Exactly a year ago I was in Bozeman for Memorial Day weekend and was snowed on. This year I'm in Missoula and it just rained a lot, though today is clearer.
I spent a week in North Dakota earlier this month, same tiny town and tiny bar, so Missoula is quite booming in comparison. I'm sort of in a haze, though, between sinus headaches that are worse than anything I've had before, general burnout, physical exhaustion, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-life malaise, and a desire to indulge my introvert self with, say, a year in the mountains.
It's so fucking weird to work when my head in in a place like this; to be in a social environment, to talk and be funny and on when it is so so so very fake to the point that I worry all the customers are going to catch on and be sad. I mean, I don't care if the assholes get that kind of vibe, but I have a perverse set of professional ethics that boil down to this: I am, essentially, being paid to pay attention to people. If you're handing me $20 for four minutes or $500 for an hour, you deserve, at the least, decent customer service. By which I mean my attention and willingness to show you a good time within my boundaries and those of the local laws and liquor regulations.
I must be really fucking good though, because I've done really well so far up here despite my shitty mood. It's kind of too bad. I would almost love an excuse to pack it in and head into those mountains.
But it's a nice club, one that makes me happy to be in, and that does help ease the burnout. Plus, I saw something last night I've never seen before -- an amateur night with actual amateurs. It's common knowledge that in most cities, any club's "amateur night" with cash prizes might draw one actual amateur and then a bunch of strippers from other clubs looking to snag the prize money, one of whom usually wins 'cause the contest is fixed. Either that or it's a way to do auditions, so, same thing, plenty of professionals, not amateurs.
This town has real amateurs. Combine that with the holiday weekend, and the place was standing room only. Granted, most of the crowd was young and broke, but hey, I didn't have to put up with them since I spent most of the peak time in VIP. I didn't get to see all of the amateur performances, either, but I caught a little of the first two, a chubby, pasty, goth gal rocking it to Rob Zombie, and a short-haired African-American dancer with a plaid skirt and pink bra (when she came out I was reminded that as cosmopolitan as it is here compared to ND, there's still racism, as I heard a couple of comments in the crowd and the applause was far quieter. Ugh).
It's so cute to watch nonstrippers strip. We were all there at one time, you know? And then we grow up and become professionals and work that shit and go through burnout cycles like clockwork. Ahh, career women.
MimiNY made some noise earlier this year about wanting to come out here; I should find out when she plans to head west and get her up here for a few spins around the stage. The thought of that could keep me going for quite a while.
Labels: Daily, Holidays, Montana, Travel
