A digital recreation of an article published in “New QT” magazine Vol1 No1
"The first time I was given the job of stripping at a private party, I was a little bit nervous. I really thought that all the people there would be men, and to be honest, I was afraid they would all try and attack me. I’m not that prudish, otherwise I wouldn’t be doing what I am, but I really was scared. When I got there, I saw that it wasn’t just men, but quite an interesting gathering of all kinds of people, most of them fairly well dressed and respectable looking. When the small band started playing, I just went into my act, and I noticed that they were really enjoying it. I must say, that I’ve done quite a bit of practising. I wanted to be a dancer when I was little, but they told me that I was too tall, and you ‘can’t be, to do ballet. So after a number of years doing go-go and disco dancing, I started striptease. The money was better, and it was something new. Besides I’m not ashamed of what I look like, not one bit.
Anyway, after this first party (and by the size of the cheque, I knew they appreciated it) I was all set to hire out as a private striptease dancer. They all haven’t been as pleasant as the first one though, but I think I’ve only been in about three circumstances where it really became pretty unbearable. There was one time when I had to go to a bachelor party. I’d done a few of them before, and each time they had all been real gentlemen, and just were settled with enjoying themselves. Well, this one time, after I started going into the act, one of the fellows, who was obviously well oiled with booze, started saying a lot of rude things, which I tried to ignore. I just continued, but then more of them started in.
The chap who was getting married looked pretty upset, but there wasn’t much he could do. Suddenly someone grabbed me, and in an instant, they were all over the place, tugging and trying to get at me. Then I heard the crack of a fist, and everything came to a halt. There was this big fellow, lying on the floor, holding his jaw. The guest of honour was standing over him, telling him that he had better get out. He took me aside and thanked me for coming, but said that I had better leave too, and that he would take me home. I was a bit wary, but I could see that his intentions were sincere. I dressed, and we left in a hurry.
It was a quiet ride home, and when we got to my fiat, I leaned over and gave him a kiss and wished him good luck. He thanked me and put £50 in my hand. I was stunned, and said that It shouldn’t be that much since I hadn’t done the full show. He said it was alright, and that it wasn’t enough to make up for the insult the others had caused. I thanked him again, and got out. I’ve done only a few bachelor parties since, and none have been as exciting as that, but that is the kind of excitement that I can live without. "Now, it is mostly private affairs, and I really enjoy doing it. The people who have employed me are always grateful, and it is really quite a lot of fun.
There are times when I have no music, and the men will talk to me, often getting rather rude, but never so nasty. It is usually just a lot of fun, and no one ever gets offended. "All in all, I’d say that as long as I can get the work, I’ll keep doing it. I might add that if anyone is considering it, be prepared for little incidents like I’ve described. They don’t happen that often, but when they do, you just have to remember not to panic, and, if you’ll excuse the pun, keep your shirt on !"