Sometimes strippers walk off the stage in the middle of a song because they feel that the customers are not tipping them enough. Sometimes they start yelling at the customers from the stage because they feel the customers are not tipping them enough. There is a sign in the backstage area of the club where I dance that says: "Dancers who insult customers from the stage will be sent home. You are professionals so act like it." The second sentence on that sign always strikes me as a bit of wishful thinking on the part of the management whenever I see it.

People in general engage in all types of self-defeating behavior. I'm sure that I'm no exception, but I try not to sabotage myself when I'm onstage dancing half-naked or naked. Perhaps I try to avoid manifesting my despair in public. I just write about it when no one is around.

Years ago I was dancing at the Century Theatre in Los Angeles. One night I ended up being the last dancer to go onstage before the club shut down for the night. That seemed to happen to me a lot at that particular club. My music started playing and I heard the deejay ask the customers to "please welcome the last lady of the evening." I parted the curtains and made my grand entrance.

"Here she is, gentleman! Tanya will be the last lovely lady up on the stage for you tonight." he said in his deep baritone voice as I began dancing.

I made eye contact with a man sitting towards the front of the room and smiled at him. He gazed back at me, looked me up and down, turned to his friend and jerked his head toward the door. They stood up and started to leave. Their departure seemed to trigger a mass exodus from the room. Every other man in the place appeared to be heading for the door. I kept dancing, hoping someone would stay. I went down into the splits, rolled around on the floor for a minute and came back up. By the time I resurfaced the whole room was empty. My song played on. I caught the eye of the manager who was cleaning up something behind the bar. He motioned for me to keep on dancing. That didn't make any sense, but the Century Theatre was a strange place back in those days. Everyone tried to adhere to the remarkably arbitrary and senseless rules of the owner, Howard White. My personal belief was that Howard revelled in making up weird guidelines for the dancers and management just to infuse some needless drama into the place for his own amusement. In any case, I didn't want to get the manager in trouble and I kept on dancing on the stage inside that empty room.

It had been demoralizing to see those customers evaluate me and then leave, but I did not want to capitulate to my disappointment or humiliation or annoyance or indignation or whatever it was. Stripping is a profession where you have to be tough as nails and not look like it. As I kept dancing I told myself that I'd have a better night the following evening when I returned for my next shift. That positive affirmation, (gosh, I hate that term), relaxed me and I just enjoyed the music and finished my first song. At some point midway through the second song I noticed a stack of twenties in the corner of the stage on the floor. Huh? Where had that come from? I looked over to see a row of familiar-looking men watching me with polite appreciation. Sometimes that happens. It took me a minute to make sense of it but then I realized that they were the plumbers who had been arriving at 2AM each night to repair something in the building. They could not do the work during the club's business hours so they always showed up around closing time. Their boss was a remarkably nice guy and either he brought out the best in his crew or he attracted people who were similar in nature to himself. Either way, they were a group of unusually cool guys.

They watched me dance, my song ended, I smiled at them, they applauded, and I thanked them. The memory of that night is burned into my brain. I have always regarded it as a sign not to lose my emotional connection with dancing. And as a sign not to lose hope.

Maybe they gave me the money as a sympathy tip. Or maybe they enjoyed my dancing. Or maybe both.

Dancing has given me a lot. I cannot even envision what my life would have been if I had not become a stripper because all those experiences inside a strip club are so integral to who I am as a person. The modelling and adult videos I've done just seem kind of incidental.

I was wearing sheer white stockings and a garter belt that night at the Century Theatre. That was something of a rarity because I rarely ever wear stockings when I dance. The pic above reminds me of that fateful evening because I'm wearing stockings and rolling around on a well-trafficked floor. I know it does not sound attractive, but I've rolled around on a lot of grimy floors. Floors get dirty after each of 100 dancers parade across them multiple times in the course of a given day.


Join my archive site
www.JackOffLand.com to see the full "Stocking Feet" gallery now!


I hope that I am always the girl who keeps on dancing, that I never give up hope.



- XXOO Tanya