“You’re really beautiful, you know.” He is slightly balding, wearing comfy shoes, with subtle gold jewelry, and he was stuck staring at my eyes, lips, and cleavage.
“Aw, thanks,” I lower my eyes demurely for second, then grin. “I was born that way.”
He smiles, of course. The guys who think it’s a joke never spend much, but the ones who smile and appreciate the truth are always big spenders.
“It’s even better when I’m in your lap,” I tell him.
“Yeah, how ’bout a lap dance?”
I restrain my eye rolling and laugh to cover my brattiness. “I don’t do that cheap stuff, honey. If you want me it’ll be in the champagne room.”
“Oh, of course.” Definitely: of course. You’re worth is whatever you project it to be.
He buys an hour in the champagne room, and when the waitress comes I giggle and tell him to order the expensive champagne. At the end of the hour he pays for another hour, and then another. In the end I break his credit card (there’s a certain kind of stripper pride and status when you max out a guys card), and make close to a grand off him, just because I told him I was entitled to it.
One of the reasons that I love stripping is because it is such a true little replica of real life. Whatever you need to learn about life, you can probably learn it in the strip club. It took me a few years of dancing to figure out why those certain women always sold the whole nights worth of champagne rooms. You know what it turned out they had that I didn’t? A sense of entitlement. This is why young women from richer backgrounds will almost always start out making more as a stripper than young women who grew up with less: they grew up knowing they were entitled to it all.
So, if you don’t know, let me tell you: whatever you can believe and project to others that you are entitled to, you can have. Try it. It’s fun.
At first I went crazy with it. I was entitled to everything, from anyone who happened to be around, and it worked! It wasn’t that I was entitled because I was hot. I would never be that superficial. No, I was entitled just because I existed. (It’s a joke, people, hold the hate mail.) I think a few people tried to clue me in to what an annoying brat I was being, but I was too busy with my entitlement to notice. I took it very seriously. It was a matter of survival, practically, getting all these things. Being able to get them was a measure of my ability to survive whatever the next catastrophe was.
I don’t remember when, exactly, but eventually I realized how awfully I was behaving and became very ashamed of my constant entitlement. It might have been when I pressured a sweet young boy into blowing his rent on me, and then ended up feeling bad and paying his rent for him. I was acting just like the people I’d always disliked. So I dialed it down to zero when clothed, and just a dull roar at work. Still, if you’re in sales it’s a great tool, and even in real life there are times when it will serve you well.
If you’re a new dancer, get entitled, you’ll make more money and have more fun. If you’ve just discovered your entitlement or are one of those strippers who seem unfortunately stuck in a permanent state of hyper-entitlement: tone it down, honey. It’s a hustling tool, not a universal truth. But here’s a universal truth: valuing yourself highly will give you the same income boost and make it more fun for yourself and other people to be around you.