For those of you who have read my previous pole-related post, you’ll know that my first attempt on a club pole was not the most graceful. In fact I still cringe when I remember how Vanessa stormed away from me to sulk on a far away sofa, believing I wasn’t taking her teaching efforts seriously. Sadly, I really was trying. I was just doing an appalling job.
I first had the chance to do a public pole dance about two weeks later. By public, I mean in front of a group of customers. It was an unusually slow night. If it hadn’t been, I’m sure a more experienced girl would have nabbed the stage and therefore their attention before I had the chance. There were only four other girls working that night , two of which were away eating/smoking. Eventually, a group of five young Swiss lads came in giggling like Spongebob and Patrick in a toy shop. I was quite thrilled to find that one of them looked like a slightly shorter version of Breaking Bad’s Jessie, only a fair bit more educated. This night was turning out to be not so bad after all!
I warmly introduced myself and began chatting happily to them. They all seemed rather sweet and innocent, a group of uni lads on getaway together. Quite a contrast to the meth cook Jessie Pinkman. Remembering an early scene from the series where Jessie and his two buddies nick the thousands of dollars Walt gave him to buy an RV with to spend on a crazy night with champagne and strippers, I can’t help but think “If only!”
After a good long chat, they ask about prices for dances. Understandably, they’re a bit hesitant to spend a full £10 on a quick 3 minute private dance without knowing anything about how I dance (they’re hard up students after all, believe me I get that). And so, they ask how much it would be to have me on the pole first. We’re usually expected to do stage dances for free as part of rotation, but no one enforces that on quiet nights like this. I was quite happy at the idea of being paid to go on the pole. At the same time, I was unhappy that my private dance potential was going to be judged by my pole dancing. I’m not ashamed to say that my private dances are top notch. My stage dancing, on the other hand, was still pretty shit.Still, it was definitely worth a try right? Especially one where I got paid.
I turned to them,”Tell you what, I’ll go on stage for you lot if one of you gives a £5 tip.”
Jessie’s eyes widened “You mean I give you £5 and you dance for all of us?” he asked incredulously, gesturing towards his mates.
I nodded “Yes, a £5 tip and I’ll dance for all of you on the stage” I emphasized. They had better not be thinking they were all getting a private dance while only paying a fiver!
The boys seemed overjoyed by the idea and could barely contain their excitement. After tossing me a fiver they huddled over to the stage next to the bar, fidgeting in anticipation. I shook my head and headed over to Neil, the barman/DJ. And people say I’m too innocent for this place! I thought, looking over towards the lads.
Neil and Sophie, the only other girl on the floor, had been deep in conversation when I approached and explained the situation.
“Nice! How much are they paying?” Sophie asked me.
“Just a fiver, but I’m not complaining.”
“A fiver! Naw, ah wouldnae complain either. Ah usually have tae go on the stage fer free!”
Neil nodded in agreement. “Good thing on a night like this too. So what’s your pole song?”
“Uh…I don’t have one yet.” I replied meekly. “What’s easy to dance to?”
“Use mine if you like. It’s nice and slow and real easy. Don’t nick it though! This is only for tonight, then you need to pick your own alright? I’m sick of bitches nicking my songs!” Sophie then began a short rant on how Vanessa always likes to nick all her pole songs, which was true.
“Thank you! I promise I won’t. What song is it?”
Apparently it was Skin by Rihanna. I can see why Vanessa pinched it. It began slow with sensual lyrics which gradually sped up. I hopped on stage ready to go. Should I wear my shoes or not? I knew I would dance much better without them, but it’s hard to look like a stripper barefoot. I decided to keep my fabulous 7 inchers on.
The lads all looked dizzily delighted now that the show had finally begun. I tried to hide how terrified I was and find the rhythm to the music. I kept the moves simple, mostly dancing sexily around the pole without any impressive tricks or spins. It was going well. I was well into the beat and the lads looked as happy as ever. Bless them. By near the end of the song, I was well into it and fully enjoying myself. I thought I would end with a spin. After all, why not? It couldn’t be going better and I knew how to do several spins really well from fitness classes. It would be pure cowardliness not to try one. And so I decided to finish off with simple backwards spin. I swung back with full force. This was sure to impress them! Then I heard a loud clang, a yelp and a smash. My right foot suddenly felt far lighter than it had a mere second ago. I had forgotten that the zips on the back of my shoes were both broken from when I over zealously pulled on them off to do them up after a dance the other night. My right shoe had been sent flying from my foot and skidded across the length of the bar past Neil and Sophie and knocked over a beer bottle on its way through. Neil looked around himself in a state of shock. “Don’t tell me I have to start wearing a helmet to work here now! I have enough of that in the day (he does construction work doing daylight hours).
“Sorry!” I shouted over to him meekly. It hadn’t quite been the grand finale I’d had in mind. I began to slink off stage to retrieve my shoe. What a way to end! Once my shoe was back in place, Jessie came up to me. Apparently he had still enjoyed my performance despite my major fuck up. “You are amazing! We all want a private dance.” He looked more than ever like an over-excited schoolboy.
I looked at him slightly bewildered for a second. “Sure! Wait all five of you?”
“Yeah,” he nodded enthusiastically. “How much?”
“It’s £10 per person, per song. Five is a lot in one go though. How about we all do a double dance with Sophie? It costs you the same and you get to see two girls.”
He looked over towards Sophie. “Okay, if she’s as good as you.” Well yes, I thought. When she dances, her shoes don’t become an airborne hazard.
I went over to Sophie excitedly and told her that we’d both scored danced on this dreary night. “Nice. Wait are they doin’ VIP or just normal dances?” She slouched back down again after hearing that they weren’t up for VIP. “Nah, ah think am alright hen. If they’re no doin’ VIP I cannae be bothered. Ahm just gonna sit here with Neil and ma wine. Thanks though, really.” I was disappointed. It felt like a good way to give back after she had let me borrow her song for my own profit.
Feeling slightly despondent, I went back over to Jessie and his lads and told them we were on our own. “That’s fine. So all of us together is £10 each, yes? So £50.”
“Indeed it is. So how would you like to do it? Two guys together and one on their own?”
They gave one another a quick glance. “Can’t we all go in? We want to be together.” I explained to them that there’s only so much one girl can do in only three minutes when there are five guys at once. They seemed unfazed and insisted in going together as a group.”Well, okay.” I shrugged. “It’s your party. Let me see which booth has the most room.”
And so I then had the challenge of pleasing five customers at once in a three minute time frame. What had been an incredibly slow night had quickly become a rather eventful one. I did the best I could to evenly split the time to each of the boys, seating two on one side and three on the other where all could see me. Thankfully, they were all really pleased. Not that they seemed a particularly hard lot to please. “Une autre!” called out one and then three of them decided to go for another song. Fine by me. When I had finished with their second song, I went out to chat with them again. It didn’t matter to me if I did any more dances that night. I had already earned by far the most in the club that night. Jessie reached into his backpack and pulled out another £20. “Can you dance for just me now?” he beamed. “Sure!” was what I told him. Internally, I was jumping for joy that I was going to get to do a private dance with a Swiss version of Jessie Pinkman. This was a fantastic night! After the £20 had run out, he then bought another two dances. In less than an hour, I had made £125 on a lonely Monday night.
When Jessie and I finally returned to the club floor, April and Summer, the two girls who had been eating/smoking that entire time came up to me. “Did you just dance for all five of those guys at once?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. They didn’t want to go in separately. I asked Sophie to do a double with me, but she wasn’t feeling it.”
“Right”, said Summer. “Well don’t do that again. It’s against club rules. No more than two customers at once per girl unless it’s a stag party in the VIP room. Otherwise it’s not fair on the rest of us if you’re the only one making money.” And with that they went off back to hang out in the dressing room.
Sophie came up to me shaking her head. “Did they seriously just bitch at you because they’re not getting the work when you’re the one on the floor and they’re sitting on their far arses? Don’t you worry pal, you did great. If they want paid, they have to learn that they have to work for it like the rest of us!”
I wasn’t at all bothered. I was incredibly merry for the rest of the week after that. The only thing that bothered me was not getting a picture with my Jessie Pinkman lookalike to show all my pals at uni to.