Z Bone's real diary for November 1999

For some very complicated reasons, I didn't participate in AFTSD last
year, and I decided that baring a catastrophe, I would participate this
year.  I know that I have pretty much neglected ASSC this year, but I do
still lurk now and then.  For what it's worth, here's my little
contribution to ASSC for this year.

Some in the media as well as most of us here at ASSC tend to want to
paint dancers in a good light because of all the negative stereotypes
that have plagued the industry for so many years.  We like stories about
the stripper that used her money to go to college and became a great 1st
amendment lawyer or the one that became a big porno star and used her
fame for charities for children.

Of course, we all know, that's not the norm.  Those success stories are
hard to find.  I find that the average dancer marries an ordinary guy,
pops out a couple of kids and lives happily, for the most part, just
like everybody else.  I think that's a success story.  Being average can
be good too.

This is a short story of one particular dancer on one particular night.
I picked her, not because I know her well, but because I don't. As some
of you already know, I've been through the mill in terms of knowing too
much about too many dancers. I've gotten to the point where I'd rather
not know any more.  It's too tiring.  It's too much of an energy vampire
for me.

Over the years, I've gotten more and more jaded and less and less
tolerant of dancers and their antics. This, of course, does not bode
well for the dancer that gets me on the wrong day.  As some of you old
time ASSCers know, I sometimes play a wannabe DJ at a strip club.

On one particular night, a dancer, (we'll call her "Lilly") asked me
when she would be on stage.  I told her she would be on soon and to
check the list on the wall for her name.  After a little while, she came
back again with the same question.  I became incensed, and pointed at
the list and loudly said, "Here is where we are on the list. See where
you are below?"

As I looked at her face, I realized something that had escaped me before
this incident.  She did not seem to know where her name was on the list.
In an instant, it became clear to me that she was illiterate.  This
possibility had escaped me previously and I just thought she was stupid.
Suddenly, I felt bad for my actions and gently held her hand.  I raised
her hand up to the list, pulled her forefinger out for her, and pointed
her finger to her name.  The expression on her face seemed to reflect
the sadness that seemed to fill her from being embarrassed over the
years by others.

I told her quietly, that she could ask me again, anytime she wanted to.
She smiled at me.  For the first time, I really looked at her face as a
person, and not as just another dancer.  Her teeth were very crooked,
indicating to me that she probably had never been to the dentist as a
child.  She's not the beauty that one imagines of a stripper, but her
smile lit her face up and the glow gave me a moment with her that I can
still recall.  She turned and left the DJ booth without saying another
word.

The floater came by the booth later in the evening and told me that
Lilly had been drinking too much and should not be put on the stage for
the rest of the night.  At the end of the night, Lilly returned to the
DJ booth and indeed she was walking in a stupor.  Never had I seen her
this way before.  She came to give me my tip, which she placed in my
hand.  Then she put more money into my pocket and said with her very
strong accent, "That's for you.  Only for you.  Just for you."

I looked at her and told her that it was not necessary to tip me extra.
She repeated her words and looked down and seemed to be in a half
unconscious state.  I thanked her genuinely and lowered my head to kiss
her cheek, as I had done with her before.  But on this occasion, she
seemed to come out of her stupor in a frightened state and pushed me
away.  In that fraction of a second, she seemed to wake up, apologized
with a simple "Sorry" and started to cry and left quickly.

I didn't know what to make of her actions.  I didn't know why she was
apologizing to me or why she started to cry. Did I do something wrong?
Was she in some other state of mind and remembered some bad experience
with a boyfriend or family member?  Was it just what people do sometimes
when they are too drunk?  I guess I'll never know what was going through
her head then, and she doesn't seem to recall the incident after that
night.

As for me, I'm a lot nicer to her and maybe a little nicer to everyone.
At least that's what I'd like to think. Maybe that's just my
rationalization after being a jackass.  Who knows?  Well, that's my
story for 1999.  See you in Y2K.

__________
Z Bone
http://zbone.com/
News, views and reviews of LA strip clubs