Tuesday night, the little bar with one stage and no private dances had an open shift, and with a $4K vet bill on the credit card I need to make an effort to work at least some this week; it's not road money, but it's money, right?

The advantage of a stage only club is that it's relatively easy work to just dance and smile and not have to talk to people and be charming and try to sell them dances. When your brain is working slowly like mine is this week, that's good. Although it is disheartening when your money literally comes one dollar at a time -- I think that might have been the first night in a long time where I haven't been paid in anything but dollar bills. Usually someone tosses a $20 up there at some point.

So I punched in music into a jukebox, spent a little time talking to some customers who were perfectly pleasant if not free with the cash, and got through the night well enough. Enter music, step on stage, remove clothing, repeat. It's very simple.

Summer was also nice enough to let me fool around in her studio a couple of times, having fun with the play part of the job, the pole. My arms are so very very sore today from holding myself up and trying to learn new ways to be upside down holding onto a pole with one leg and no arms, and then doing handstands against the pole. All the blood rushed to my head and I felt dizzy when righting myself. That's a way to get a new perspective; being upside down. Watching all of your body trying to come to your head. It's not a flattering view, really, but it's an interesting one. I expect my breasts to try to hit my chin, but everything else that can move will.

And stainless steel poles require a strong grip that bruises thighs unused to it. These have faded since yesterday but are still quite impressive.


Same club tonight. Then tomorrow throwing myself back into the bigger club, I guess. I need to find my personality; I think I left it in Montana.