Sleeping in My Car....

When I was dancing as a stripper on the road, I would have to cut corners in many ways to make sure that my kid's boarding schools received their payments on time. This involved, quite regularly, doing without food or shelter. Luckily, I had my car to sleep in when I could not pay for a room.

I would go to a roadside park and sleep in my car. I did not realize how dangerous this was. Many times the weather would be cold, freezing, and snowy. Sometimes when I was in a big city like Chicago, I would go to a residential area and parallel park on the street. In the cold winters of Chicago, nobody noticed someone sleeping in their car, especially, with the windows fogged up from the cold. I would get in the back seat and cover-up with my rugs that I used in my stage shows. I am surprised I did not freeze to death.

One time in Scranton, Pennsylvania, I was sleeping in my car. I would take my rugs with me after work and drive to a roadside park to sleep. It was so cold. The husband of one of the strippers asked me one night if I was sleeping in my car. I asked him - why did he think that. He told me that he sees me carrying my rugs out every night; and I do not have a room at the motel. I admitted that I was because I needed the money for my kids. He and his wife offered to let me stay in their room for no money. I really did appreciate it.

I really did think they were nice to do this for me. This kind incident helped to introduce me to the well-known fact that you do not get something for nothing; and if someone does you a kind favor, usually, they have a plan in their head to use you someway. The plan is usually more devistating than the way you were before they did the favor.

After I had stayed there a couple of nights, the wife told me in the dressing room that they liked to spice up their sex life with a threesome every so often. She said their sex life gets dull sometimes; and when they have a threesome, it revives it. She asked me if I would do it. Of course, I said, "No".

I was not that cold. Needless to say, the cold car looked pretty good. I went back to it willingly despite their pleas for me to stay.

Getting Busted - At the Mercy of the Vice Squad

The first time I ever had trouble with the vice-squad in Kansas City, Missouri made me realize that just because you are not breaking the law does not mean you cannot get arrested. Us strippers would do our jobs within the boundaries of the law; but when the vice-squad decided to bust us, they would find some stupid reason for it.

I was really green back then. The first time this happened I was hollering in the club about how they should not be able to arrest us because we are not breaking the law. My boss, Doris at the Pink Pussy Cat, told Kansas City Kitty, a stripper who showed me the ropes of stripping, to explain it to me. Doris kept going on about how dumb I was. I did not understand her frustration then; but I do now.

If they wanted to bust us, they would make anything up. They would say we had too much butt cheeks showing or a pubic hair or did not have our nipples covered completely with the pastie.

One time in Cleveland, Ohio they arrested the whole show. The boss knew the police were there; so he told the girls to not take anything off. They arrested them anyway. The police said that even though the girls did not take a stitch of clothes ff they did make sexual, suggestive movements.

One time in New York City, New York they busted the show because the girls were showing pubic hair. One girl was shaven. She said, "You can't bust me! I don't have any hair down there. I am shaven!" To no avail and wasted words, they did anyway.

We were at the mercy of the vice-squad. One time in Chicago, Illinois, I got busted. They were driving the ticket man and me to jail. The policeman looked back and said, "Well, you know we're just doing our job". I wanted to say, "Yeh! I know! So are we". But I knew better than to smart off or they would find something else to charge me with.

Get Opal's hit documentary short film THE 60 YEAR OLD STRIPPER on DVD at:

https://www.createspace.com/266988


Own Opal's new book STRIPPER: A Mother's Story at:

http://thoughtsofastripper.webs.com

Be a part of THE OLD STRIPPER:

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.