PART 1 BACKGROUND:
Everyone who comes to the club thinks that I have the greatest job in the world. They see me surrounded by tons of naked young girls, talking comfortably with a few "bold-face" type people, wearing suits to work and they start making the wrong assumptions right away.
The first wrong assumption is that I am banging them, two at a time, in a debauchery filled romp that's on a loop like some vintage porn Ron Jeremey flick showing in a college dorm. When I reject this ridiculous allegation, most guys think I am lying, being modest or look at me quizzically like a kitten told to "fetch." Usually they say something like, "But you're the boss, can't you make them?"
This logic always fails to resonate with me. I don't know how people can come up with such insane paths of thinking. These words always seem to come from some cretin making 12 bucks an hour at a Home Depot, where they either a) wouldn't stand up to his superior at all or B) would quit if asked to some task they thought demeaning like empty the trash or scrub a toilet let alone have sex with one of their bosses just because they were in charge.
Being the general manager of a strip club is like having 60 girlfriends-THE WORST part of having a girlfriend too. All the whining, complaining, demands, emotional outbursts, neediness, clinginess, insecurity issues, physical maladies and general confusion….Everything about a real girlfriend/wife EXCEPT the good part-SEX! In short it's like having sixty girlfriends who are on their periods ALL THE TIME.
So, no-the job is not glamorous or sexy at all.
What is is though, is challenging. Especially in my place. We have no alcohol in it so that makes the issue of drawing customers a little more difficult. It's easier to have a business model like this in say, Tampa or Massachusetts or any college type town where the main industry would be younger adults over 18 but not yet 21. They're have all the ideas, desires and needs of any other adult but they can't drink because they have not yet reached the magic age that, in this country's collective mind, somehow signifies responsibility. Plus they're horny all the time, 24/7 it's a symptom of the age.
In NYC there are so many options. College kids have taken over my neighborhood, the lower east side (now called by it's gentrified name-THE EAST VILLAGE) and have a lot of outlets of their own.
In NYC there are so many options. College kids have taken over my neighborhood, the lower east side (now called by it's gentrified name-THE EAST VILLAGE) and have a lot of outlets of their own.
First and foremost is that good ole standby, fake I.D. The fake I.D. has stood the test of time and now, with so many computer geniuses coming up-they look pretty good too. Secondly, there are a lot of internal college parties. Some older fraternity guy buys kegs of beer which, for an inflated price, he will drop off at a dorm room or off campus lodging and the shenanigans begin!
There are also a million non-alcohol pursuits and interests like comedy, theatre, movies, readings, music venues and dance clubs. Regular dance clubs will undoubtedly have some entrepreneurial, low level dealer offering designer drugs like bath salts and mollies that don't require its proprietors to have licenses or Department of Health certificates. In short, in NY, there's LOTS of options, so we, as a club, have to be creative. Those are the challenges I like.
There are also a million non-alcohol pursuits and interests like comedy, theatre, movies, readings, music venues and dance clubs. Regular dance clubs will undoubtedly have some entrepreneurial, low level dealer offering designer drugs like bath salts and mollies that don't require its proprietors to have licenses or Department of Health certificates. In short, in NY, there's LOTS of options, so we, as a club, have to be creative. Those are the challenges I like.
Now, getting back to the dancers-I have, in my life so far, have dated only ONE dancer. I was 29 and she was 19. I was working as a carpenter and had been out of the "regular dance club" managing business for three years at that point, with very little intention of going back.
She turned out to be a stereotype of the best order. She was a 19 year old black girl putting herself through medical school by stripping. It sounds like a joke but it isn't! Today she's a research pharmacologist for a giant, multinational conglomerate and has had jobs or residencies in three countries on two continents with such notable hospitals such as the MAYO CLINIC on her resume.
We began to fight when she was sending out college applications. Her stripping career ended shortly after we began living together (her choice not mine-I met her as a stripper-I was fine with her choices and didn't want to be a hypocrite) so the money wasn't around in abundance and the applications were EXPENSIVE! Plus she needed business type attire for interviews, had to travel for them and all this was causing a stress on me. She put out at least 75 of these 50-100 dollar applications and I was supporting them and became very resentful.
After all, it was a VERY complicated and time consuming process to become a doctor. I have to admit, I didn't have the faith in her that I should have had, in retrospect. Finally I blew up and told her to live in the dorms until she respected what I was doing for us both. Her face locked up with resolution and she left. She resumed dancing to support herself and we saw each other infrequently but when we did, it was stony and filled with silence even though we still had the occasional sex.
Then one day she was acting weird and was asking me for money she felt I had owed her. Of course I felt I didn't and went to visit her under the guise of paying her back. I had missed her terribly but didn't want to admit it because, like a man, I wanted to be right. I NEED to be right. It's like a disease. It's got to be on my genes because my opinionated mother is the same way.
When I got there, she wouldn't look at me in the eye and immediately started hitting me up for the money. Of course I didn't bring any. I was hoping to reconcile. We had been playing it halfway for a few months and I wanted her to see what she would have to go through in life without me. Now that she was asking for money I knew that her life was harder than she made out to be.
That was when she told me she was pregnant.
-----with another guys' baby.
Suffice to say, I didn't give her any money and that was my last experience with a dancer.
Fast forward to 15 years later. I am living with a former waitress for the past seven years and we are breaking up. She had emotional needs that I was failing to fulfill and I had needs and desires that she wasn't fulfilling. The break up was pretty ugly because at the base of it all we loved each other deeply. We just had so many mismatches in our personal makeups that it was becoming impossible to manage. I started seeing someone else and it all unraveled. In the meantime, she still lived with me while trying to find a place of her own in NYC which is damn near impossible these days unless you want to reside in the "hood."
So, the club began to become my main focus. I lived and breathed in that club. I still do. Every Friday I put in 18-20 hours and by Sunday, I have put in the hourly work week of the average American worker PLUS overtime! My normal state is physical exhaustion. My eyes have laundry sized bags under them. My joints ache and I have gained the weight of Jabba the hut, where I was once a physical specimen of some respect.
I'm not complaining-fact is- I LOVE my job. It's where I get the sensation that my input counts. My boss trusts me-COUNTS ON ME- to do the right thing and oversee it all. I design the flyers and hire guest porn stars. My night, TEMPTATION THURSDAYS is the anchor for the clubs' Pre-4 AM successes and notoriety. I am responsible for all social media, hirings, firings, press…EVERYTHING! I love it. It's a new challenge and obstacle every day. It requires a lot of thought and time and travel. I am all over this city, trying to keep the place together, clean, legal, up to date and operational. We have vendors in Europe and California as well as locally. It takes a lot to keep everything together and I am up for the challenge.
The great part is that I live in a neighborhood in Manhattan that is noted for it's artists. Most of whom are successful now because gentrification has driven the lesser ones out, and I have been friends with many of them-for years. They love to help and join in with photography video filming, editing and web content. It's been amazing to get the help I have gotten for the place.
The bad part is that I always feel the need to be there and that's what got me into the trouble I’m in right now….To be continued….
