Tuesday, February 9, 2016

"How I Went From Being His Stripper To Being His Wife"

(Since I'm on vacation I can't participate in the TMI Tuesday meme this week)

I saw this in The Huffington Post, and they'd taken it from Your Tango... the latter is an unabashed clickbait site with HuffPo increasingly moving in that direction too IMO - but then that seems to be how 'journalism' is moving these days. All headlines seem to start with "How I/He/She..." or "You Won't Believe..." these days.

Anyway, I wanted to share an excerpt from this story by blogger Alex Alexander because I'm just a little bit skeptical about it - it just seems too good to be true, based on my brief experience working in a strip club in my youth. Maybe she just embellished it to make it more readable? Either way in the greater scheme of things it doesn't matter and I'm happy it all worked out for her.

My comments on her comments come after this pictorial interlude:

Elizabeth Berkley keeps it classy in 'Showgirls'
I was working the day-shift as a "dancer" in a very high-class gentlemen's club downtown. The daytime girls were different than the nighttime girls; we weren't there for the drunken buddies, bikers or creepy wandering perverts. We were the girls next door, America's sweethearts -- classy and sassy but well-behaved. All sorts of men came through the door during the day. There were locals, lobbyists, politicians, attorneys, out-of-towners, and businessmen who wrote off strip-clubs as a business expense.
Okay, so you were a 'nice girl' doing the lunchtime shift for classy men - unlike those 'nasty girls' who did the night shift for all the miscreants. I get it, you think you're better than them - but you know what? Guys who come in to watch a strip show during the day are even creepier than the guys who come at night. The night time guys are probably more honest about what they're doing - I'd bet the daytime crowd are sneaking in because they don't want their wives/girlfriends to know.  And shouldn't they be at work?
One Friday shift, a group of about twenty men came in and asked a few of us to work a bachelor party later that night. The guys were absolute sweethearts, total gentlemen and great fun. I knew I'd be safe and could work with dignity and not be expected to do any more than show up and stand on a table while putting on my show. 
Ah yes, when was the last time anything bad happened when a gal left with 20 men to perform at a private party? Trust me, they weren't wanting to see you dance with dignity - they were hoping to get you all liquored up and performing party favors. Because men.
One of the men in the bachelor party turned out to be absolutely charming and we got to know each other very well. I asked him about his marriage and he told me he was on his second. He said wasn't sure if marrying the second time was a good idea ... they were in the midst of a divorce. I had a crush on him immediately.
Again, I get it. You like fixer-uppers. He was a Bad Boy who just hadn't found the right woman yet. All he needed was you, his third wife to be. Because third time's a charm.
Every time he came in, I tried to find an excuse to spend time with him but he was completely oblivious. The fellow strippers and I plotted behind his back, trying to find ways to get him alone with me. I finally managed to successfully trap him in the guest bathroom right after midnight when the music and moonlight had done their work. And the rest, as they say, is history.
So you banged him in the toilet at the strip club you worked in? Whoa, that's classy alright - hang on... didn't you say you only worked the day shift? But you 'trapped' him at midnight? Gee, I guess some of that night shift skank rubbed off on you. Does that make him a drunken buddy, a biker, or a creepy wandering pervert?
I stayed at the club for almost another year while we were dating before I quit the profession entirely. His friends, who still frequented the club a few times a week, couldn't have been more gracious and charming about it; after all, I was still their favorite stripper! (Plus, my future husband wasn't a man you'd want to get into a bar brawl with, so they never said a rude or unkind word to me.)
Not just a Bad Boy but a Bad Ass as well, huh? I bet he owns a Harley and lifts weights. I bet his friends thought you were just swell - they did after all get to see you strip naked a few times each week. Hopefully none of them were that George Costanza guy in 'Pretty Woman'.
We made it to all the way to the altar with dignity, good wishes and grace and I'm proud to say that I've been his wife for the last thirty years and we share five wonderful children together. And someday, who knows, we just might tell them how we met.
You made it to all the way to the altar with dignity? You mean none of his drunken buddies yelled out "show us your thong!" or "get your tits out!" as you walked down the aisle? Not even at the reception afterwards when the champagne was flowing? Maybe they'd seen it all before by now (a few times a week) so there was no need to stand on a table while putting on your show. 

Okay, I've had my snark.

Let me finish by saying, seriously, good for you. As I've mentioned previously, the women I worked with in strip clubs were all mostly nice normal people - regular folk by and large - but unlike civilians they just didn't have a problem taking off their clothes while they danced! (And I didn't have a problem watching them!) I'm happy you found a guy and had a family.


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