Jack-Offs Taking Us Girls Out to Eat

Beign a stripper draws you to many men who are after your body. Some people refer to them as "stage-door Johnnys". Most of us strippers back then referred to them as "jack-offs". We would get everything we could out of them without going to bed with them. One thing we could always count on was a free meal out of them anytime. They were always wanting to "take us out to eat".

It got to the point where it was better to be hungry or buy my own food. Most of the time when a "jack-off" would take me out to eat, he would just stare at me. No matter what I talked about, I could see him undressing me with his eyes.

It was good to have these guys around to pick up the tab for a lot of things such as food or clothes or whatever else I could think to use them. But for the most part, the aggravation of their presence was not worth it.

Fasting and the Dancing Telling Me it was a Beautiful Thing...

It really makes me sad to know that so many "regular", "normal" people do not possess some of the good, aesthic feelings and attitudes that a lot of the strippers who I worked with had. Most of these girls had crossed over the brink of normality and were living in a mental world of spirituality above what the basic normal, everyday person cannot understand and will never attain. I attained this level of thought and have kept it all through my life.

I was in the early stages of learning how to fast. I was at the little cafe, The Golden Pheasant in Canton, Ohio - next to the burlesk theater, The State Theater. I was drinking only liquids that day. Even though I was used to it because I did it quite frequently, at least, one day a week, it was still difficult to do, especially, with everyone around me eating. But I had reached the level of thought and consciousness that permitted me to surpass my hunger pains and led me to a higher level.

Not many people understand this way yof life. It made me feel really good when one of the strippers sitting across from me said, "Wild Star, what you are doing is a beautiful thing." At that point, I knew the people I was associating with were real and good. I knew that I would never know people like this back home. Nobody back there would ever be able to comprehend in the slightest what she was talking about. I do not remember her name or even what she looked like. But that one sentence has stuck in my mind for the rest of my life, especially, when I fast; and I know that it is right.

"She's the Pretty One"

At John's military school, they would have an award's day at the end of the school year. After all the programs and award ceremonies, the boys would leave for the summer with their parents.

Colonel Jones told me that John was looking all around for me. He said he asked John what I looked like. John replied, "Oh! She's the pretty one!"

"She's the Pretty One"

At John's military school, they would have an award's day at the end of the school year. After all the programs and award ceremonies, the boys would leave for the summer with their parents.

Colonel Jones told me that John was looking all around for me. He said he asked John what I looked like. John replied, "Oh! She's the pretty one!"

Giving My Kids to a 'Regular' Family

I have always prided myself with the fact that I raised my two kids on my own with no help from anyone. There were many difficult times due to lack of money. There were many happy times. The happy times far outnumbered the difficult times. The whole time my kids were little and needed me was happy - even though we were not as well-off as most.

I always placed their needs and desires above anything and anybody. I know this made them happy; but it, also, made me happy.

Some people told me to give my children to a "regular" family - a mom and dad situation - and quit dragging them all over the country. But I loved them and still do more than life itself. I could not bare to think about them being with someone else.

Many tell me this was selfish and maybe it was. But I am able to look in the mirror today and know that I did the best I knew how and did not give them up.

If I would have given them up, maybe they would have been happier. But I would not go back and change it. I would keep my kids. Maybe I really am a selfish person drowning my selfishness with love. Mybe I was reallly placing my great desire before my children which was to have them with me. Maybe all the good things I did for them was really for me.

John's Declamation

While raising my children, I always put their needs and desires above everything and everybody. My mother always taught me what whe learned from her mother - "Other things will come and go; but your kids will always be there. You are not worth what you are made of if you do not take care of your kids." This has been a valuable lesson she taught me; and I carried it through all the difficult but happy times while raising my kids. I placed their desires above everything, even money, which I needed desperately because I was the only source of revenue for all of us.

It was nearing time for me to go to pick up my kids from their boarding schools. John's military school was going to have a little program. He was going to receite a little poem which he called, "my declamation." It was a contest. Whoever recited the best would win a medal. He had talked to me on the phone about it several times. He was so excited. He was really looking forward to my seeing him stand up in front of everyone and recite it; so was I.

A few days before his program, I got a call from my agent telling me that he had a booking for me for $600.00 for one week. I had not started making this much money and was estactic about it because this was the financial goal I had been trying to attain for a long time. There was only one problem. If I worked the week he wanted to book me, then I would miss John's declamation.

We needed the money. I called John and told him I was going to pick him up late because I had to work. He started crying, "You're gonna miss my declamation?!" That changed everything. I told him I would be there. He was happy and so was I. I needed this little six year old boy to remind me what was more important. And by the way, he won.

Fun Things Should Come First...

One of my main objectives in the raising of my children was to let them know that they had the choice of any lifestyle they desired. I was raised in a small town which was saturated with provincial thinking minds. Everybody was expected to meet certain status' of action. I wanted my kids to know that they did not have to act a certain way just because people thought they should.

In my hometown, any fun event was planned for months, even years ahead. I taught my children to do fun things on the "spur of the moment".

One example of this was when we would see such things as carnivals while we were traveling from one of my burlesk jobs to the next. I would pull over and stop the car; so we culd go to it. Sometimes I would be late for a show or miss some. But the loss of the money was worth it because I could see my kid's faces light up with joy.

People where I come from would not even dream of doing ths. "Work comes first! Fun comes later!" This small event would have to be planned ahead and worked around everything else.

As I look back now, I am glad I did different things like that. I almost always put the fun things first concerning my kids.

I once heard that when you come to die, you regret the things you did not do. "Life is short - eat your dessert first." I, also, heard, "I've talked to a lot of peole who were dying and none of them ever said that they wish they had spent more time working."

I instilled the desire for fun in my kids. I am glad I did this. I hope they will pass it on.

Doing My Headstand at the Bar

There was a bar right next door o the hotel where I stayed in Syracuse, New York. Some of the girls I was dancing with and I went there occasionally. One night we went there, and I got really crazy.

We were talking about my headstand that I did in my shows. All the guys wanted to see me do it. I told them that I could not do it without a pillow. One guy said, "Here's a pillow!" - as he patted his stomach. I said, "O.K.! I'll try it".

He laid down on the floor. I used ihs belly for a pillow and did my headstand. It was really funny!

That night the bar got on fire. I went next door to see the damage. The owner was there. He said, "Well, Wild Star. I guess you just made it too hot over here last night!"

The Other Side of Life from Being a Stripper....

When I was raising my two kids, I wanted them to know about "life". I, also, wanted them to have a good education. I sent them to boarding schools because I was dancing as a stripper on the road. John went to military school in Tennessee his first, second, third, and fifth grade year. Melissa went to a girl's Catholic school in Kentucky her first and third year.

I was trying to balance their life of a good formal education with the "street" education they learned from being wiith me because I took them everywhere with me - even in the burlesk theaters.

The life style I gave them; and the type of people they were around when with me provided their "street smarts" while the boarding schools gave them the best education that I felt possible.

My mother took care of them in Lamar, Missouri during Melissa's second grade year and John's fourth grade year. That was a mistake. She had sprained her back from lifting at the nursing home where she worked. My dad told me I should have her take care of the kids and give her the money I paid to the schools to help her out. They were divorced at the time; but evidently he still cared about her.

Everytime I do something against what I feel is right, I mess up. I thought that maybe he was right, and I should do this to help her. It turned out disasterous.

Evidently her back made a full recovery or she had it cooked up with my dad to get money out of me. I paid her to keep the kids. She ended up going back to work. The kids went to school in the daytime. Mama worked from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m.; so the babysitter picked them up from school. She worked the weekends; so they were at the babysitters then, too. Mama had it worked out to be with them as little as possible and still get money from me. They hated it that year, especially, John. I was sorry I left them with her and still am.

During Melissa's fourth and fifth grade and John's sixth and seventh grade, they went to two different Catholic schools in Canton, Ohio. I was in love and wanted to be around him. I got a lot of work at the theater and worked at other dancing jobs in cities close by - such as Akron, Ohio, Youngstown, Ohio, and Pittsburgh, Pa.

John's eighth grade and Melissa's sixth grade was partially spent in Canton. Melissa was still in Catholic School; but John was too old for this school. I sen thom to a public school - wrong decision! John was used to discipline and rules. This was a typical public school which let the kids run wild. This was the main reason I moved back to Lamar, Missouri for the rest of the school year.

I decided that since John would be starting to high school next year - he needed to go to one school for four years. High school tuition at a military school was really expensive - more than I felt I could afford. I could have paid it; but I wanted to be with my kids; and I wanted John and Melissa to be settled in one school for their high school years.

The short time John went to the public school in Canton made me realize that if they had to go to public school, then it would be in a small town. John hated it. Melissa became wild.

I wish I would have kept them in the boarding schools for twelve years; so do they. It was an expensive, emotional experience that we all endured and a final decision fo me to make me realize to go by my own thoughts and emotions rather than what others "think I should do".

My Kids in the Upstairs Apartment

My kids were well-behaved. They always minded me. They were always with me unless they were at school. I even took them to work with me.

When I danced in one place for a few months, they would take one dressing room and convert it into their playroom. The girls I worked with while being a stripper were always nice to them. Everyone else I worked with wasa nice to them, too.

All the managers accepted them. I had no problem with the managers letting them stay in the dressing rooms while I did my shows except one. This was the manager in Syracuse, New York. He told me I could not have them in the dressing room. I told him, "Fine, then I won't work because they are too young to leave alone. I have to have them with me or I can't work".

For some reason, he changed his mind. We stayed the whole summer.

Bradley Apologizing to My Kids

I was dancing as a stripper in Syracuse, New York. My boss, Al Baker, had told me that I could work at this burlesk theater all summer to save on traveling expenses; since my kids would be out of their boarding schools for the summer.

The place all of the dancers stayed was the Hilton Hotel. It was not like the fancy Hilton Hotels. This hotel was an older one - like out of the early 1900's.

I was really happy, telling everyone my kids would be here all summer long. The manager, Bradley, wasted no time telling me that the hotel allowed "no kids". I wasted no time telling Bradley that I did not care what the hotel rules were. My kids would be staying at this hotel with me for the summer.

I left to go to Tennessee and Kentucky to get my children from their boarding schools. When we arrived back at the hotel, Bradley was at the desk. I introduced my kids to him. My son John, only six years old, shook his hand - manners he had learned from military school. Bradley once again told me - "no kids allowed". I once again told him they were staying. We walked to our room.

Bradley finally gave up. I really did not know why. I did know that we were going to stay. He would have had to call the police to get us out.

The kids had been there for about a month. Bradley told me he needed to tell me something. He said he wanted to apologize for telling me that my kids could not stay at the hotel. He told me they could stay there as long as I wanted. He said they were the most well-behaved kids he had ever seen in his life. I said, "I know. Now you are going to apologize to my kids". He said, "Oh! No! I told you. That's enough!" I told him that that was not enough and that he would apologize to them.

I brought my kids down from the room. I told them Bradley had something to tell them. He said, "No, I don't!" We just stood there. I said, "Tell them, Bradley!" Finally, after about fifteen minutes or so he gave in. He apologized to my kids and told them how good they were and that they could stay here as long as they wanted. I guess he finally gave in because he knew we would stand there until he did.

I always appreciated his verbal acknowledgement reagarding my kids behavior. I always respect a person who is big enough to say, "I was wrong".

More Detectives Trying to Take me to Bed

Another incident with a detective occurred that was not quite so funny. He was not quite as subtle as the one I just mentioned. He would come right out and ask me to go out with him which I knew meant only one thing - bed. He was young, good looking, and cocky. But this did not cut any ice with me.

One night after work, I was driving home and noticed a car following me - flashing the headlights at me and honking the horn. I was pretty scared.

My kids and I rented an apartment in back of the Towne Manor Motel. It was dark in the area where I had to park.

I drove home as fast as possible hoping the car would quit following me or thinking to myself I was wrong.

I got home and parked my car. I thought I had lost the car or it was just my imagination. Before I could get out of my car, here came the same car.

It got behind my car blocking me; so I could not back out. I was pinned in. The apartment was in front of me, cars on each side of me, and the car following me in back of me. I was terrified.

Without thinking, I knew I had only one chance. I started my car and put it in reverse. That car blocking me pulled up really fast just in time for me to miss it.

I heard a male voice hollering, "You almost hit my car!" Then I recognized him. He was the young, good looking detective who had been bugging me for sex. He screamed, "Why did you do that?" You almost hit my car! Didn't you see me flashing my lights and honking my horn?'

I immediately let him know that my whole intention was to hit his car and that I do not stop my car just because someone is honking and flashing their lights. I, also, told him that he better not ever do it aain or I would report him to the police department. He never bothered me again.

Detectives Trying to Take Me to Bed

Although there were some policemen who I encountered during my years of stripping who were immune for the status of "jack-off", I must honestly say that most of them were not. There was one policeman in Canton, Ohio who used to hang around me like an old hound dog. Actually, he was not a policeman but a detective. When I speak of policemen, I use the term lightly. I usually use it to cover every law enforcement agent.

This detective did not actually ask me to go to bed with him. He just hung around, I think, to be there in case I ever got in the mood. Ha!

I dressed very provocatively back in thouse days. This particular night I had on a halter top which was pink and came just a little past my breast - just enough to cover them up. It was quite thin. My little hard nipples protruded very visibly. In those days, I was past the brink of insanity. I would do almost anything to blow someone's mind.

One night while I was on my way home from the burlesk theater this particular detective I just mentioned pulled up beside me while I was stopped at the light. As we were talking and waiting for the light to change, I pulled up my top exposing my breasts. He could not say anything. He just babbled, "Uh - Uh --- !"

It made me feel good to shock people. I think maybe that is one reason I liked my job so well.

My Opinion of Child Molesters

This is my opinion of people who sexually molest children. They are not human. They are not animals. They are nothing.

It sickens me to the core to hear someone say, "That child molester is an animal". This degrades animals. Animals are not capable of being so cruel and mean.

Our laws of society are made for humans. A person who sexually molests children is sending a message to society which says, "I am not human because I did this; therefore the laws of society do not apply to me. I am not privileged enough fo them to apply to me beause I am not human. This sort is not human or an animal. This sort is nothing and should be considered as such.

I wish I had the job of punishing child molesters. These would be the ones where there was no doubt at all what happened.

I would have a special program on television where people could tune in to see anytime they wanted. The "nothing" would be tied up someway - naked. The "nothing" would no tbe allowed food or drink. Anyone who wanted could torture the "nothing" in anyway they saw fit. The "nothing" would be tied up until death took over.

This would be too good for the "nothings" of the world. And I am sorry that it will never happen.

The Pervert Propositioning Me with My Kids

I was a stripper for approximately twenty years. I always looked down on the guys that came to my show. I always referred to them as "jack-offs". They were there for us to make money off them either through buying a ticket or buying a drink. Some were worse than others.

I am going to tell you about the worse one I ever encountered. And I do not, actually, know if he was a customer or not - I just assumed he was, at least, I do know he was a 'jack-off' in the worse way. He was a low scum of the earth.

My kids and I were walking to the hotel from the burlesk theater in Syracuse, New York. A car pulled up beside us. It was a low scum "jack-off" making a proposition to me. I could not believe what I was hearing.

I went over and hollered, cussed at him, kicked his car, and called him every bad name I knew. I screamed something in the order of, "You low-classed mother fucker! Here I am with my two kids; and you have the nerve to proposition me!" That was mild to what I said. Needless to say, he drove away.

I could not understand how someone could do that in front of children; but was mistakenly fooled back then as most people are today about certain people's actions.

Lucky for him that, at that point in my life, I was still stupid enough to not know the amount of so-called "people" who wanted kids for sex. That part did not even occur to me. If it had, my children would probably have been motherless. They would probably have put me in jail for murder if I could have got my hands on the low classed scum.

Telling the Car Driver to go Fuck his Mother

I had quite a mouth on me while I was a stripper. I used to cuss someone out wherever and whenever I felt like it. It did not make any difference to me what they thought or who heard me.

I still do have quite a mouth on me and speak my mind more openly and honestly than the normal person does; but I have learned to tone it down through the years. I learned this from the process of survival.

The first lesson in life that brought me to the realization that I had better tone my mouth down happened one day in Buffalo, New York when I was walking from the hotel to the theater through a pretty rough area of town composed of bars, pimps, Johns, and prostitutes. A car load of guys were following me. The driver kept hollering sexual things to me. Telling me to get in the car, suck his dick, and whatever other perverted things you can think about. I tried to ignore him by just walking and not looking at him. He just kept it up. I just could not stand it any longer. I hollered out, "Why don't you go fuck your mother?!"

He looked really mean at me and hollered back, "Fuck my mother? You bitch!" I could tell he was going to park pretty soon and get out of the car or meet me at the corner and hurt me.

Luck for me there were a lot of stores around . I quickly dashed into a grocery store. I was really scared.

I stayed in the store for awhile. When I left, I just prayed that those guys were gone. Lucky for me, I never saw them again.

I still have a dirty mouth. I still speak my mind. But that incident was enough of a jolt that brought me to the realization to clean up my mouth, at least, on occasions when I think it is necessary.

The Prostitutes and Their Corner

I was working in Buffalo, New York. I would have to walk from my hotel to the burlesk theater and back every day. One area I had to walk through wa pretty rough. It consisted of bars, pimps, Johns, and prostitutes.

A lot of the prostitutes would stare at me when I walked by; but I did not pay any attention because I was used to people staring all the time; since I wore a large amount of make-up for the stage. But these girls were staring at me more than normally. I just ignored it and minded my own business.

One day a prostitute came over and said to me, "So! What corner are you working on?" I said, "What?" She replied, "What corner are you working on?" All at once, I suddenly realized why they had stared at me so much. They were afraid I was going to be competition and wanted to make sure I was not going to take their corner away.

I said, "Look, you don't have to worry about me. I just work down there at the burlesk theater. I have to walk down this street to get to work". She said, "Oh!"

Aftre that, the girls would still stare; but thre was a difference. Along with the stare was also a smile and a wave.

The Cop with a Toothache

I was really crazy during the years I was dancing, especially, from the age of twenty four up to thirty. I did so many "off-the-wall"things that a normal person would never dream of doing. I think my mind was going through a transition from being stagnated by being raised in a small town - closed minded society for eighteen years and by being suppressed with the "marriage bonds of ignorance" for six years. Now it was free as a bird with nothing to suppress it. I think my being a stripper symbolized the freedom of my mind . My shedding of my clothes from my body symolized the shedding of the ignorant restraints that had been placed on my mind since birth. Now I was free. But my freedom sometimes excelled into insanity.

An example of one such incident occurred in Syrause, New York. There were two policemen who were friendly with me - nothing sexual - just nice. They would pull up in their patrol car and talk to me while my kids and I were walking from the theater to the hotel or vice versa.

One night when I was walking back to the hotel, they pulled up. I went over to talk to them. We started small talk.

The policeman on the passenger side was rubbing his jaw. I asked him what was wrong. He told me he had a really bad toothache, and it was killing him. I said, "Let me see". At the point, I reached in the patrol car, rubbed his cheek, and slapped him really hard. If looks would have killed, I would hve been dead at that point.

He hurt too much to say anything. His partner just looked at me. I laughed and said, "Well, I'll see you guys later". Then I walked away.

LaRock - Daddy, Daddy, Please Come Home!

LaRock was a projectionist at the burlesk theater where I stripped in Syracuse, New York. LaRock was his last name. I do not even know what his first name was. I am not sure if I knew it then. He was a really nice person.

Some people would say he was a nerd. I would say he was just - nice. He wore glasses and regular clothes which could be considered nerdy. He was average looking - not reaally good looking - but not really ugly either.

He was a hard worker, saved his money, bought a new truck, and worked extra hours as a janitor at the theater.

I always respected him because he never once made a pass at me. My feelings of respect would have been destroyed if he had. I can look back now and know that he was just a regular, young guy wanting to get by and save for the future.

My kids liked LaRock. He would come in the dressing room and play games with them. They thought he was really nice.

But my kids were pranksters like their mother. Whenever I would play a joke on someone, they would know exactly when to chime in or stay out of it without being told.

When I was not on the stage, I looked like a "plain-jane". Anybody that saw me walking around with my kids, would never have guessed I was a stripper who took her kids to work with her.

One day we were walking to the theater and saw LaRock standing in the front entrance. It was rush hour, so the traffic was tremendous. The cars were whizzing by. There was a stop light in front of the theater; so regular people that had to stop would sometimes look at the pornographic theater with the naked girls and shake their heads.

We walked up to LaRock; and I started hollering hysterically, "Honey! Please come home! Me and the kids need you! Quit hangin' around places like this! Please come home!"

The traffic was backed up looking at the scene I was creating. People were shaking their heads.

To make matters worse for LaRock, my kids took the hint and chimed in, "Daddy! Daddy! Please come home!" as they both tugged on each side of him. LaRock was so embarrassed; but he did not get mad. We just kept it up.

Like I said, LaRock was a nice guy. This incident proved it.

Danny and the Scabs

Danny was a desk clerk at the Hilton Hotel in Syracuse, New York. He was a short little Italian guy. He was kind of cute with grey, silver slicked back hair, neatly-pressed clothes, clean fingenails, and he always smelled good - the whole clean, neat bit.

My girlfriend, Lori, and I were always up to a good joke. We were always teasing him about his neatness. Soon we discovered he was really fanatic about it.

Lori had some sores on her arm from a fall or something like that. We were always tormenting Danny with her sores. We would walk past the desk and say ,"Heh! Danny! Look at Lori's sores!" He would tell us how gross we were. Like we didn't know? We knew he could not stand us doing that.

One day at the theater Lori was pickign the scabs off her sores. I said, "That's pretty gross." She said, "I know - good think Danny can't see it." I replied, "Well, maybe he should!" Lori answered, "Oh! You think so?" This began the ultimate horror for a fanatic freak!

After the show, we went back to the hotel. Lori had her scabs wrapped up in a kleenex. As soon as we opened the door, there was Danny sitting in the lobby relaxing on his time off. He was his usual self - just "clean as a pin".

I hollered, "Danny! Lori picked her scabs off and is gonna send them to her boyfriend in Kansas City!" He said, "Oh! NO! That's sick!" Lori said, "No it's not! He wants to see them." Danny replied, "Then he must be sick, too." Lori answered, "Here! You wanna see 'em, Danny?" She held out the kleenex they were wrapped in. Danny hollered, "No! I don't want to see them!" She kept getting closer to him holding the kleenex closer as she moved in for the kill. Danny hollered, "Get away from me with those scabs! I don't wanna see 'em!" Then she opened the kleenex and said, "Here Danny, look at my SCABS!" By now, she had them right under his nose. I think he would have knocked them out of her hand if he had not been afraid of one touching him. Instead, he just kept telling her to get away and moving his head back as far as he could while she moved the scabs closer to his nose.

Then she did something that surprised even me but was really funny. She grabbed his head; so he could not move and stuck the scabs up his nose.

He was so mad; but he stayed seated and just wiggled his nose wondering how to get the scabs out. It was beyond him to reach up there with his finger and dig them out. He would never admit to picking his nose. He alwas said he just blew it.

We teased him about the scabs for days afterwards asking him how he got them out, etc. He never would say he picked them out; and he never again was sitting in the lobby after we got off work.