work for a drink and we really connected. As friends. I mean I was married at the time. This was when I used to live in Miami (another long story). Anyway, he taught me how to handicap horses (this was his job at the time...a handicapper with the track before he retired). Anyway, we used to go down to the track and it was so much fun to see how he did it. We often won too. It was a looong ass time before he finally got around to telling his wife he'd befriended a stripper. And she wasn't exactly thrilled about our friendship either. But we continued being friends, I even met his daughter (who became a friend too). Some years went by, I lost my husband, moved to Panama City and his family moved to North Carolina... But we kept in touch.

So I'm going back at the end of the week to officiate his funeral. My first one. I'm super nervous and now I'm going to sit down with Jimmy and figure out how to do this. Maybe there are tutorials on line? So yeah, my first debut as a Universal Life Minister...and it's a funeral of one of my best friends.

Any suggestions? He wasn't strictly Christian, but he did believe in God and an afterlife.... Which is something I'm starting to question.

Stripper minister....

Now this is pretty cool. Something in line with what I'M hoping to do. I LOVE HER! You go girl!

Death comes in many forms....

So I've got to fly to North Carolina tomorrow to see my friend who's been put into the hospice.  God, this is awful.  I was NOT focused on my shift last night.  Though I will say the world's creepiest guy was focused on me.  He paid well, I'll give him that.  And he wasn't a grease ball.  He had money, gold watch, nice clothes...and he was alone.  Just sat there next to my station and paid for a few dances.  He smelled like fucking Ax Body Spray or something.

The creepy part about him was his staring.  Cold, calculated eyes.  Dead eyes.  I'd rather have a nervous drunk any day...

Back to my friend...if any of my new minister friends have sage advice in how I can best be there for him as someone who wants to use all her life experiences to start her own ministry, then please email me or leave a comment.  I'm nervous about seeing him, but I've been through a lot of bad things in life...so I'm not naive.  I lost my husband and I never thought I'd get over that, to be honest.

But I'm too young to be losing friends.  Aren't we all? Death comes in many guises.  From the guy last night inhabiting a living body to the specter knocking at my friend's door.

Life is short...so I gotta find a date

ok.  I'll admit it.  It's hard keeping up a blog.  I don't have to be at work for a few hours and it's hot as fuck out right now, so I'm pecking away at the keys now.  I like this keeping a diary online bit because it does remind me, day to day, of what I think I want to do....  And what I've actually done.  Yeah...

Anyway, I just found out my friend is gravely ill.  and it's really thrown me for a loop.  He was fine until a month ago.  then he lost all this weight (like 30 lbs) and had trouble breathing.  He wrote me a few emails talking about how scared he was feeling and I wrote back saying I was thinking about him and I was sure he would be fine.  Then they got him to the hospital and he was put into the ICU.  I didn't know this and just thought he was recuperating.  I called his wife yesterday asking how he was doing and she said he'd gone to the ICU.  And that he has Lou Gehrig's diesease.  Fuck!

They are moving him to a hospice to die on Wed.  How has this happened?  This also challenges my whole approach to wanting to minister to people.  I got this minister's handbook from the Universal Life Church, and in it there's a chapter on "The Minister Serves in Time of Illness, Trouble, or Sorrow."

There's this bit about what to do and say (mostly prayers) when someone is in the hospital, but it's really geared for Christians, and my friend isn't a christian.  So I don't know.  Perhaps the best thing I can do is visit him soon...  That's so hard though, you know?  But I wouldn't want to be in an hospice knowing my time was up and not say goodbye to people.  It affects everyone differently though.

I feel like I should write my OWN prayers and whatnot.  But I don't know if I'm a good enough writer for that sort of thing.  Thinking about all of this and my friend is depressing, but it needs thinking about too.

On another note...  I've decided that while I'm alive, it's time I got back out there and met some men again.  I think I mentioned I was married once before, but he was killed a few years ago.  I've been gun shy ever since.  I know the assumption is that since I'm a stripper, dating ain't no big thing.  But that's not true...  We do meet a LOT of creeps though.  I'm looking not to meet a creep.  Maybe I'll get lucky like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman...hahaha!

What a weird day.  I just hope my night isn't.

Business Plan...

So I worked hard all weekend...which is to say I was asleep by four or five and woke at noon each day.  I'll admit that thinking about leaving this life behind for my ministry business scares me.  I was thinking about all this when I ran across this article on someone who started a similar enterprise in California.

It's different from what I'm hoping to do with my ministry program.  I want to be able to marry people and offer solid advice based on a lifetime of experience with the darker underbelly of human nature.  In other words, I've seen some of the bad people are capable of and I can at least help people be good, can't I?  Do I have to have Jesus to do this?

I've been participating in some discussions with other people who got ordained through the Universal Life Church like I did and it's a mixed bag of opinions.  There are a lot of Christians over there and they are trying to educate me about Jesus and his purpose.  But, I'm still not sure if I get it, or if I will.  I guess, I'm not going to worry about it too much right now because it doesn't change the fact that I'm an ordained minister and that I'm sincere in wanting to marry people, baptise folks and all that.

As I've mentioned, i live among rednecks here in Panama City, Florida.  and one thing they hate are the gays around here.  So I'm wondering if I should start advertising my stripper ministry services within the gay community first.  Like would someone pay me to travel to states where it's legal so I could marry them?  that would be cool.

I'm not doing this for the money though.  trust me.  Stripping pays more than most will ever make.  But let's be honest, I won't have these looks for life....

Here's an excerpt from that article....sounds like I should get in touch with these ladies to see what challenges I'm gonna face doing this whole thing...

THERESA BROWN HAS SEEN the American experience from both sides. Growing up in Clairemont, the brunette with dark brown eyes was attractive and alert. She had two older sisters, a kid brother, and she did well in school. In many ways, she was the prototypical California girl.
But behind the cheery veneer lay a childhood scarred by her parents’ broken marriage, alcohol abuse and codependency. The future became less a dream and more a plan for escape. And then, when she was 21, an unexpected pregnancy.
“It wasn’t planned,” Brown says with a smile. “But then, you never regret the kids you have.” Her son is now 9 and one of the foundational elements in her life——along with God and her work at the stripper ministry.
At its etymological level, “ministry” is derived from “minister”——to give aid or service. Brown defines the stripper ministry as an organized group of people with a common goal. It comprises more than 150 women who reach out to other women in the adult-entertainment industry. The target group is strippers and dancers, but outreach is widening to those in the escort and soft-porn industries——populations that have intimate ties to stripping, Brown says.
The 30-year-old launched the San Diego chapter of JC’s Girls (JC is for Jesus Christ) through the Rock Church last year. She was drawn into the underbelly of America’s thriving adult-entertainment industry 11 years ago through what appeared to be a benign introduction to striptease dancing. It’s almost impossible, however, to stay in the industry without being drawn into an associated profligate lifestyle, Brown says.

Stripper Ministries...a different kind of party.

Last night I got into work a little late (I blame this on my new addiction to writing out blog posts and obsessively checking the grammar to make sure i get it right before throwing it up on the web).  Frank was pissed at me, but fuck him.  Stripping often feels like this obligatory party one must attend night after night, week after week.  You get on your party dress, have a few shots, shake your ass and your tits and pull some moves on that pole.  And that pole is my gym membership by the way.  Keeps me fit.

Anyway, Penni wasn't working with me last night and there was some bitchy new girl who just kept giving me the stink eye.  Like who is she anyway?  But I got my makeup on and got out there.  I don't know why, but Weds are crowded.  Lots of guys were out.  And I made some good cash.

But his new chick looked liked she was WORKING.  Not like she was having any kind of fun.  You know what?  No one likes a downer at the party.  You know the type...the one who stands by the chips all night long and complains.  Or who says to everyone "don't eat the blue acid".  After everyone's eaten the blue acid.

I have a good smile to go with my assets and I use everything.  Came home with good money last night too.  But I'm bored with stripping.  No, i don't go telling everyone this at work, but my friends know it.  I'm tired of going to the party and being the entertainment.  Truth is, I don't want to end up like miss Debbie Downer from last night.

I'm giving some serious thought to a side business now.  I know I keep talking about how I'm a minister with the Universal Life Church and all that...but I'm thinking of a little Las Vegas in Panama Beach.  Like Stripper Ministries or something.  Where I could run things from my apartment, marry people, offer spiritual counseling and even do baptisms.  i know.  i know.  It sounds crazy.  But before you all trot out the pitchforks...think about it.  Who would YOU rather have in your baptism photo?  A priest or a hot stripper anointing you in your baptism photo.  Let's be honest.....that picture would get a lot more mileage, wouldn't it.

Getting ready for work...

I've been whining all day about the heat.  It's so goddamned hot here in florida.  But I was thinking about the rituals a stripper goes through.  Like packing my bag.  In go the Platform Sandals...they are black and have "Skull Lights" in the heels.  guys love these.  And then my romper, my short shorts, and my various tops.  Gotta put my makeup on there, it'll melt off in this fucking heat here.

The locker room is a weird place in a strip joint.  You leave the emotions outside.  The girls all getting into the mindset.  Maybe one or two coming off shift are pissed off about their tips.  They count their money on the benches.  Penni's working tonight.  She's been fired twice now for dealing weed and pills in the locker room, but she seemms to make it back in.  The girls deal with the life in different ways.  Me?  i knock back a shot or two and that's it.  When I'm ready to go, I hit that floor and move between the different stations and I just get into the zone.

Almost all those guys are regulars.  I have exactly one stalker.  Most girls do.  Jimmy you hear me?  You need to watch out for that guy tonight, ok?  LOL.  for the most part, the guys are ok.  I hope they throw some money at me tonight.  I want to get some hair extensions soon.

What would Jesus tip?

Last night, I had to work some private parties. This happens a lot and it's good because it means more money. But some of these private parties are downright weird, as I'm sure y'all can imagine. Sometimes, I work these shindigs with my girlfriend Penni Pandora and tonight it looked like it was going to be the both of us. We got ready at my place and Jimmy picked us up at nine. The party was at a house way out in the burbs.

When we got there, I was able to immediately tell what kind of dudes we were dealing with...white rednecks. There were big trucks parked in the driveway and down the street. When we got in there, I could see the guys were all in their twenties. Which I don't like because I'm thinking in terms of tips. Black guys will tip, white rednecks in their twenties don't.

Anyway, the dancing was fine. It was a bachelor party, so Jimmy got the money up front. There was a lot of beer, some which got spilled on us. And we were there for all of two hours and I went home with $150. Not bad. Not great. Like I said, better tips would have been nice.

Here's the thing, these boys were Christians. Or at least there were bibles in the house and a large cross in the living room with a rebel flag to boot. Do you think they really go to church or practice at being good Christians? No. They do practice at being good 'ole boys though. What Jesus do? Would he hire strippers? See this is why I have a hard time with the whole belief system. So much hypocrisy. And I'm betting, if my tip jar (what they stuff into my g-string) was any indication, they don't put much into the collection plate on Sundays either.

**** Jimmy (he helps me write this stuff) says if you are interested in hiring me and Penni for private parties, you should drop us an email.

Strippers for Jesus...

Everyone has an opinion on strippers.  It's not really a neutral subject, you know?  You either hate them or love them.  But strippers are people too.   We have feelings, friends, families, lovers, children.  Some of us go to church even.  I know a lot of strippers who love Jesus.  Strippers for Jesus.  This is NOT unusual.  There are even HOOKERS for Jesus (see above photo).

Me?  I'm neutral on that subject.  I went through a lot of guilt when I was in high school because I had an abortion, but in my defense, the guy was in his twenties and he ended up over in Iraq where he was killed. He was killed later though, after the abortion.  But when I had it I had to go with my mother and she was so disappointed in me and she prayed I would find Jesus.

I just remember staring at Jesus hanging on the cross that was on my wall after the surgery and crying...thinking he was the eyes of the world and he could see me.  That everyone could.  Then I stopped believing and life got better.

So here I am, taking it all off at night and swinging on my stripper pole.  A guy came in last night.  He had these eyes...creepy, you know?  Like someone who crawled out of a meth trailer somewhere in the swamp.  He had me lap dance for him and he gave my a $500 tip!  Wanted me to meet him at the motel.  Jimmy usually handles that stuff (can't tell you who Jimmy is or how that works obviously) but I didn't go.  Now, I'm scared some meth freak will be waiting for me after work.   With that dark greasy hair and meth eyes.  Ugh!

So as you can see, this lifestyle is no picnic.  But I did pay my rent and the cable bill, so there!

I'm thinking I want to take my ministry to the next level as what I do outside of work.  I'm a Universal Life Church Headquarters minister and I want to marry  people.  You might not believe it, but it happens all the time in my business.  Maybe one of the girls wants to get married to some rich foreigner to get him a green card.  Or maybe a vacationing couple wants a hot stripper wedding.  I can do it!  I'm your girl!

But what I really would like to have are video tutorials on how to become a minister and do it right.  Should I be asking the happy couple questions before marrying them?  Should I guide them in writing or renewing their vows?  How does it work?  I want to advertise my services, but I'm a bit at a loss....  Grrrrr....  Hopefully it will all become clearer one day, right?

Maybe in my next post, I'll tell you about the time I was married.  yeah, that's right.  Little ole me!

Life in the Redneck Riviera....

So I woke up viciously hung over this morning.  And I rolled over to find a tall, beefy redneck I apparently brought home with me!  Shit.  How had this happened?  Where had it all gone south?  He was even sporting a mullet.  A crudely smudged tattoo of a clown...a CLOWN...glowed in gaudy reds and blues between his shoulders.

Which led me to contemplate, what sordid events led to his getting a clown tattoo?  Had it been a drunken dare?  Perhaps something more noble?  Like being in the military and stationed overseas where clown tattoos were the "in" thing?  But, let's be honest, the real question was right in front of me.  How had I let this into my bed?

It probably started last night when I was with Bobby and Kelly on the beach with our Cuba Libres while we sparked up a few joints.  We like to go out there while the sun sets and get ready for our evenings out.  And who am I?  Well, they call me Dixie.  I do a lot of things...right now I dance and I shake my ass and the money, lord, it comes rolling in!

How did I end up in Panama City, Florida?  Long fucking story.

Here's the nearby wharf though...

I'm a girl with humble beginnings.  My parents breed dogs and my mom works as a waitress at a Waffle House.  I grew up near Rome, Georgia and I guess its claim to fame is a big Christian college and a road called Seven Bridges Road.  The thing about this road is it has seven bridges when you drive west on it, but if you turn around and head back east, you only cross six bridges.

I was raised in the Bible belt and all of that has conspired to make me a complete heathen.  An atheist, even.  Although, I AM an ordained minister.  No, seriously I am!  There's this church in Seattle called the Universal Life Church Monastery that totally let me ordain myself online and voila!  I have the wallet card to prove it.  Oh, and a Clergy Parking Pass.  I keep waiting for a useful moment to whip that out and use it.  Is it like handicapped parking?

Anyway, last summer, I married one of my professional dancer friends to a Jewish guy who came down here on vacation and stayed.  They got divorced a few months later, but she made out like a bandit anyway.

So I moved here to Florida for the ocean and sun, but also because I ended up in a little bit of trouble when I told the local Baptist minister to go fuck himself after he got a lap dance from me and didn't tip.  Thing is, I didn't tell him to go fuck himself where I worked at the time, but rather in a very public place when I ran into him a week later.  And well, the cat was kind of out of the bag as to what I did for a living and all.....

But apparently, I have yet to escape the rednecks.

What I remember about last night was getting a text from Bobby.  Then rum and coke and limes were appearing at my front door.  Then we were on the beach drinking and fending off the humidity.

This was all well and good, but the sun set.  And we just had to go out..and so we did to the Back Door.  And that's where I met the redneck.  His name was Johnny.  Which was fine until he pushed it further by stating his name was really Johnny B. Goode.  Really?  You'll have me believe your folks did that to you?  But he stuck to his story which was helped along by many more Cuba Libres, shots of tequilla and joints smoked back out on the beach later.

And if y'all are wondering how to get rid of a redneck in the morning....NPR is the answer.  I turned that shit up real loud and he looked baffled, mumbled something about a great time and scurried out the door.

Such is life in the Redneck Riviera.

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