I've been dancing for a number of years and have heard the same questions from customers over and over. They ask things like: "Do you have any education?", "What are you going to do when you quit dancing?", "Have you made any plans for the future?", Who's going to hire you when you have to get a real job?" Often they press a few folded dollar bills into my hand as they wait to see what my response will be. Are these guys really concerned about my welfare and my future? No, fuck no. Of course they aren't. So what is the best way to answer questions which are intended to be offensive? I don't know. People like these annoying douchebags just bug me. I don't even want to manufacture responses to counter their idiocy. Why do they always have to talk to me? There are so many of them and they all use the same tactics. Maybe each of them believes that he's doing something unique. They do tend to be savvy enough to hand me money while trying to insult me- obviously they realize that the malicious intent of their comments would be too transparent if they didn't. For some reason I'm a magnet for these types of people.

After one particularly tiresome shift at Larry's Rack Shack I decided to try a different job. It seemed like an idea whose time had come. I opened the classified section of the L.A. Times and the perfect opportunity jumped out at me. A local motorcycle dealership was hiring. I could sell motorcycles. I'd sell tons of them!

The next afternoon I headed into the Crotch Rocket Megastore with my friend Raul and filled out less than one quarter of the employment application. I made reference to one of my former jobs at a marine wholesaler. Had those people fired me or had I quit? It didn't matter. It still proved that I had sales experience so I just made their phone number illegible as I scribbled it on the form. That was the only information I provided other than my own name and phone number.

Raul watched as I handed the application to the smiling blonde receptionist. She promised that the manager would contact me for an interview if he was interested in hiring me. As Raul and I walked out the door he expressed surprise that I'd left so much of the application blank. He shook his head gravely and informed me that I'd really have to make more of an effort if I expected to get a "real" job. I found myself only half listening as he gave me further advice. Some of his other suggestions were that I enroll at a junior college and also enlist the help of a professional resume writer to put a positive spin on my employment history.

My phone did not ring for 3 days after Raul dropped me off at home. Maybe Raul had been right to lecture me. Maybe all those customers at the club had been onto something when they were trying to get under my skin. Maybe I wouldn't be able to get a job after I quit dancing. Maybe I'd be one of those dancers who tried to stay in the profession way too long. Maybe...


What happened next? How did busty Francesca Le become embroiled in my quest for new employment? Join my Playhouse to find out now:

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- XXOO Tanya