The dressing room was pretty lackluster. A vanity counter ran along one side of the room. Light bulbs were busted, and never replaced. The opposite wall was covered with about a dozen lockers, which were only used by the veteran strippers. On my first day I put my bag into one of the lockers, and one of the older strippers went ballistic. After that, I stuffed everything behind a lounge chair and hoped none of the psychos I worked with would rip me off. There were never enough mirrors or couches to relax. The dressing room was always chaotic, and I tried to avoid it.
The owner was an old Italian with a toupee. When he first opened the club, I'm sure he was boning every new girl who walked in. While I was there, I rarely saw him. I'm pretty sure now that he was running something in the back of the club. I don't know if it was drugs or gambling, but by the time I arrived he had obviously stopped caring about the front of the house a long time ago. A few of the girls I worked with would take breaks in his office, but I'm pretty sure they were just doing lines.
Management never discussed pubic hair length with us. I did watch a girl give herself a Brazilian in the dressing room once though.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment