It finally happened, after three decades of clubbing in the city where I live. A dancer introduced herself, sat down next to me, and asked (as a conversation starter) what my plans were for the weekend. We didn't recognize each other immediately, but eventually from chatting about my weekend plans it became clear that we knew some of the same people.
Turned out she is a friend of one of my family members (who doesn't know that stripping is her "other job"). My family member also doesn't know that I go to strip clubs, so the dancer and I both had an incentive to keep our secrets. That helped her to relax a bit.
After the initial awkwardness, it turned out to be a fun conversation. She said she figured she would be recognized sooner or later (especially since her other job involves dealing with the public). I bought her a drink and gave her a tip, but didn't ask her for a dance. When the DJ called her to the stage, I made sure to stay out of her line of sight so she wouldn't feel awkward. I didn't really want to see her naked either. Maybe that's because I know her as a "real person" and not someone I would want to pay for lap dances or take to VIP.
Somehow it actually seemed easier to talk about our real lives (our mutual friends, shared interests and her OTC job) rather than the strip club stuff I usually chat about with dancers (how long have you worked here, how do you like it, where else have you danced).
Afterward, it got me thinking about the boundaries we choose to set. Dancers lie, and we lie to them. I know they're breaking the ice and making conversation, but why would I tell you my real name, where I'm from, or where I work? "Have you been here before?" is another question that you don't want to answer honestly. Always say yes! The last time I said it was my first visit, I got overcharged. Dancers are making conversation, but they are also sizing you up. "Are you in town on business?" or "What do you do for a living?" are indirect ways of asking how much money you can afford to drop.
Once I asked a dancer, "So, you're from Milwaukee?" She looked really startled and responded, "Did I tell you that?" I reminded her that it was tattooed on her back. I guess if you don't see your own tattoo every day, you can forget that it's there. But it seemed to shake her up a little because that's a fact about her real life that she probably doesn't choose to disclose when she's at work.
I've had "deep" conversations with dancers (about the death of a sibling, or sexual harassment on the job), but how much of it was true? The deeper feelings seemed real, but the details may have been changed to protect the innocent (as they say on TV).
I don't like going to clubs with my friends, either. If you're my friend, I probably know your wife or partner. I don't really want to know what turns you on. And honestly, I'm there to escape. A friend is a reminder of my real life. Inside the club, I don't know you and you don't know me. Better to keep it that way.
I once recognized a customer from real life. He was the OB/GYN who delivered my kids, and he was also a "whale" at Oasis in ATL. Always thought that was kind of odd: you get paid to look at vaginas all day long, doc! (He died years ago, so I'm not "outing" anybody.) I left the club, because I didn't want to make him feel awkward if he were to recognize me. I wonder if he ever got dances from any of his patients!
I remember when I ran into my former SB at a restaurant when she was with her vanilla boyfriend. It was super awkward for her because she told that simp they were exclusive, which I don't care about, just be good to me.
I acted like I didn't know her and she had the audacity to be mad about that after the fact. What the fuck was I supposed to do? And no SB gets to tell me what to do anyway so I cut her off. And the loser she was dating didn't have the spine to dump her until a year later after which she tried to reconnect with me, which come on now, no.