Authors: Ellie Midwood
- Always mind the time. They have timers on three different walls, so it’s hard to miss your stage. Now about the stage time: if the manager told you your stage time is 15, it means you have to go on stage every hour at 15 minutes, for example 8.15, 9.15 and so on. Got it?
- Yeah…I guess so. It sounds pretty easy.
- It is, - Lana smiles. – You’re gonna like it. Dance slowly, very erotic, try to move sensual, you know? They like it.
- Ok, I’ll try, - I smile at her, still amused by the fact that in fifteen minutes I am actually going to dance in my bikini in front of the full bar of guys.
- About the tips. You get off stage when your time is up, so it’s gonna be 8.30, and then you go around the bar and collect your tips. We normally do it twice, it’s allowed in this club.
- Oh, that’s nice.
- Yes, it is, - Lana puts more lip gloss on, - and after you’re done just go and talk to them and ask if they want to do a dance with you. Dance is twenty dollars and lasts one song; after the time is up, you can ask them if they want to do more. That’s how you make money here, by doing dances, not from the stage, so the more you do, the better.
We hear the DJ calling several girls on stage, including Lana, who uses stage name Arianna. I didn’t know anything about stage names and told DJ my real name, Mila.
- Oh shit, it’s 8.05 already! – Lana quickly fixes her hair and smiles at me before rushing out of the door. – Good luck! See you on stage!
And here I am, alone in the dressing room, in my bikini and high heels, still not afraid. Millions of questions going through my mind though: how shall I move on stage? How do I talk to the customers? How do I even come up to a customer? How do I ask them about dances? How do I dance at all? What if they don’t like it?
But then I think about my abusive aunt and my male whore cousin and come to the conclusion that I’m better off doing what I’m doing here, the further from them the better, and who knows, maybe the whole club experience will eventually get me out of the misery I was in.
8.10. Five minutes before I go on stage, I decided to come out of the dressing room and take a look at what was going on in the club. Four girls were dancing on stage, some of them smiling at the customers, some just doing their thing; some girls were circling inside the bar, getting single dollar bills from guys sitting there. Some girls were enjoying drinks with their customers, some were leading them to the lap dance room.
8.12. I can do this. I can totally do this. These girls don’t look miserable or unhappy and in the van they were talking about the recent shopping they did and the resorts they were going to. I couldn’t remember when was the last time I bought something and couldn’t even dream about a vacation. My vacation was a Saturday afternoon, when my aunt would go over to her friends’ house and I would be left alone in peace. So yes, this doesn’t look too bad after all.
8.14. I’m getting closer to the bar. It’s almost time. I’m not nervous at all. I used to dance ballet back in Russia since I was 3 and never had a stage fright. And this is just a different form of dancing. Of course I can come up to a customer and talk to him. I used to play in a theatre in my school and know how to act. If you don’t feel confident, just act confident. Pretend that it’s all just a movie and you’re a leading actress playing your part.
8.15. And here we go. Camera. Lights. Action!
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I did pretty well that night. Sleepy and a little bit tired I was nodding off in the van, thinking of how easy it was making money this way. After I did my first stage and collected the tips from the guys behind the bar, I was laughing in the dressing room counting singles. All I had to do was just come out on the stage in my bikini and dance for fifteen minutes, and the amount of money I made was equivalent to what I would make after the whole day work at the cosmetics store. I knew after that first stage that I was not going back to the store anymore.
I don’t remember the very first customer I came up to. I don’t remember my very first lap dance. But I remember well the twenties that I was counting standing next to the big black bouncer in the lap dance room.
- You’re gonna do great here, - he smiled at me, - you’re a very pretty girl. They all love you.
- Thank you, - I smiled back at him and tied the money up with the rubber band. – I’ll do my best.
I suddenly felt very free. I realized that this job was my light at the end of the tunnel. I knew that my life will change to the best since now on. I was at the very bottom for so long and now I finally did my very first, very little baby step back to the top. Everything will change very soon.
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My new career was taking off very fast. In a month I paid off everything I owed to aunt Anna, who, inspired by the new money flow, became nice to me again. I went shopping to TJ Max and got several sets of sexy lingerie (I realized pretty fast that dancing in my bikini won’t get me too many lap dances), some stockings, garter belts and also a set of fine real hair extensions. Good girl Mila was fully replaced by the hot Milana – the stage name I took, - who now looked more like a Victoria’s Secret model than like a faculty of foreign languages graduate.
My agent Tasha advised me from the very beginning to try different go-go bars all over New Jersey to find the perfect one for me. Some of them were nice, some were pretty shitty, and that’s how I crossed out “The Stable” from my list forever. It was an interesting experience though; unlike all other New Jersey clubs, the manager was collecting the house fee at the beginning of the shift, and besides that the fee was much higher than in other clubs. I still have no idea what was the reason, maybe some girls didn’t mind making a couple of extra bucks doing things in the room; maybe some of them liked doing coke with the owner (I’m surprised how he still hasn’t died from the overdose), but I, who didn’t even drink alcohol at work, couldn’t possibly find it all attractive.
The public was mixed at “The Stable”: unlike the very first club where I worked, the all-Spanish “Rocket”, here I found a couple of decent customers who I made pretty good money from that night.
I already had the whole story made up and learned by heart, since the questions they were asking were always the same: where are you from? Where do you live? Are you a J-1? Are you going to school? What do you want to be when you grow up? “Thank you, honey, I only drink Red Bull... Yes, I am older than 21… Because I want to be sober to make more money… I’m an F-1 student, I study business… I’m dancing because I have to pay my tuition and also save money for the future… I live with my family here… Yes, they know I’m a dancer. Speaking of dancing, would you like to go for a dance?”
I also had the whole set of questions ready for them and had it all down to the science. “Hi, honey (charming smile and my hand on his shoulder), how are you tonight? I’m doing fantastic, thank you (I’m sitting down next to him). What’s your name? Milana, very nice to meet you. Of course it’s a real name, it’s quite a regular Russian name (another charming smile). I’m from Moscow. Have you ever been there? You definitely should go! Oh, it’s beautiful, but go during the summer when the weather is nice and all girls are wearing high heels and short skirts. So you basically get to see go-go girls like these everywhere you go! (sexy laughter) You know, I’m so glad to finally meet a nice guy like you here! You know, most of the customers are dirty perverts here, but I could tell right away that you are a real gentleman (this easy trick would always work like a charm with every single one of them: it would make them understand that I’m not going to do anything nasty in the room and at the same time would make them feel good about themselves – they are better than the rest of the customers and so they will have to act this way). Oh, you’re a doctor? That’s so great, my grandma is a doctor, I love medicine so much! So how do you like the club? How often do you come here? What other clubs do you go to? Do you like sports? (every heterosexual man loves sports and they love talking to a girl who follows the games, and I knew the score of every team of every kind of sports, - watching TV was my only entertainment while dancing on stage).
Soon the customer would be so happy to find such a beautiful, smart and well-spoken girl who also knows the sports that he would ask me for several dances himself. The doctor that night, however, got so intimidated by my “smarts and perfectness” that he couldn’t even go dance with me, but instead was giving me money showers every time I got on stage.
The bartenders in “The Stable” were very rude and would easily get annoyed by the dancers collecting the tips behind the bar as they were getting in their way. I found Lana talking to the owner and after a minute came to the conclusion that I’ve never seen a bigger coke-head and a retard. One of the dancers in the dressing room who had both her nipples pierced and God knows what else, was complaining that she scratched one of them while giving a lap dance (how???). One of the customers who I was dancing for, tried to get into my panties and after I said that I don’t do stuff like that “because I’ll get in trouble”, tried to reassure me that it’s ok because he knows the owner. Well honey, you may know the President of the United States and you still won’t get anything from me. Now it’s most likely clear why I put “The Stable” in my black list and forgot it like a bad dream, forever.
Chapter 7
Since I liked my new income and didn’t really have any personal life, I started working 4 or 5 nights a week. Soon I became a pretty experienced dancer and could tell right away if the customer was worth something or if I shouldn’t even bother wasting my time. I also found out that those “worthy” customers were mainly stopping by two “higher level” clubs, in which only the best and the prettiest girls were working. Mastering my skills at the different clubs I soon knew that I was ready for an audition in both of the clubs, “Cigar Room” and “Exotics”. My agent Tasha, very happy with such a hard working girl like me, was more than ready to help. Shall I say, I passed both the auditions easily and soon was considered one of the best Tasha’s assets, one of the “higher level” girls. That felt good.
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They say when something has to go wrong, everything will go wrong. The same law however works the other way round too, and when my new job finally started to put my life back together piece by piece, my personal life also started to change for the best.
One Saturday morning, when I was having breakfast with my “happy family”, Ari suddenly suggested something:
- Mila, do you want to meet a nice guy?
By then I completely got over Ari, so I just smiled.
- What guy?
- He’s a good friend of mine, just came back from Moscow, he was visiting his father. That’s really sad, the whole family is here, but his father owns a chain of supermarkets in Russia or something and comes to New York only couple of times a year and my friend doesn’t really see him. But he studies a lot anyway. Decent guy. He’s renting an apartment in the city, along with his younger brother. So he told me he can’t date American girls, that’s why he asked me to find him a good Russian girl.
- But I’m not a good girl though, - I grin at Ari. – Don’t you think he will mind my career of choice?
- I think you’re very pretty and smart. And I also think that he’ll fall in love with you right away and wouldn’t care less if you are a dancer. He knows it’s just to pay your bills.
- Oh, so he already knows about me, huh? – Ari is so easy to catch. He never had enough smarts to cover things up…how could I even fall in love with him in the first place?
- He does, - Ari moves his mug closer to aunt Anna so she could pour more water into his tea. A typical spoiled Jewish son. Thank God things didn’t work out between us! I would’ve have to become his second mom and take care of him instead of my aunt. Thank God again! – I told him I have a very pretty cousin who just came from Moscow and living with us. I even showed him your picture and now he can’t wait to take you out.
Aunt Anna is feeding Tonya from the table again. And after that she’s complaining that the dog is spoiled and doesn’t listen to anyone. She listens to me though after I gave her a nice beating for biting me! Since then our relationship changed greatly and now we have a mutual understanding that I’m the boss in the house and she’s just a frigging dog, so she has to listen to everything I say.
- I guess I don’t have a choice now, - I reach for my phone. – Is he pretty at least?
- Oh yeah, good looking guy!
- Who, Michael? – aunt is finally done with the dog feeding. – Oh, such a nice boy! And he’s Jewish too!
- My grandpa’s name was Michael. Ok, I guess it’s a fate. – I smile and shrug. – Give me his number.
Later that day I called Michael and we set a date for Monday. I never worked Mondays as those were the dead days in all clubs. And whether he wants it or not, he will have to work with my schedule, not vice versa. I decided to make it clear from the very beginning: my job comes first, because I simply refuse to be miserable, ever again.
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Michael met me at one of the hot sushi spots in Manhattan and looked nothing like I expected him to look. Instead of snobbish, arrogant, rich daddy’s son with the silver spoon up his ass, I met a young, shy Jewish boy with big and sad puppy eyes. He was an absolute gentleman and nothing like a Russian guy (and I can’t stand Russian men for all the gold in the world). At my “sorry, I’m 30 minutes late” he only smiled and politely answered that such a beautiful young lady is worth several hours of waiting. I liked that.
I felt on the same page with Michael right away: we both liked classic Russian ballet, sushi and New York. We ordered some specials and hot sake, which I tried for the first time in my life trusting my charming date and found it pretty good. We were talking about Moscow and New York and shared the same love for the latter, even though Michael was born here and visited Moscow only from time to time.