The Thought That Dare Not Speak its Name

      There was a piece of paper sticking under my door when I got home tonight (this morning?).  I almost had a heart attack, but it was just a menu for Chinese food.  

       It has occurred to me that I could make money stripping.  A woman I used to work at a House with now works as a stripper and averages $300 a night.  Now, I can make that doing what I’m doing at the Studio, but only if the men stop wrapping their Christmas presents or watching Football or whatever the hell they are doing and come to see me.  Presumably there are always dudes in strip clubs, but I don’t really know.  I’ve only been in two or three of them.  

     I ran it by a few other girl in the Studio tonight.  I am skeptical about whether I am pretty enough or young enough for the job.  Not sure why–I get modeling gigs and guys seem to like looking at me; the Surgeon would not be with me if I wasn’t nice-looking.  Anyway, the others all concurred that I am plenty young and good-looking.  My body is actually better than it was when I was an undergrad.  

     Cause I sure as hell am not going to run any of this by anyone else in my life, let’s reason this out here:

  • PROS:                                           CONS

fast solvency (presumably)                      socially unacceptable and I could very well get caught
                                                                The Surgeon would cut off my head
                                                                Not a sober work environment (A BAR!)
                                                              Probably not good for my starving tendencies to be around
                                                              naked teenaged Ukrainian models
                                                               I have no idea what music they play in strip clubs, but it is          
                                                                 almost certainly something I hate.
                                                               Somehow I don’t think that the Dean would approve
                                                                Or my Mom
    There’s also the fact that I CAN’T DANCE and I am uncoordinated.  I am also kinda introverted and the idea of going up to strange guys and bugging them for money–or, worse, flirting with them–makes me cringe and want to throw up all over the place.  Ugh, the idea of sitting on some guy’s lap and pretending like I think he’s the King of the Castle.  UGH UGH UGH

      NEVER MIND, I just talked myself out of it.  The entire time I’ve been working at Houses, I’ve almost never done sensual or teasing scenarios (this is distinct from being friendly and courteous, which I always am, at the appropriate time).  I hate that shit.  Mostly, I hate coming on hard to men I’ve just met and am not particularly attracted to–it’s fake, and I don’t do fake.  But also, I just don’t like being coy.  I mean, really.  What’s the point?  Why be so indirect; why the hinting, the big production?  

    Want to see me, Miss Margo, do seduction?  Here it is: “Hey, wanna jump in the sack?”  or, “Take off your clothes.”  THERE.  SEDUCTION ACCOMPLISHED.  Dudes always go for it.  I’ve never had one tell me, “No, I don’t feel like you’ve made enough effort to seduce me!”  Men never say no.  

      That’s something I don’t think that a lot of women realize: men are the easiest things ever.  Unless they are in a relationship and loyal (one does not necessarily presume the other), or in a position of power over you at work, they will not reject you.  I’ve asked out scads of men.  The only ones who have ever said no to me had girlfriends or wives.  Women: ask out men.  They are dying to be picked up.  You can do whatever you want to them.  They will love it.  I’m telling you.  I know what I’m talking about.  

      Anyway, that’s it: the idea of stripping sucks so badly that I simply can’t entertain it.  

      It’s funny–the idea of giving a lapdance makes my hair turn white, but I’ve done what I’ve done in Houses like The Superstudio and in my own bedroom, and haven’t thought one thing about it.  

One thought on “The Thought That Dare Not Speak its Name”

  1. I’m pretty direct, too or let my body talk. Not a flirter. Back when I used to waste whole days on Craigslist, back before I was any good at recognizing timewasters, all the emailing is what I got burned out on real quick. Ha it sure made actual encounters much better since I was so happy to finally get one! It might take a little bit now, but not much.
    Stripping used to seem fantastic to me, back before I knew what it entailed. Not that I have the body nor coordination. It’d be the branch I’m least equipped for, for sure!

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