Mondays

You know it's a bad night when half the girls can't even pay their tip-out at the end of the night. It was exceptionally slow, and exceptionally cold. I had pretty much given up by 3:00 and was out of there by 3:30.

Luckily I did make enough to tip out, and reached my (week) nightly goal of $400. I'm working four days a week now, seeing as I have NO social life, I might as well be at work making money.

I'm starting to make 'friends' with the staff, which really is important in this industry. Having people recommend you to big spenders is always helpful.

I think this whole job is starting to click with me now. Sometimes I have a hard time understanding people, especially men. I used to find it impossible to believe that men actually get turned on during a lap dance. It seems so artificial, so unsexy to me. My sales skills suffered because of that ridiculous notion. Now, I realize that receiving a dance is not an arousing experience for every single man, but for the majority of them it is. This fact alone has helped me immensely.

I don't know. I'm making more money than I ever have, more than college educated professionals with actual credentials. I can afford the $1,000 leather couch and $800 flat screen TV that I want. I can afford to get my hair and nails done. When I come home and count my money I get this intense high: green and papery between my fingers, with the smell of stale smoke and cheap Victoria's Secret body spray lingering on every bill. Then I quietly pack those lovely pieces of paper in an envelope, their temporary holding cell, until they find themselves in the prison that is my bank account. But I realize that this is not happiness, at least not the happiness that I watch other people partake in.

It's just consuming.