Many, many, MANY moons ago I was working as a shooter girl (then a waitress and bartender) in a nightclub. Ok, that’s a lie. It was a gentlemen’s club, a strip club. I don’t know why I didn’t just say that from the hop. Anyways. There I was, young and naive. I’m a 20 year old, slinging test-tube shots all night – getting paid to party. I was a great sales person – always had top sales every night. If a group of guys bought a round of shots, one for me was almost always purchased as well. Plus I’d get tipped on top of my sales. Literally – being paid to party; and often making more money than some of the strippers dancers.
I love to talk to people. Hear their stories and learn about them. I’m naturally a good listener and let’s call a spade a spade – if you were going to give me $20 for a simple shot – I was more than happy to listen to you and chat for a while.
Slowly, I started to build a list of regulars. The construction boys that came in every Monday night, the older Asian man who would come in and only drink Perrier (and always bring the staff food from his restaurant at the end of the night), the guys who would sit at the bar – really only coming in for the company of the bartenders and wait staff – not the dancers.
My knack of listening and engaging with these customers would not only give me enough stories to write a book (it’s coming – I promise!), but I also got a sense into who they were and what drove them.
I cannot tell you how many times either I myself, or another waitress, was asked to give a lap dance and offered the $20 a dancer would make. Seriously, I cannot tell you. I don’t think I can count that high. The persistent customers would even go higher – $40, $100, etc. No – I am not some drop-dead supermodel. Not even close. So at first, I was so confused as to why these guys were continuously trying to get me or other waitresses into the VIP booths. Then, one day as I was sitting in the club, watching the beautiful dancer on stage and watching all the customers in the club – it hit me.
The Forbidden Fruit Syndrome
The Forbidden Fruit Syndrome. It goes back to Adam and Eve. You always want what you can’t have. As soon as something is off-limits – you must have it. Have you ever seen those signs, warning you DO NOT PUSH THE RED BUTTON…yet, after reading that – it’s all you want to do?
The Forbidden Fruit Syndrome
These customers were sitting there, enjoying their cocktails of choice, as the dancers took to the stage one by one, and by the end of the third song – that was all she wrote. The clothes had come off. But us waitresses and shooter girls – we were always fully clothed. Well…as “fully clothed” as one can be in a strip club, let’s be honest here. Think…short shorts and low-cut tank tops.
So these guys, who were always hitting on myself – and the other wait staff – were drawn to the chase. The game. They wanted to work for what they couldn’t have. And the more we said no, the more they wanted it. Like I said, an initial $20 offer would almost always increase in increments throughout the night.
Over the past year (which was my first time being single in my entire adult life) while on the ‘dating scene’ – I have noticed The Forbidden Fruit Syndrome again. The games we play, willingly or not, are ongoing and tiresome. At some point, you would hope that everyone will just get tired of the chase, right?