Under Christy's mentorship, I blossomed at the club. She took me to different dance classes-salsa, swing, even ballet-to teach me how to use my body effectively. "The key" she would say "is to build a strong core. It's all in the abs and the hips."
By the end of the first few weeks my body felt like a pile of twisted muscle. "Ugh" I whined, laying on her couch, "this is dumb! I don't want to go to one more, not ONE MORE, of these horrid little classes you have me taking. No one is paying this much attention."
Christy gave me a disapproving look, "Em" she started, "what do you make right now?"
Off the top of my head I could only guess, "Depends on the night. Around seven hundred a night, on the weekends."
She looked at me intently, "Okay. Guess what I make."
I was sure she made more than me but I was decent. I made a lot on the dances and I would regularly get guys asking for a private dance, and I rarely saw her dance on stage. So I lowballed, "A thousand?"
She gave me a little twinkling laugh, "Try twenty-five hundred, babygirl. On a slow night."
Twenty-five hundred dollars?! "After house cut?" I asked, hanging my hat that maybe it was an exaggeration.
"After house cut." she said.
I had no idea she made that kind of money. She was good and certainly deserved it, but the fact that she made so much and I made so little in comparison made me feel cheap. Then she said "Look-you want to know how I do it? By having regulars, men who are willing to pay for MY time. We're in the city with some excellent dancers and competition, you can't rely on looks alone. You want regulars, you have to earn them. You need to be in the best shape, with fresh routines. Listen to them, focus your energy on entertaining them. You get me?"
I hung my head, "Yeah. But what's the difference in knowing all these different dances. You don't have to do ballet for any of them right?"
She laughed again, "It's not about the dance itself, it's about understanding all of the different ways your body can move. Learning the motions. You'll get some that like smooth moves, others that like more powerful moves like the kind you see in salsa or hip hop. Your body needs to be able to accommodate their wants."
She let that hang in the air for a moment, then sat on the floor next to where I was on the couch. I saw her sitting there, and started to sit up when I felt her hand on my lap. "What are you..." I started.
"I want you to stay seated. I can see why my lesson isn't sinking in." As I pondered the meaning behind her words she said suddenly "You've never received a lap dance, have you?"
"Uh, no" I replied.
With that, she smiled wider than ever before. Without saying more she got up, walked to her iPod that was already plugged into her stereo, skimmed through her selection and chose the song-"Mazzy Star-Fade Into You" came on. As soon as the, "I wanna hold the hand inside you" lyric came on, she closed her eyes and faded into the music.