A Series of Unfortunate Events

I went back to the Big Easy after a 2 year hiatus. I wasn't expecting Mardi Gras money but I figured between Voodoo fest, Halloween and the Giants/Saints game I'd rake in a nice tidy profit. I sauntered onto Bourbon on Monday night after my flight expecting Deja vu (the site of my 2014 success) to be open. Nein. To my consternation they were not. No biggie. My housemate (who is employed at Rick's because she looks like a Victoria's Secret supermodel) went to Babes where I filled out paperwork and auditioned. I was warned house fees were high for out of towners. No biggie. I figured I'd have a range of other options.

Come Tuesday, shit hit the fan. 5 clubs were raided, I believe. Scores, Centerfolds, Lipstixx, Chez Joey and Dixie Divas. Various charges from drugs to prostitution are pending. The noncited clubs are on hiring freezes as of now, ranging from 30-90 days. I did Barely Legal's bullshit "Babe search" but failed to land the coveted "Scholarship to Barely Legal University." Between the raid and being rejected this time around I had a nervous breakdown. I called my boyfriend and informed him that I'm toying with the idea of liposuction. (I really am.) They wound up hiring a silicone implanted blonde cliche and another blonde IBTC charter member who informed me that she enjoys urinating on people. So if you're into water sports head on over to Barely Legal.

Anyways my first official night was Thursday. In the beginning dancers usually do 3 song sets. The DJ working that night kept introducing me as "Temptress" and was reluctant to play Pantera. My house fee was $75 as per regulations for nonscheduled out of state dancers. By then I was convinced I wasn't going to make 75 cents, let alone $75. I was ready to pack it in and go home to Philly with my tail tucked between my legs. A fellow dancer (If you're reading this Zoe, thank you!) convinced me to stay for just one more hour. Glad I did.