Mendez - Mom, Im allright: confessions of a former stripper

Mendez, Monica

Mom, I'm Allright. Confessions of a Former Stripper

Copyright 2009

Salacious Press

A division of BurmanBooks

First eBook Edition: March 2010

ISBN: 978-1-596-59498-2

Monica Mendez lives in Los Angeles and is now an aspiring photographer.

Its amazing how quick people are to judge in a town like Hollywood, particularly those who have no right or place to do so. Yeah yeah, I know, what do I expect, I dance naked for a living.

Sometimes, it turns out, those who judge just happen to work in what I like to call The Sex Business. Models, actors, actresses, and all your typical tinsel town extras, who love to come into the club just like any other hot-blooded man or woman. These people sell themselves on a daily basison a different stage, and maybe naked only part of the time, but they no doubt sell themselves.

I remember back when I was still doing the whole actress thing, I went on many auditions. One in particular will stick with me forever. I was sitting there in the dressing roomI mean, casting roomwow, thats a Freudian slip if Ive ever heard oneand I started to glance around the room, sizing up the competition, when I noticed a theme throughout the entire line-up. I was the most over-dressed, covered up girl in the room. Every boob job in there came with a matching mini-skirt and complimentary Tammy Faye cosmetics kit. And then there was mejeans with holes, a tank top, and a sinking feeling that I am out of my element. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a face that I definitely knew, but couldnt remember from where.

Then it hit meshe was at the club not more than a week ago. It was a Friday night and she had clearly been club hopping for hours. At this point, she was a little bit tipsy and extremely obnoxious and annoying. She was a typical female customerthere to please at least one of the 3 guys she came withthe type that will sit stage, not tip, and be sure to annunciate her negative comments on each girl loud enough for all of her friends to hear.

But on this night it backfired. All the attention was on usthe ones she was trying to trash. She had to think fast. Stumbling out of her chair and up to the DJ booth, she decided that she wanted to auditionright there and then. The DJ then proceeded to explain to her that she needed the proper shoes and attire to do it. Sabrina, one of the girls I worked with, donated her highest pair of heels, realizing her chance to finally get even with her and her mouth.

Ill lend you my stuff sweetie, she said, with a devilish grinSabrina was quite the little spitfire. I thought to myself This is really fucked up, but after hearing her sit at stage all night saying things like Dont tip her, shes got a hideous boob job or Look at her rolls, ugh, it was payback time!

Each of us took it upon ourselves to decorate this girl like a stripper Christmas tree. Fishnet this, leather thatyou get the picture and thenit was SHOWTIME! All the girls gathered around the stage to watch their production.

I heard the DJ start to play No Doubts Im Just a Girlher pickJesus, she was just a girl! She made it through, falling only once, but she was so nervous throughout the performance because shed forgotten to shave.

I find it funny how people judge, but in just a few moments can find themselves on the other side. That night, she made about $40 in just a few minutes and was ecstatic. She had succeeded and managed to impress her friends at the same time.

When I saw her at the audition, she was very serious and focused on her lines. I wasnt about to approach her. This time I was on her turf, in front of her packall these girls knew herjust like we were in the dressing room at the club.

Now, I was out of place and felt like I did not belong. So just like her, I left the audition and never came back.

Lots of people associate drugs with adult entertainment, and Id be hard pressed to get you to believe otherwise. So Im not going to sugarcoat the fact that you have to put yourself in that bubble every nightyour own little customized force field to help you get through the whole experience.

Its not easy to get up there night after night and sell yourselfand do it with no clothes on to boot. So yeah, sometimes I need a drink, or 3, or something to smoke. Some girls need a littleor a lotmore.

Thats where the Toy Ladies come into playor should I say come in to play. The Toy Ladies were two young ladies who made their living off the nightlife. They were club kids.

Although they rarely made it all the way to the stage, they usually managed to walk away with more money than the rest of us. Girls will definitely pay top dollar when they need a bubble, especially when theyre about to start their shift and are all out at home.

The Toy Ladies were responsible for my first experimentation with drugs. They set up shop in the dressing room with a Kraft services spread, only there wasnt anything to eatsort of. They would ask each girl What do you need tonight? and go down the line.

They were here to make money off us, not the guys who sit out front. These girls stood out, their clothes all bright and flashyjust looking at them was like an acid tripand elaborate handmade costumes. They were club-ready 24/7 and always made up like they were headed to a photo shoot.

Those nights would come, when youd say: No, Im good, not tonight and then a few hours later, ask: What do you have again? Needless to say, they rarely had a bad night.

These girls made our nights just a little more enjoyable. Not only were their sales skills up to par, but these girls were performers at their finest. Watching them dance on stage was pure pleasure. It was fun. They loved to perform. Whether it was in a gentlemens club on the east side of town, or a trendy Hollywood club on the Westside, they put one hundred percent into everything that they did, from their costumes, to their late-night partying.

I remember that they always seemed to be going a hundred miles a minute. In a way, I kind of envied them. These girls could care less what people thought of them, which seems to be a common trend with adult entertainers. In this business you just have to learn not to care what people think, because in the end thats what will save you, and the Toy Ladies were no exception. They have survived everything, the drugs, the partying, the strip club lifestyle, and the harsh discrimination that accompanies it.

Not long ago, I ran into one of them on the street. She was almost unrecognizable. She looked different without her club gear on and all grown up. There, in the sidewalk under the harsh California sun, with coffee in hand, a far cry from a dark seedy strip club in the middle of the night with a sugary jack and coke, she began to tell me of her past and present.

After having enough of the club life she decided to start her own legit business. She used her smarts and beauty for something else and became an entrepreneur of a different kind. This toy lady traded in her pink hair, handmade clothes, and over the top club makeup for designer duds and fashionable haircuts, suitable for any powerful woman you would find working on Wall Street.

All the money she had made in the past was put to her future.

And the remaining Toy Lady? She was living the life of a happy housewife, out of Los Angeles. She had traded in the club lifestyle for diapers and a suburban family car. As I walked away from my one-time bubble builder, I could not help but get a little sad. It was like leaving a fun vacation. Youre happy to go home, but youre sure going to miss that period of time when you didnt have to worry about bills, cleaning the house, or getting up early for work.