100 Stories From An Old Stripper - BOOK TRAILER!

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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.