When shall we three meet again/In thunder, lightning, or in rain? - William Shakespeare, Macbeth (I,i)
I had a rare “girls’ night out” this week; Kelly Michaels’ travels brought her near enough to my place to justify diverting here, so I welcomed her as a guest Sunday night and then she and I drove to Dallas to meet up with Kelly James, who had been there on tour for several days. I originally figured we’d just go to dinner and talk a lot, then I’d spend the night there and drive home the next day; Kelly M, however, had different ideas and insisted I bring something fancy to wear so we could go out to a strip club in Dallas she had been meaning to visit for some time. She didn’t have to ask me twice; it’s been ages since I visited a strip club and since there was a dress I mentioned once before (“Cynthia…convinced me to buy a “liquid silver” dress which I still haven’t ever managed to find an occasion to wear!”) I knew this was my opportunity.
I never sleep all that well when I know I have a lot to do, but I don’t really need as much sleep now as I did when I was younger so six hours is usually enough. I woke up early, posted my column and scheduled Tuesday’s to post automatically, answered my correspondence, performed my chores and then woke Kelly up before heading for the shower. We managed to get out pretty early and arrived in Dallas during rush hour, but fortunately we were going against traffic so it wasn’t too bad. We met Kelly J. and relaxed in the hotel for a little while before heading over to the Galleria, where Kelly M. got her hair done and we enjoyed a lovely dinner which she insisted on paying for (I considered arguing the point but I know a determined look when I see one). We left just as the mall was closing and returned to the hotel to get dolled up, finally heading out in search of Kelly’s club. After one false start (a very nice place which clearly catered to older businessmen, definitely a clubby sort of atmosphere) we got a tip-off which led us to our real destination, a place Kelly had heard about a year before and had never been able to locate specifically.
And that’s when the fun began in earnest. I always volunteer to be the “designated driver” because I’m not really much of a drinker to start with, and taking that responsibility lets me win cool points for something I probably would’ve done anyway because it seems almost nobody can make a Brandy Alexander these days (when I ordered one in Frank’s presence years ago, he snorted “That’s not a drink, it’s a dessert!”) So I remember everything that happened, which is probably more than the Kellies can say because they imbibed freely for hours. Kelly M. is an extremely generous tipper, so it didn’t take long for the dancers to recognize our side of the stage as the place to be (especially on an otherwise-quiet Monday night). This seems to have intimidated a few of the poorer male clients; one guy came up to the stage, saw how much money Kelly was throwing and returned to his seat with an audible “fuck this!” So after that, we were careful to leave off when a guy approached the stage so as not to cheat the girls out of opportunities to sell lap-dances. All three of us are former strippers, after all, so we know how it is.
The club management was, I think, pleased that we were there; not only were we tipping heavily, we were also (especially me) giving the patrons a little something extra to look at, especially when the girls got affectionate with us from the stage. So it probably isn’t surprising that they didn’t say anything about Kelly M. snapping numerous pictures of us (but not the dancers or customers) with her camera phone. I was pretty “high on life”, and after the strippers were done for the night I started dancing around in my seat; when the DJ played “Magic Man” by Heart I could no longer restrain myself and got up to dance. The Kellies tried to convince me to get up on stage so they could throw money at me, but I wasn’t willing to risk that without knowing Texas laws on the subject. Besides, the few customers still in the place (it was after 2 AM by that point) seemed to be enjoying my performance just fine; one guy kept moving his chair to see me better, then finally just got up to watch openly. When we went out the men who yet remained outside the front door tried to make time with us, and Kelly M. teased one guy by throwing a few one-dollar bills at him (he laughed but didn’t pick them up, though the cab driver beside him did).
On the way back to the hotel, we found a classic rock station and Kelly M. and I insisted on singing along on “Stairway To Heaven” while Kelly J. attempted to navigate us back to the hotel while drunk. Somehow we managed it, got undressed for bed while clowning around some more and had a discussion about what the most extreme sexual perversion might be (Kelly J. kept disqualifying my suggestions on the grounds that they were “just disgusting”). We managed to settle down and get to sleep by just after 4 AM, but not before Kelly M. emailed a few of the pictures to my husband (who was on a different part of the planet at the time and therefore wide awake and at work). I didn’t get much sleep; my days of being able to lie in bed past 8:30 AM are long gone, but I let the Kellies alone until 10:30 and then roused them sufficiently to drag them to breakfast. I had to get going soon after that in order to make it home by dark, but I arrived safely (though exhausted) and actually got a little work in that night.
What fun we had! It really was like a little taste of the old days for me, and my husband was really excited for me as well because he thinks I work too hard and he was very pleased to see me relax and just have fun for a change without trying to accomplish anything. It was also great to talk shop with a couple of my sisters; one of the drawbacks of our profession (especially under a criminalization regime) is that it tends to be very isolating, and being able to converse freely with other whores is enormously liberating. I don’t think I’ll be able to do this sort of thing often, but I certainly hope it isn’t years before it happens again; perhaps next time I’ll figure out an excuse to get down to south Texas to meet up with Brandy and Emily.
One Year Ago Today
“Celebrities” discusses clients who are public figures. Professional ethics forbid name-dropping, but I think you’ll enjoy the column anyway.