F#ck@ng Strippers. G*dd^mn Lesbians.

Strippers are notorious for being no-shows, late, unkempt and even lazy.  Former strippers sometimes have a tendency to maintain some of those ill-gotten habits every once in a while.  While I have random moments of perfection, I confess.  I’ve been a bit sidetracked.

Life happens and what was happening in my life at that moment is no different from what is going on now: I am sincerely excited for what awaits me on the horizon.  No, I’m not moving but I am eager for new experiences, meeting new people, doing new things…doing new people.  Haha, I’m kidding.  I’m only doing one new person.  Yes, like any lesbian can tell you, getting a new girlfriend gives you amnesia when it comes to keeping up with your responsibilities.

I apologize.  I have missed you and I am eager to share what awaited me on the horizon back then.  Atlanta.  Hotlanta.  Mylanta.  I was working my buttinsky off (much like I am now, but with clothes on).  After my brush with the reality of my weight issue in Jen’s office, I was forced to face the facts: “Lose weight before the owners come in and see you and force me to fire you.”  I could lie and tell you that I told her to kiss my not-quite-fat-yet ass, but what good would that do, except to keep my blog ego intact?  Okay, I’m laughing too.  That deflated as soon as I divulged my run-in with running shorts guy.  Am I right?  I kept my head up, nodded, left and cried alone in my car.  Just like any self-respecting stripper would do.  But then I also did what any self-respecting woman is supposed to do: I got to working out.  But not for Jen and 2001 Odyssey, for myself and my future in Atlanta.

I worked out every single day.  And then I worked almost every single night.  The funny thing about working in the clubs is that when you set a goal that has absolutely nothing to do with the club, but more to do with getting out of the club, money just starts rolling in.  All of a sudden, I was lining them up and collecting the dough.  I was glowing.  The more I mentioned the move, the more money I seemed to make.

I called my friend in Atlanta – Lamar – who made plans to come to Tampa and help me pack and move.  I gave my apartment complex notice and paid them appropriate fees to break my lease.  I even signed a new lease on a place in Atlanta, sight unseen.  I know – when I make a decision, I just go for it.  But it was in Buckhead, which apparently, was where all the action happened.  There was no turning back.  D-day was in exactly six weeks.  D-day: otherwise known as ‘Damn, why am I doing this again – day’.  Of course, if I had anticipated the drama involved in getting me out of Tampa and into Atlanta, I may have ‘slowed my roll’ just a wee bit and saved myself a few headaches and another girl a potential ass-whooping.

3 thoughts on “F#ck@ng Strippers. G*dd^mn Lesbians.

  1. I previously left a comment but dont think it saved bc then i had to log in and i didnt see it. may be awaiting moderation. anyways…

    In proud of you! Follow your dreams! The way you handle your weight (potential weight issue) was inspiring.

  2. Glad to see I’m not the only one with weight issues but the way you handled it was inspiring. I think so often, we get stuck in a rut when it comes to dancing. It seems there will never be any end to the lifestyle. I am happy for you girlie! Follow your intuition and follow your dreams!

    • Thanks Southern! It’s so true about dancers getting stuck in a rut. We really do have to develop a thick skin, but we’re human and sometimes the constant rejection can sit heavily on us. Thanks so much for appreciating the situation I was in and glad to hear that I’m inspiring, lol…thanks for reading – have a really great weekend!

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