Let’s Talk Bachelor Parties Shenanigans

I was terrified when I went to my first bachelor party!

I think I had been dancing for maybe three months, when I went on my first party, with the head girl at the club, whom we called ‘Mama’. She was like our unofficial housemom. I’m grateful that they sent me with her, as she was great at getting the guys to tip, but she didn’t put up with any bullshit from the guys.

The bachelor party was at a country bar, a low slung porch, a long ass bar and a big dance floor. The parking lot was full of trucks, and the bar was full of horny, drunk white guys. I was only three months off of the farm.

Mama was the best girl to do my first show with, but she was also a drinker. She quickly hooked me up with a vodka cranberry. At the time, I was not a drinker. My ex-husband was very anti-drugs and drinking, and forbid me to partake (for more about the gem of my first marriage, read this post).

I don’t remember much more about that first party. I’m not sure how many drinks I had, but I really don’t think she got more than two in me- I couldn’t really stomach vodka back then and those vodka cranberries were a struggle. It wasn’t a bad party, I think we made decent money, it was just so long ago that the details are fuzzy.

Overall, I enjoyed doing parties. My club had a book that had pictures and “bios” of the girls that were available. Back in the day, they hired a professional photographer to come in and take themed pics of the girls; I had a “cowgirl” theme, as I was totally rocking the “farm-girl-next-door” thing. Legit, I had a jean skirt as a staple of my dancer wardrobe, I kid you not. In fact, my beginner outfits were atrocious. However, I looked sexy as hell in ass-less chaps πŸ˜‰

Our managers were pretty good at feeling out the guys who were trying to book girls for bachelor parties; they tried to suss out the type of jobs the party members held, if they were really ballin’; parties hosted by cops and firemen were always lucrative. I did a couple that were in super wealthy neighborhoods, in swanky semi-mansions, but even that situation didn’t necessarily mean big bucks.The bachelor parties where the groom to be was super nervous about his bitchy fiance finding out were annoying; he would get super drunk and emotional and his buddies would have to spend too much time trying to calm him down, and not tipping.

I did a party in a fucking barn once, in the middle of nowhere, around mid-March. They had a fucking space heater trying to keep us warm. For real. The only consolation was that the party was with a girl who had recently come to our club since hers had closed down suddenly (that pesky IRS, finally shutting down an establishment which hadn’t paid taxes in many years!) and she had the nicest titties to play with (sadly, this same girl became a coke-then-molly addict and lost tons of weight and her titties shriveled up to nothing). Our teeth chattered through that one but I believe we walked away with our own fat stacks. She was a shrieker tho, which was annoying- you know those girls that made the loudest, fakest sex noises the minute you start to touch them?

I got my period at a party once. WHILE DOING THE GIRL ON GIRL SHOW. I kid you not. Luckily, the dancer I was with (Mama!) was super cool about it, and just slid up from between my legs and whispered the news in my ear. The party was in a house where the fiances were already living together, so we made up some sexy excuse about needing a break, and ran to the bathroom- wouldn’t you figure that the fiance had NO feminine products in the damn bathroom? I sacked that fucking bathroom looking for a tampon, and there was NOTHING. Plenty of her damn makeup and hair products all over the place but not one fucking tampon. We had to end the show then, and scurried out of there.

Cameras were always an issue. Our bouncer made it REALLY CLEAR up front that there were no pictures or recording to be had, or the party would end and they would lose out on the money they had paid. But there was usually at least one jackass who would pull out his phone and try to get one off before our bouncer made it to him. When doing girl on girl shows, you always had to keep one eye up to watch the guys, especially when the bouncer was busy checking out some other guy’s phone. Did I do parties where there were cameras hidden in bookshelves or nooks? Probably. Perhaps I should run for office to see how many emerge when I announce my candidacy!

The best parties were the ones at the casino, at the top of the swanky hotel. We had to go in looking like ordinary civilians- the casinos were not fond of stripper parties held in their hotel rooms. Things tended to get really messy. I had many awesome parties up there, in the gorgeous suites, playing in bubble baths and smoking weed on the balconies. The girl on girl shows were always done in the huge bathtub because why wouldn’t you, right?

For doing parties, each girl was guaranteed $300. Tips were split evenly between the girls, and then each girl gave the bouncer 10%. A party was considered successful if each girl made $500+ in tips. Obviously, you could keep all the tips if you did the party by yourself, but then you lost out on the tips made from adding on a girl on girl show at the end. We always waited until the end of the normal shenanigans to give our show price; we set the price for what we thought that particular crowd would pay. For lame groups, we would start the price at $200. If they were being generous, we would set the price at $500. If they agreed, they would give that money to our bouncer, and then we would still push for tips during the show.

I hated handling the beer soaked nasty bills but hey, it’s part of the business, right? Cash is cash, even if it’s beer soaked πŸ˜‰

AK

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