Ava Adore

Shift: 11.05.10, 6pm-1am.

Put on 3 new songs to the set, Cloud Nine by Evanescence; Losing My Religion by Justin Murphy; and Heaven’s a Lie by Lacuna Coil. On test runs I feel pretty good with them on stage, I like their energy.

Unsurprisingly, Heaven’s a Lie is the one I’m on the fence about. I finally broke down and added it, and it does work better than I thought it would… but not as good as others, so I hate ‘taking up space’ in my set with songs that don’t get me going on stage.

I started out the night with Penn and Teller - sorry, sorry, I mean Keith and Bob - which is always a good time. ‘H’lo, honey!’ ‘Allo, baby!’ They’re so damn jovial. They’re a great example of how to be a good client without getting lapdances.

I then spent some time with a would-be douchebag. The ‘would-be’ is because he paid me, and paying me makes you automatically less of a douchebag, because putting up with douchebaggery is part of the job.

The gent and I talked at length, and he was very kind; he tipped me well on stage, enough to get me over, and then he said he’d like to pay me for my time to sit and talk, so we did. Except then he wasn’t going to pay me for my time.

So I laid into him, and guilt-tripped him, and was all like, ‘You said you’d pay me for my time, that’s why I’m here, you know it’s my job,’ (because we’d been being that up-front), ‘and if you’d like me to stay longer you’ll need to do that.’

He grumbled about it but did finally pay me, ‘Just so you know, most guys don’t do this.’ I said, ‘Actually, most guys that say they’ll pay me for my time, do. Now, would you like me to stay longer?’ and he said, ‘No, that’s alright, go get dances.’

So I went to the back to change and when I came back out, Joe and Charlie were there! Charlie burnt me a Bruce Springsteen cd, he says if I can’t find one song to like then we can’t be friends anymore. He’s too funny.

It was Charlie’s birthday, so I stayed an hour past my shift to hang out with them (gladly!). Joe bought him 2 dances from me, I changed into street clothes and hung out a little more. Ended the night on that note.

Wore and retired/sold Faster Pussycat, the thing was too annoying to wear to actually keep. Changed into Starchild, the remnants of said costume from Halloween, but now it’s mainly just a cute bikini. No bruises.

Douchebag Count: 0
$hift Grade: A

Shift Roundup!

10.20.10, 10.22.10, 10.24.10, and 10.25.10, all 6pm-12am.

It’s been boring, what can I say. First we chalked it up to the playoffs, but the Yankees lost out due to the fact that they weren’t playing like they fucking cared—Come on. Come back out of the woodwork. You want my tits, I want your money. Fair trade.

Anyway. Each night had one good thing about it, like Keith and Bob, whom I always like bullshitting with. Ch. and I call them Penn and Teller; Keith looks exactly like Penn, and Bob looks close enough to Teller that we don’t care if they’re different people. Ch. likes to think it’s really them.

On Sunday one of my regulars, Charlie (of Proud Mary fame), came in to visit. I authentically love spending time with him. He’s such a bloody sweetheart. He just moved to Bayside, and I used to live in Whitestone, so we talked about that for awhile. He comes in with his friend Joe, who likes to hang with Lilah.

Charlie does this thing, I’m pretty sure it’s an unconscious tic, but when he’s happy or pleased, he makes little whimpery-sigh puppy noises. So if you’re leaning into him and rubbing his back and talking, he just kinda makes noises like this. It’s adorable but I don’t want to call him on it in case he gets self-conscious.

Monday I got to see Jim, who doesn’t get dances but tips well because he’s one of the liquor suppliers to the House and he does spends and I’m his favourite to chat with meanwhile. Last time we talked about Napoleon and Russia. This time ranged from Tarantino to Louis XIV.

Oh, does anyone know: Did Tarantino cameo in Kill Bill as he does in most of his other films? If so, as who? I need to find this out.

Other than that, not much went on. Hung out with regulars Tony, John and Jeff; got a few dances from randoms; nothing to remark on. I don’t remember what I wore, partly because I’m ADD with it and partly because Penn and Teller like to tip me to go through my wardrobe.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grades: C, C, D, and C, respectively.

Shift: 10.15.10, 6pm-2am.

This was a really fucking intense shift. Long report.

So much happened. So much surprised me and concerned me and taught me new things. Like why guys consistently try to solicit sex work from dancers. And that Tr. can actually be pretty nice. And that sometimes the things you want destroy you. And that if they want you bad enough, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing.

One by one…

I sat with two gentlemen, Keith (not the possessive one) and his friend. They look like two circus guys I can’t remember the names of. Keith tipped me very heavily and we spent about two hours bullshitting. He was very frank and, despite being good humoured, he said flat out: If you’re not giving me a blow job, I don’t want a dance.

I was taken aback by his honesty and his frankness and recognized this as a point of opportunity for learning, since he didn’t want me to leave, despite him dubbing me ‘Snow White’ for my modesty (Good thing he didn’t know about my costume?). So I asked him, in a non-jackass tone for once, ‘Why don’t you just get a prostitute?’

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Shift Roundup!

10.01.10, 10.03.10, and 10.04.10, all 6pm-2am.

I’ve been bad lately with my shift summaries because there’s been so much to talk about in the world of stripping, and so much I still want to talk about. I have over 30 posts in my drafts section, it’s really a terror, and I don’t like to overwhelm you.

That being said, I’m hoping the minor cold snap is an indicator of better money at the House. I’ve made A- grade for all three of my last shifts, which I’m pretty happy with. Friday and Sunday were busy, while Monday was slow and I got lucky with one client who tipped well and got 2 private rooms with me.

Sunday was interesting particularly because I made half of what I did barside in stage tips, which actually always makes me feel like I’m doing a good job and performing well. I had favourite clients in, Brett and Felicia, and made new friends with a girl, Debbie, who started as a dancer yesterday.

Retired Evidence by Marilyn Manson and Fire in My Eyes by Fireflight after giving them test runs. Brought back Ka-Boom Ka-Boom. Loving Sweet Sacrifice. Added a black vest to my wardrobe, which gives second lives to my Punk Rock Princess and Hot For Teacher outfits, so those have been fun to wear. No major douchebags.

In other news, Story of Story of Story fame is coming to cameo at the House on our Sunday night shift! Stoked.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grades: A-

Shift: 09.10.10, 6pm-1am.

I had a lot of fun Friday night. Lilah and I went in with the intent to do a short shift, 6 to midnight, but the manager said they had a lot of girls in and to take our time. I don’t mind competing with girls and Fridays can be busy, so we went in anyway.

My first hit-up of the evening was a pair of gents, Bill and Justin. Bill and I hit it off right away, while Justin just liked to look at my ass. This worked well for me, because while I talked to Bill, Justin just kept putting singles in my thong. Okay.

Bill and I spent about till midnight together, which is when he left; he got three dances from me and was very respectful and a conscientious client. Lilah wound up leaving early, around 11, for personal reasons.

I wound up in a lengthy makeout with Ch. in the locker room for my own pleasure. Lilah calls me a ‘kiss slut.’ It’s whatevs. I like kissing. After that, a friend of mine, Ross, was in, and he got a dance for his girlfriend from me.

Then I did a quick hit-and-run with Charlie, a client I adore who comes in, he’s seriously one of my favourite people to dance for. I would have stayed longer with him but Lilah was expecting me at her place, so I had to run.

Wore a new outfit I’m going to call Derby Doll, which mixed two of my favourite things: obnoxious colours and fringe. It’s a neon pink fishnet top and skirt, and the skirt is trimmed in black fringe. Win.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grade: A-

Shift: 08.13.10, 6pm-12am.

I am only putting this up here as a faithful service to compiling reports of every shift.

Friday sucked. And sucked hard, and long. It was another 20 billion girl night, which is usually no problem—I compete well—but when competing for only a few clients on a goddamn Friday, well, that’s some bad news. I didn’t get one dance.

At some point, bored with $5 per set and no clients, I wandered back to annoy our manager, whom I adore. I was like, ‘Dude, I’m hella bored so I’m going to annoy you.’ We watched the cameras and then he said magical words:

‘Yeah, it’s a pretty stale night. I’ve got girls. You go on home.’

I LOVE YOU OKAY THANKS BYE.

Shift: 07.16.10, 6pm-2am.

Oh, Friday was an absolute blur. I walked in the door and after being called over by a gent, John—whom I know because I usually sit for his friend—it just didn’t stop. I don’t even remember half the customers’ names, though I did at the time.

After John, who tipped me and entertained me, I was with Robert, who was very generous with both tipping and stories; he and his Hispanic friend were a lot of fun. We talked about our times in Louisiana, among other things. He got one dance.

After that, huuuge blur. There was a bachelor’s party and two birthdays (Robbie and Cowboy Jason’s). I gave a private to one of the bachelor party gents, and they were fun because they were the classic rock sort of guys. Mine hadn’t had a lapdance in ten years.

Then I gave Robbie his birthday lapdance, but he was too busy being angry over a bottle of Grey Goose to really be an active participant. Also, he was bombed, so there’s that. He bought more Patron shots than I’ve ever seen poured before. Not for me—god, two bottles just for me?—but for everyone.

Then I had the ultimate pleasure of dancing for a blind gentleman. I can’t really describe what the experience was like, but it was great to bond and talk with him. I let him feel me do everything, like when I undressed.

He would lift my skirt and ask what colour it was. He wanted to touch my thigh-highs, my hair, my face so he could feel my expression. He could tell my hair had been dyed and wanted to know its original colour.

I spent a good hour and a half with him. He got my second 15 private of the evening as well as a dance, first. The security was kinder to his needs in the lapdance room, but in the private they were so particular about ‘arms at the side’ that I felt bad.

I even told security, but they didn’t care. He was a perfect client and anything he touched was where I led him, so I’m not even talking anything bad. They wouldn’t let him touch my legs, my back, or my hips. He must have felt so frustrated.

So as much as that was a pleasure, I also got to experience a small taste of how ignorance goes beyond race, gender, sexuality, and culture. After my time with him, I was done with my shift.

There were other dances in-between, but they were quick one-offs with with gents I hadn’t sat with, so it’s hard to recall them. No bruises, costumes for the night were Limewire and Snow White. Only 2? Shows you how busy I was.

Douchebag Count: 0.
$hift Grade: A+