Sunday January 17^th

Ricks Cabaret is in the thick of Bourbon. I bought a fishnet t-shirt at the Hustler store from a sweet fag to cover my tats for the audition. “Where do you work that they make you cover them?” he asked.

            “Everywhere,” I said.  He laughed and gave me the stripper discount. The important thing is to get in the door. Show management you can make money and you’re not going to get into fistfights with the other girls, get drunk and pass out or piss off customers, then you can walk in whenever.

I heard VIP rooms go for $500/for 3o minutes at Ricks and girls Mack in the multiple Gees. I want to see if I can clear $1500 on a busy night later in the week when the car show is in town and the Saints play against the Vikings. They’re on a winning streak here and the locals are ecstatic.  

When you walk in from the mob scene of fat people and drunks that is Bourbon Street on any night, the dark light makes any 30-year old with four kids look fourteen. I met a couple of those right off the bat.  Girls next door with no makeup and greasy hair. Girls that have Southern accents, bubble butts and husbands at home.

The stage at Ricks is a real bruiser: a postage stamp; rough to maneuver, like ice-skating on a platform. If you slip it's all over cause there's no bar to catch you so you better know how to fall into the splits.  It’s tiny and made of marble so it’s real slippery and there’s no pole. It’s about showing not performing, like a formality or an afterthought. I like poles where I can entertain and build the clientele from up there. The stage at Ricks is a waste of time. The one at the “Hustler” club goes up two stories so I want to work there one night just for the two-story pole.

My audition was three songs. They wouldn't let me play my own stuff, which sucks. It’s all top 40 up-beat bullshit on Bourbon. The DJ did have some Iggy Pop and old Bowie though so he humored me with “Ashes to Ashes,” “Passenger,” and “Rebel, Rebel,” a nod to my first audition ever in San Francisco where I danced to the Ricky Lee Jones cover of “Rebel Rebel” in all of my vintage kinder-whore speed freak glory. The shirt over my fishnet job had hooks and eyes that kept getting caught and stuck, so I finally tore it on stage and removed it. I hoped the fishnets covered the tattoos enough.

After all the paperwork was signed, I got on the floor around 6pm and there were only five girls on rotation. I danced several times on "The Bruiser" and now have lemon-sized marks on my knees and thighs. Today it's about Epson salts and Arnica gel.

The audience dances go for $20 and there’s no touching, because the key is to get them in the back for $60 per song, then eventually upstairs for the real money. Nothing major goes on upstairs, according to my friend. There are cameras in the rooms and they fire girls who cross the line. I crossed said line in the $60 area when I danced for a married couple from Florida. The chick lifted up her shirt so I did a little teaser for her dude-just some nipple tweaking-no big whoop. I guess everyone stays clothed in the $60/ area, even if they’re a hot blonde MILF from Florida. I was scolded. The floor man let it slide cause I’m new.

 I didn’t push the half-hour rooms for the $500/30 min. I have to summon the courage to get those dances. It’s so much fucking money.

The guys that I danced for were from Florida and New York last night. Under 40 hipsters. Kings of Leon fans. Surfers. Not guys ready to spend $500 on the half hour. Guys that get smitten.  Guys that show me pictures of their two dogs. Guys that tell me I look like their ex-girlfriend. They never asked my age. They did ask me out. I declined, like always.

The manager’s nice enough and probably doing the Cocaine diet plan. He was amped and loved to hear himself talk. He’s a bald guy from Albuquerque and I like guys from there so we had some laughs while he ate overcooked lasagna with a plastic fork.  On the slow Sunday night I still cleared nearly seven hundred clams. But next week, I want to bust a Gee at Rick’s Cabaret. If other girls can do it, so can I.