The days of being a stripper were days of excitement. I enjoyed those years and am glad that I became a stripper. That is one aspect of my life that I do not regret.
I can think of stories back in those days. Most are funny - some are not - but most are.
People in that line of work are different. they look at life alot different than most, common everyday people do. I am glad that I had the opportunity to cross over that line. I am glad I had the opportunity to show that type of life to my children.
I was stripping in Evansville, Indiana. I rented an apartment upstairs above the club. This is one week I had my kids with me. It was a time when they were on a holiday - like Christmas. It was getting close to the time when the kids would have to go back to their boarding schools. John was dressed in his military school uniform. He did not want to go back. I went upstairs. He was sitting on the chair with his hat lopsided looking all sad. He looked so cute. I said, "You look like a drunken sailor!"
While my kids were with me in Evansville, they stayed upstairs while I did my shows downstairs. This was ideal for me. I wish all the spots I worked had been like this.
The hostess at the club told me that she could not understand why they were so quiet. She said if she left her kids up there by themselves, there would be no way they would behave. She said you would be able to hear them romping around like crazy.
I did not tell her. But I believe that kids who do not mind are a result of bad parenting.
But I was not like a lot of parents. I placed my kids above everybody and everything. I still do.
I was twenty four years old and dating a guy who was in his early sixties. I was living in Kansas City, Missouri and stripping at the Pink Pussy Cat. He was some big businessman. I do not remember where. It was downtown somewhere. I cannot even remember his name. I thought he was sexy with his grey hair. He told me he wanted to rent me an apartment; so I let him. But I did not get a fancy one. I got one that I though I would be able to afford if and when we broke up.
He was a sugar-daddy; but I liked him. I could have got more out of him than the rent if I had been smart enough; but back then, I was not smart, at all.
I do not even remember how it ended. I do remember his coming in the Pink Pussy Cat and hollering while I was on the stage at me about how I liked some younger man.
I always thought I would remember him - but I don't.
