Before leaving for Stripper Paradise I had every intention of writing like mad, sharing story after story about my first experiences in a real strip club. Alas, after working 8+ hour shifts (by choice), leaving in the evening tired, smelly, hungry, both myself and Crush desperately needing to vent to each other about the day's profits and losses, endearing patrons and creeps, and wanting to do nothing more than take a hot bath to sooth our swollen knees and overstimulated minds, I just couldn't physically do it.
Today was my least profitable, least memorable, shortest, and last day in the New Mexican strip club. The game is now old hat, today a blur of yays and nays, grinding and whining, and, surprisingly, I was even approached by a fresh dancer for the strip club low-down. I have certainly learned a lot in the last 7 days, for which I must forever be thankful to my travel companion Crush and my incredible good luck. I boarded a plane, landing in a new city without a money-making back-up plan and hoping to get hired at my audition, going all or nothing.
After a few days of recovery and relaxation I will write more about what I have seen, felt, heard, and inferred within the four dark walls of the typical Southwestern club, but I promise it will take some time. I am exhausted both physically and emotionally, battered and bolstered in ways I never thought possible and now it is time to fly back to my regular crazy life and hope to find some time to process everything I have experienced. As I heard Cage The Elephant sing a thousands times over the past week, "there ain't no rest for the wicked."
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