The Wilderness Years- Stripper Lessons vol. 2 (Marilyn)

You can call me a hopeless romantic but there was a time not so long ago when stripping was an art form, by the time my study of the strip joints had run it's course it was as if the art had been lost, gone were the g-strings and pasties and in came the all nude shit shows, with the change went the class and when the class went the art went, of course not all was art back in the nihilist nineties, but the fact the girls weren't all nude led to a pretty attractive staff at my local dives down the boulevard, for tiny clubs in a half-shit hood there was some talent, and when the laws changed the scene changed but that wouldn't be until after i was gone, by that time i was but a memory, a name whispered among hoods and dancers, a tale of the guy with endless grass, but i'm getting ahead of myself here, and so i'll turn my attention to the star of this post, Marilyn...

She was a slim and petite 5'7 or so, she looked like the poor man's Adriana Lima which meant she was fucking beautiful, long brunette hair and big gray eyes, her breasts were small and real and her body was free from ink, she was something to behold as she strode on stage and though she was okay as a dancer her eyes did all the work in separating the mark from his money, there were plenty of times as she crawled towards my chair by the stage with those eyes seemingly boring into me that i just started laying down bill after bill, she said her real name was Jen, the name that seemed to be the real name of all the strippers at Anthony's back then, i actually wondered at the time if  their stage names where their real names but then they told everyone their "real" name was Jen, i got real names alot back then, i was an up and coming face and of course i was quite polite, a veritable gentleman of the strip club with impeccable manners and the ladies appreciated the respect, the dancers and i had a bit in common as we lived on the fringes, sure they were technically legally employed and i was not but we were not confused with the good upstanding members of the community, we were worked in the shadows not the light...

And so as i got to know a couple of the dancers and the bartenders Marilyn soon discovered that i was a guy who knew how to get things, not that she needed things often but when one likes certain things that are not easily obtainable at the local convenience store it's good to have as many possible avenues as possible, and Marilyn really, really, liked cocaine... of course that was not my area of expertise but in my line of work you ran across all sorts of things and so i always kept the ears open, besides most of the guys i could score from scored smoke from me so i always had a decent line on things, and so it was that one day Marilyn sidled up to me at the bar and began a friendly chat, it was obvious that Marilyn usually got her way, i wasn't naive but i was also a young male who couldn't help but subconsciously think that by helping her out that it wouldn't possibly, somehow, lead to a chance to bed the fair Marilyn, and so i smiled and nodded and she bought me a drink, and yes that night i hooked her up for the first time... i made nothing on the deal...

Over the course of a few months i would help her out occasionally, a gram here, a teener there, the occasional eight ball, i was a sucker for those eyes and of course i never saw her outside the bar and she wasn't offering me a phone number, i was her new buddy, a connection who would often stroll into her place of employment who could be counted on to run out and score her something because i was still half a fucking rube, but like most relationships, business or otherwise, there is a balance of power and for a time she seemed to hold it, until i noticed that every time i was in she'd ask and after a while i got a bit fed up with running out to grab her shit, in the words of a 25-26yr old hood, "i didn't see any blow jobs coming my way", and so i started tacking on a finders fee, a fee she complained about but a fee she paid because she knew that her charms were waning and she really liked coke... we were cool though...

And then a few weeks passed, it was one of my little breaks from the clubs, there was always a danger of the rut, i didn't want to be one of the regulars, the guys who where there every night, fucking must maintain a bit of mystery now, plus it helped me save some fucking money, when i finally stopped in it seemed it was a whole new crew of dancers, another week went by and since i was walking by and had nothing to do i popped in again, a quick glance at the board and i saw a couple of familiar names, Marilyn was one of them, i grabbed a beer and took a seat at the stage, it was a typical slow night and i think i was one of three guys actually tipping, the White Zombie began blaring and out strolled Marilyn coked out of her fucking gills, she saw me and winked, she gave the other two tippers a quick dance grabbed her money and then came spinning my way, i was laughing at how high she was, she immediately leaned in and began talking a blue streak...

I think having gone to my first strip club at such a young age had the odd effect of making me feel like i was still that teenage kid when i first started hanging at the locals, it wasn't as if i hadn't been in them since, but being in the same one or two and getting to know the names and faces and see how it all went down somehow put me on my best behavior, as if getting tossed out would be like taking Kong of the island, of course that would all change down the road but at this point i could still be a fucking rube, i was living my Hank Chinaski dream, a shit neighborhood with drunks and drugs and loose women, i was young and had enough jack in the pocket for whatever i needed, or at least what i needed for that night... and so Marilyn went all cocaine-friendly and asked where i'd been and what i'd been doing, she told me how a bunch of girls quit and two got fired, said the place was going to shit, a familiar story i had heard from other dancers at various times, she went on and on and i just sat and nodded my head, then she made a move and rolled onto her knees and went ouch and winced...

Fucking Charlie Baltimore will make you talk fucking bollocks.  It is a fact. I know it's a fact cuz i've been that fucking idiot running wildly off at the mouth, saying things and telling stories to complete strangers who are looking at you like you're fucking mad but who know you're just really fucking coked-up, and of course you don't notice anything cuz you are really fucking coked-up and hence in love with the sound of your own voice... and cigarettes... so i asked Marilyn if it was a dancing injury? she giggled and said more like fucking. Wha? i stuttered a bit dumbfounded. She then proceeded to tell me how this guy came in, and then she added it was this dealer actually, oh and she hadn't really met him before but his coke was really good and he kept hitting on her and she finally just told him for $200 an hour he could do whatever he wanted, and so when the club closed she left with him and made another $800 and spent the night fucking and doing blow and that it was a bit crazy and being on all fours for a bit had given her some serious carpet burn on her knees, which she then spun around and showed me...

It was then that this little kernel of light flickered, i sat there a bit slack-jawed, so do you do that often? i inquired, when i feel like it she smiled, and if they're cool she said, she rolled onto her back and grabbed her stiletto heels thrust her pelvis into the air with her shoulders on the floor and began grinding the air, i like girls to she giggled, and then she sat up and grabbed the dollar bills in front of her and slipped them into her garter, she did a lazy spin on the pole and then with a look of complete boredom danced over to an older gentleman who had just stepped to the stage...  (to be cont.)