As a stripper, I am forced to work with a variety of woman from all walks of life. Some of these ladies are mothers, just simply trying to make there rent. Some of the girls are addicts, hoping to god that they make enough for there next fix, so they do not get sick. Some of these woman are collage students, earning cash to get them by until there next opportunity approaches. Some are nice, some are bitches, and some just keep to themselves.
I have always been a listener. I tend to try to show how much I care by saying as little as possible. It has only began lately that I am finding myself sympathizing with a certain girl that started out as just another dancer but ended up being one of my dearest friends.
On the floor, she is shy and yet bewitching, seductive smile and exotic gestures set off against the essential elegance of her -- her classical face, that serious lode of smoky black hair. She seduces me again and again, like she seduces everyone.
She takes there words too seriously, like they are precise and to the key, but it seems like she forgets that the men that come in are usually TOO critical, and that most 'normal' woman will never have to be subjected to the harsh torment that exotic dancers frequently have to endure.
I have had enough of that look of pain in her eyes. I wish that she would see it the way that I saw it; But, unfortunately her soul seems to remain in a fragile state, and, as I try to bat off there hurtful words, and remind myself that I have already become desensitized, I realize that this current state that I am in is a curse, never to be reversed...
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