Intelligent Stripping

You are young, beautiful, love to be naked and love money, but life still sucks. You decide to become... a stripper. What happens now? A flash of a boob here and a shake of your ass there usually equates to big dollars. To the outsider, it might seem simple. Its simplicity could be why our industry is looked down upon. We are not necessarily changing the world through our actions. Yet, here we are, partaking in a piece of freedom.

There is freedom for all naked businesses. We enjoy the freedom to take off our clothes at work, the freedom to have a cocktail, smoke a cigarette, and to request our favorite song, all at work. We enjoy the freedom to dress scantily, to wear gaudy makeup and coat our bodies with sweet-scented perfumes and sprays, not to mention the freedom to dance around, wiggle, jiggle, shake, bend over and smile, all while raindrops of dollars dance upon your feet.

After the lights come on, the customers all leave, and the DJ is going home, you wad up your cash, get your aching feet out of those damn shoes and drag your tired ass home. It's the long drive home that can put one over the edge. Your body starts to crave that energy and that angst. You either need to kill it or push it with a cigarette, a cocktail, perhaps a little Mary Jane, a muscle relaxer, or sleeping pills. It is tough to simply come home from work, say your prayers and hug your teddy bear. Although, I think I have done that a few times.

The quiet late night after work is like waking up from a mysterious dream. You are disorientated and confused because the music is still ringing in your head. You can feel the creepy guys' eyes still staring at you. The chauvinistic comments repetitively dance in your brain while you have a little cocktail buzz, along with the disappointment of the cheap customer who wouldn't tip.

Going home after a night like this, which is every night, can start to wear one's inner beauty. You have to reassure yourself that you are still beautiful, a glance in the mirror can make things seem all better, as its instant gratification. We know it is just a band-aid for our hidden inner misery. A combination of beauty and sex is satisfying. This is when stripping and misery become a vicious cycle. It never really ends, but it feels like there is going to be an end at some point in time. I'm just not sure when.

Tips for Intelligent Stripping

I'd like to propose the idea of Intelligent Stripping. It saddens me to see so many exotic dancers failing to recognize the simplicity in their work, the amount of money that they make, and the notion that this money can work for them. Stripping can be a vehicle for so much more.

You can strip your way to a bachelor's degree, a master's degree, or a doctorate, strip your way to retirement, buy a house, invest, travel the world, save money for a child or a husband, and use the money to build a business.

You don't work long hours nor work on a schedule. You just need to show up, get naked, take your money, and do something with it.

• I dare every female stripper to do something else with their money besides buying clothes, cocktails, or other kinky stuff.
• I dare you to take 20% of your tips and put it in an IRA account.
• I dare you to start a small business.
• I dare you to seek your passions in life and invest your money into those passions.

After all, there is going to be an end after 25 years, 30, 35, or maybe 40. Be aware that this job can rob you of your spirituality, inner beauty, and, amazingly enough, your money. Be a smart exotic dancer. Stripping is not a crime. Stripping is the same as life, a game. How much can you get out of it? Most importantly, in the end, will you win or lose?