The line is thin

Ever so often, I catch glimpses of dancesport techniques from one of the strippers performing on stage. It’s like a bad after taste you get after smoking your first cigarette. I can’t help but stare.

A revulsion at the corruption of the art. A sense of disbelief that they’d be desperate enough to be showing up here. But between rent ($500), food ($300), lessons ($400), Competitions ($100) and costumes ($100) a month. Who am I to point fingers at someone who has dedicated their life to the art.
Though the enjoyment on their face while performing solo dances for customers certainly made me reconsider whether they are in such predicament at all. I failed to take into account that they might be enjoying this. Looking back now, I have to laugh at myself because I certainly felt like “Knight in shining armor” wanting to save a “Damsel in distress.”. Some of us actually enjoys the drama of a rotten situation.

I was able to make light of the whole situation and lay back to be an observer due to some funny interaction between Mark and financee. It was their first time at a strip club together. Very cute. Later, we discussed about this particular sensation of being eyed on by a bunch of lioness stalking for a fresh kill. Eye contact is very dangerous and it was only the expertise of Adrianne that saved us out from insane amount of unplanned spendings on lap dances.
This is as close as I can get to understand what being a girl is like at a club or bar.