Tuesday 18 June 2013

Time wasters

One thing that both stripping and paramedicine have in common is time wasters.
Some of these people genuinely don't realise that they are wasting your time, whereas others actively do so. Every paramedic has their horror story of being dispatched code 1 to a heart attack or shortness of breath, only to find someone waiting calmly with their bags packed wanting to use you for a lift to their appointment or that part of town. Bonus points if they claimed chest pain or SOB to make sure you got there quickly, and d'bag status is obtained if they complain about how long you took. It's a drain on the system, but at least paramedics still get paid for this. At the end of the day, you can go home confident that you will be paid for your shift.

Stripper economics (strippernomics?) are a bit different. Not only do we not make an hourly rate, we have to pay the clubs in order to work there. Add to that the price of our upkeep (waxing), consumables like makeup and tan, equipment like heels and outfits and travel cost, and it can easily cost more than $100 per shift just to work. That's $100 we have spent to be there with no guarantee we will make anything. If we're good at our job and the club gets a reasonable amount of people through the door, then sometimes the money can be great. Other times, the clubs are dead, you're having a bad night and you might not make anything. Usually it's worth it. If you're good at the job, it can be very worth it. And stripping has other advantages, like autonomy and flexibility about when and where you work. As far as uni jobs go, it's fantastic!

Of course, there are the downsides too. And one of these is time wasters.
These are the guys who came to the club because they want to see boobs and have a beer, but think that because they paid a door charge, they are entitled to boobs. To put this into context, this is like someone thinking they are entitled to an ambulance because they pay their phone bill. Bonus points if they know the dancers don't get paid, tip the waitresses (who do get an hourly wage) and try to cop a feel. You win at d'baggery if you offer to take us home with you instead. These guys are always happy to talk to you and enjoy the company of your cleavage for as long as possible, but are absolutely against giving us money for enjoying the service we provide.

I completely understand that lap dances are not for everyone. I don't expect that everyone who walks into a club should get a lap dance. So there are other ways you can tip us. If you're sitting in front of the stage, it's customary (see world standard, rude not to) to tip the girl who is dancing in front of you. In return, you will usually get a bit of special attention and if you tip well, possibly some boobs in your face.
So you don't want to sit in front of the stage? That's also fine. Girls will approach you. If you enjoy the company of some of them, tip them. You may stuff that tip into our bras or into our G-strings, just make sure that tip is of the foldable variety. Don't try to stuff it over our nipples (paper cuts!) or into areas of membranous skin (VAGINA!). Instead, most guys try to prove to us that they're not a jerk by offering to buy us a drink. It's astounding how many men will buy a stripper a drink but refuse to put that $5 or $10 into our bra. A drink does not help me. I don't drink at work. Every city has *that* guy who likes to spike strippers' drinks, in fact two drinks were spiked with GHB on the first night I ever worked. I also drive home.

One of my most memorable time waster stories happened just before Christmas in 2012.
I approached a gentleman who was clearly enjoying my assets, happily sat next to him and introduced myself. His first words to me were:
"I'm not going to give you any money. I just want to fuck with your head."
This sentence will forever be burned into my mind. Why would anyone walk into my work and tell me he wanted me to be his victim? Needless to say, I was not impressed. I was not going to walk away and let him have the upper hand, nor was there anything he could say that could possibly get the reaction he was looking for.
"Oh really? Go ahead." I challenged.
His first question was pretty much what I expected.
"So how do you feel about doing this?" I gave him a brief spiel about how it was the best uni job ever, and I enjoyed the choices and autonomy he gave me. Next he asked me about my relationship with my family, so he got an ear full about how annoying it is that the general public still subscribes to many of Freud's now disproven theories. There were a few other questions he asked me, all of which clearly tried to lead me down a path of feeling bad about myself or what I do. I could see him getting frustrated from it not working, but his last question made me laugh.
"So what do you think the meaning of life is?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Really? Existentialism? Is that the best you can do?"
What he said next, however, floored me almost as much as his opening remark and is burned into my mind just as clearly.
"I don't like you. You're smarter than me. But I do kinda like you, but I don't. Do you know what I mean?
I laughed at him some more and told him he wasn't used to women calling him on his bullshit, before walking off. I'd like to think it was 5 minutes well wasted, although if I ever see him again, I'd like to fuck with his head some more.

With practice, you get better at figuring out quickly who is a time waster, both in the ambulance and a strip club. You also get better at not taking "No" for an answer and getting a dance anyway, or redirecting them to appropriate healthcare services. This reminds me of my brief foray into sales many years ago, where the mantra was "Three nos is a yes". In fact, stripping is really just a sexy sales job where your nudity and presence is the product.

1 comment:

  1. Here are some of the most common time wasters in the office that all of us are guilty of, and how to get out of the rut. - https://www.randstad.com.sg/career-advice/tips-and-resources/the-biggest-time-wasters-at-work/

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