I wrote my Master’s thesis in a strip club DJ booth. I’d like to say it wasn’t easy, but it was. Toss around some Marxist jargon, find a way to relate it to the teenager who is sharing your DJ booth due to somewhat ironic liquor laws, and bam...you have an entire dissertation on how underage dancers are analogous to a petit bourgeois when framed through the lens of a micro-economic capitalist paradigm. Yeah, I thought it was bullshit too. Still, I’m not the only person out there who cites sources and spellchecks fabrications between private dances. However fabled the story about graduating and making a living may be, the rumor about stripping, college and the ways certain young women engage in one to pay for the other, is not entirely false. If you have ever considered getting naked for college credit, first take into consideration these tips.
It may seem like a good idea to keep one’s stripping career miles away from school, but don’t forget that professors also drive a ways out of town before patronizing the naked. They want to be as anonymous as their students, just for different reasons. If you think its awkward running into a teacher in a crowded college bar, try running into him in the middle of nowhere (while naked). Virtually isolated at some snatch ranch, with a name like The Chicken Coop, is no way to go through college, and it is definitely not the state of mind you want to be in, when discovering the hard way, exactly why your professor drives fifty miles to get his "special" lap dances.
Imagine the high-profile confines of downtown as your safe harbor. At first, it may seem ridiculous to consider risking your anonymity mere blocks from where you buy your scantrons and Cliff’s Notes, but you’re forgetting that a high-profile environment breeds blackout shit-facery (as opposed to the "I know that girl from class, let me see how far into her Facebook profile I can get before she notices I’ve liked ninety pictures from 2006," stalker variety). Most dudes hitting up your local strip clubs, are too focused on acting like they’re starring in a Hangover remake, to even notice the faces of the strippers. Whereas, intimate cunt-oisseurs are more likely to hit up out-of-the-way joints—places where they can actually talk over the music and get to know their dancers/students/classmates. Further, any guy from class you see hanging at the titty bar is, well, also in a titty bar. What’s more embarrassing, avoiding college debt by working in a nudie farm or spending student loans on strippers? I’ve been on both sides of this fence and one side’s grass is literally brown, once you’re known as the guy who spends all his Sallie Mae loan money on friction dances.
If you’re a hot girl who attends college, every guy in your class has already thought about you at least once while jerking off. Now, if you had a dollar for every time it happened, wouldn’t that be spiffy? Well, you can. Remember, you’re only going to be able to hide the fact that you’re a stripper for only so long, so own it. The rest of your class has already smelled the morningafter Stoli on your Hello Kitty tank top and you’re not fooling anyone with the hangover sunglasses on a foggy September morning. You’re actually better off being openly acknowledged as (and accepting the role of) "the stripper girl" at your school.
First of all, you’re gonna ace the Women’s Studies courses. There is no quicker way to an easy "A" than by route of martyring one’s personal circumstances for purposes of sympathetic evaluation on behalf of a liberal instructor. By placing the phrase "well, as an exotic dancer..." in front of everything you say, you are protecting yourself from an array of objective criteria, most importantly, the notion that you should be judged on test scores alone. As soon as you come clean to your fellow women, they will either line up in your defense (phrases like "slutpositive" may reduce your career to a catchphrase, but trust me, these ladies are your best allies) or you will be openly judged in front of your peers— allowing you for a tuition refund based on "facilitated sexual harassment on behalf of staff and administrators." Again, I’ve been on both sides of this fence (with pants on).
Second, by choosing to strip your way through school, you are basically brokering what every other hot girl has to put out for: frat guy money. University life may provide women with the rare opportunity to gold-dig from men who aren’t ten years older, but once you become Quarterback Joe’s girlfriend, say goodbye to freedom (and hello to venereal disease). On the flipside, if you’re the girl who Joe spends all his money on after his weekly fight with the girlfriend, you get to reap the benefits of his father’s trust fund, without being date raped or having to wear a letterman’s jacket. College may be a breeding ground for successful gold diggers, but if you try, you can actually pawn off your pole-earnings as a workaround from having to engage in the "hey, you play football, can I have a thousand dollars?" game that your peers play every weekend, in order to get free tequila. You will probably spend less time naked, in pursuit of cash, during the duration of your higher education than your classmates—if you choose to pay for your textbooks with money made from VIP dances.
Once you are lucky enough to land a shift at a quality strip club, your next goal is to establish residency without pissing off the house girls. Pretending you’re "only stripping to get through college" is a bad idea for two reasons. First of all, it’s a lie. We will get to that part later, in your mid-thirties, while you are busy working a day shift at the one place that used to be the other club back in the day. Second, and more importantly, not every intelligent woman hates herself enough to spend fifty grand on a piece of paper. You will meet these women in the dressing room and they may not want to be on the receiving end of a condescending bitch’s gripes about having to get naked for her future in dental assistance. Translation; career strippers don’t want their customers being snatched up by some sorority bitch, so don’t pretend you’re simply taking a vacation in a place where most of the residents are stuck living. Act like you’re never going to quit stripping or that your education is simply something to fall back on if you ever lose a limb and have too many kids.
It is very, very important for aspiring strippers to learn the operational differences between strip joints—before diving in to a game of peel-for-tuition. If you’re a science major, you have no place in an advanced English course, right? Figure out what you’re willing to do for your degree, starting from "maybe for a dollar" and ranging to "not even if Ryan Gosling paid me in smiles." Then, select a club that meets your needs. There are clubs like Spyce, which only require their girls to get topless (thus giving the more reserved girl-next-door types a place to strip), and then there are heathen’s heavens like Casa Diablo (where eating out your dorm-mate is not only acceptable, but encouraged). A wide array of middle ground exists, from the alternative-friendly establishments like Devils Point to the Vegas-standard fare of Club Rouge. However, if you don’t pick wisely, you will end up dancing to Now That’s What I Call Music: Volume 3 in an abandoned, black-lit trailer that still allows customers to smoke as long as "Meth Rob" (not "Owner Rob") is working.
If the above tips don’t help you out, send me a message and we will discuss things further—in private, over dinner. Ramen even.