Monthly Archives: December 2013

Cover Me

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I loved our locker room.  It was raw, it was sexy, it was dirty.  Not what one would expect.  All of us were so open about our flaws, our passions, and our opinions.  Judgement free zone?  Absolutely not, but we were allowed to not care about the judgements.  We all had minor flaws, but we were cover up artists that worked together.  I miss the camaraderie  of women.  There was the cliques, the gossip, and the drama, but it was all out in the open, and we could openly roll our eyes at each others foolishness.  Although I pretty much got along with everyone, there were always the girls I was closest to.  Those girls were there for the money, improving their life, looking good and working the customers hard.  The other girls were there because they didn’t have any other choice.  Most were addicts.  They were there because they couldn’t get a job, they needed another fix, or they didn’t know how to get out of it once they were sucked in.

Few girls in fact, didn’t get sucked in.  Jade was beautiful, intelligent, and as classy as a stripper comes.  She was just there to get some extra money to pay her school bills.  Harley had just finished school, she was just working at the club until she found a job in her field.  Skylar… well, Skylar was sweet, shy and beautiful.  She had been working there for over ten years!  Surely none of us nice girls would ever stay that long.

The managers were like little con artists.  They were there for the money.  Skylar would never leave, she was told every day that she wouldn’t make it outside the club.  These men lured young girls in with the glitter and flashy lights, and then crushed their dreams of making it in the real world as best they could.  No girl could get a job if they didn’t pass a drug test.  It started out as something they would do just at the club, and then of course turn into a habit.  Harley, Skylar, and Jade are all still at the club.  They are all snorting lines, and they will most likely never leave.

Some girls do get out, but when they leave they take with them their habits.  Usually girls leave because they get fired for stealing, they are too messed up to work there anymore, or they get fired because they are not making any money, just sitting upstairs getting high.

I was different.  I was covered.  I never understood the appeal the girls had to the drugs, to the prostitution, and to the long term stripper life.  I was covered.  I understood the pull and the draw, but in the most part those things repulsed me.  I was covered from that life.  I giggled with my friends as they got high, but I was not interested in participating, I was just there for the money, I was covered.  Managers would mentally abuse women all the time to get what they wanted, but to me they were sweet, kind, respectful, and protective.  I was covered.  I got to the point where I thought I was invincible, or immune to the addictions that were constantly dangled before my eyes, but really  I wasn’t, I was just as vulnerable as any of the others, the difference was, I was covered.

Psalm 91:3&4

3Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

4He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

Click to listen to “cover me”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1pgqOvLKh4

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The Double Life

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I spun around on stage, I was facing one customer, and turned to the next – there he was.  He looked just like I remembered him, he hadn’t changed much at all.  I began the crazy crush at the age of six years old.  Luke went to my Sunday School class.  He was the youngest of three.  To the left of Luke was his older brother Calvin, and then the oldest brother Nate.  It was not a meeting I had foreseen.  I couldn’t figure out who was more shocked, them or me.  We spent over ten years growing up together, memorizing catechisms, sleeping through youth group, singing at old folk’s homes, and messing around on Sundays after the service.  Now, I was naked, and they were paying for the show.  What were these nice guys doing here?  Why did they come?  Don’t they know how inappropriate this place is?

The minute I walked through the doors at the strip club I became a confident, sexy, powerful, and naughty.  I was Jezebelle, and no one could shake that.   Everybody either wanted to be me, or to be with me, and if they didn’t then they were crazy.  I had it all.  I didn’t have a single flaw, I wasn’t afraid to show everybody everything.  I was the invincible Jezebelle.  But, underneath all the makeup, was a shy little good girl.  When I walked out the doors, I suddenly cared what people thought.  I didn’t have the disclaimer of “Jezebelle,”  I was just Joy, flawed, struggling, searching Joy.  I LOVED being Jezebelle for the freedom it gave me.  I didn’t have to answer to anyone, I wasn’t judged by anyone, I was accepted, I didn’t fall short of expectations, and everyone loved me.

What interested me, was it seemed as though Jezebelle was not the only one that found her freedom in the club.  Many men came in and were freed at the door as well.  It was like there was a coat and baggage check.  Everyone left their baggage at the door, their work troubles, their relationship woes, along with every bit of judgement.  And so did women.  Gay women as well as straight women.  Women that were usually prudes, lowered their morals after slithering past the baggage check.

When I saw Luke, Calvin, and Nate, they carried some of my baggage with them, a little bit of Joy was revealed and a little less Jezebelle was present.  I greeted them after my stage set, kissed them goodbye, and headed to a different floor.  In reality I was there for some of the same reasons as my customers.  Joy was too responsible for me.  The best thing about Jezebelle was that she carried no baggage.  She was freedom.