The last time I did a male revue show was in the spring of 2005 just before I left to teach in Japan. On Wednesday, November 7 of 2012, my agent contacted me in the morning to do a male revue with four other guys. Being fairly burned out on stripping at private parties, I figured that the male revue would bring a much needed variety to the monotony of my typical bachelorette parties, so I accepted the gig.
The revue took place at a small bar in the southern tip of Alabama. I arrived thirty minutes early and entered through the front. As soon as I walked inside the bar, I saw around forty to fifty girls. The only men in the establishment were the DJ, the owner, and the bartender. The women, upon noticing me, began to cheer. I smiled, waved, and made my way to the dressing room in the back.
The dressing room was more of a large storage area with a couch than an actual dressing room, and it was there where I met the four other male dancers. Their presence made a huge difference in my routine. I haven't met another male dancer in person since my last all-male revue in 2005, so I was pleasantly surprised to share stories with other guys in my occupation. Even though I had just met these guys, I felt that we had a lot in common due to having similar experiences.
The four male dancers differed in appearance, style, and attitude. They all came from Georgia out of the same agency and drove at least six hours just to perform for a $150 down payment. They introduced themselves to me with their stage names: Roman, Dakota, Sebastian, and Jay.
Roman, who was the shortest, had the broadest and most muscular build. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and had a quiet demeanor. He was also the rookie of the group with only two months of experience under his belt. I imagined that his personality would become more gregarious the longer he worked as a stripper. To emphasize his stage name, Roman wore a toga and a helmet for his performance.
Dakota reminded me of Boromir from Lord of the Rings. He was looked like he was around forty, considering the abundance of lines on his face including crow's feet. Rather than being clean cut, he had a scruffy appearance, accented with his shaggy hair and beard. All he needed was a sword and he would look ready to embark on a journey with some hobbits. Instead, he wore a construction worker outfit. Dakota was flirting and touching at every woman that would walk by us. He even made a pass at the bar owner's wife, angering the bar owner in the process. Dakota told me that he only stripped for a living and did no other work, which made me grateful that I had a full time job; I did not want to be like Dakota in ten years.
Sebastian was very tall, blonde, and lean. He had an extremely personable and friendly approach, giving almost anyone the impression that they could tell him anything. Like me, Sebastian had been stripping for several years and chalked up quite a bit of wisdom in the field. He wore a police shirt with leather chaps. He also had a full time office job where he made good money.
The last male dancer, Jay, had also been stripping for awhile and was a bit older than the rest. He was latino and was almost as broad and muscular as Roman. From what he told me, he seemed to be transitioning from male stripper
into an agent. He helped organize this event and got the other three
dancers this gig. Jay's outfit was simply a dress shirt and khaki pants. Jay was balding, but sprayed some fake black hair residue onto his head to give the impression that he had more hair. Unfortunately, the fake hair residence looked so out of place that I could not help but stare at Jay's actual bald spot on his head.
Jay had arranged the order of who would go on stage and perform first, starting with Sebastian, then Roman, Dakota, followed by Jay, and me going last. I noticed that the other guys were drinking alcohol to "loosen up" before the show. One of them marveled about how I was going to perform sober. I simply replied that I didn't drink, which was true. I never drink. Alcohol causes disastrous consequences, especially when stripping. A drunk male stripper's performance becomes more sloppy, the risk of accidents increases, and his self-awareness decreases, resulting in lost tips. Besides, drinking before every performance would pack on body fat before long.
Dakota outdid everyone by guzzling beer after beer. He smoked cigarette after cigarette, choking the dressing room full of smoke. The bar owner, a stocky middle aged man, watched Dakota flick a few ashes onto the floor and frowned in disapproval. Noticing the bar owner nearby, Dakota turned and smiled. "Hey man, you don't mind we bring some girls back here to hook up, do you? I promise I won't leave any stains."
The bartender was not amused and seemed irritated from Dakota's earlier advances on his wife. He muttered a sarcastic remark and left the room. Soon after, the DJ entered and asked all of us which songs we preferred. A pregnant brunette brunette girl accompanied him. Dakota introduced himself to her and began to rub her round belly and the DJ looked at him in shock. She introduced herself and the DJ, emphasizing to Dakota that the DJ was her boyfriend. Dakota quickly withdrew his hand. We all gave the DJ our preferred songs. I told the DJ that he could play anything he wanted.
After the DJ left, Dakota turned to us, took a swig of his beer and laughed. "Oh shit, man!" he said. "I didn't know that was the DJ's girlfriend, and here I was all feeling her up in front of him."
"That's why I don't feel up every girl," I said.
Dakota shrugged. "It's all good, man."
Sebastian shook his head. "Not if the boyfriend wants to kill you, it's not."
Dakota continued drinking, dropping his wrench from his tool pouch multiple times and not noticing due to his inebriated condition. The metal wrench hit the concrete floor with a loud 'clang,' and I imagined that it would break some poor girl's foot before the night was over. The more Dakota drank, the more outlandish his behavior became.
"You gotta be careful with threesomes with your girlfriend," Dakota began on one of tales. "Don't cum in the other girl. Pull out and cum in your girlfriend and tell her that she's the only one who can make you cum. Girls like that shit!"
I shook my head and chuckled. Apparently Dakota's outer appearance had aged, but his mind had not progressed much since he was twenty.
The owner and his wife came in and I talked with them awhile. The owner and I talked about earning revenue and running a business. He said, "Dion, was it? I like you. Next time I have a male revue, I'm calling you. You're local." He gestured towards Dakota. "I definitely don't want to hire this dick cheese again."
Outside, I heard the girls cheer and scream as the DJ announced that the male dancers were coming up. Roman adjusted his toga, Sebastian donned on his police uniform, and Jay rehearsed the order one final time with us. Then, the show began... For the other guys.
I did not see the performance, because I was scheduled to go last and had to wait in the dressing room the entire time. However, the bar owner's wife came in and talked to me for awhile. She told me that she and her friends were eager to see me because they really liked how I looked. She then hugged me, kissed me on the cheek, and told me that she wanted me to return to strip again even though I had yet to perform. She reeked of perfume and sweet, alcoholic drinks.
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| Sebastian taking money from cleavage. |
Because she was so nice to me, I decided to ask her a favor. "Can you take some pictures of the show for me?" I said, handing her my Nikon camera.
She looked ecstatic. "Of course!" she said. She took the camera and began snapping random photos of us in the dressing room, then and she went out into the crowd. She staggered about drunk as she took the pictures, and I worried whether she would drop and break my expensive camera.
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| My initial appearance. |
An hour passed before it was my turn. When I finally emerged out into the crowd, I searched out the girls with the money. Unlike my private parties where the girls usually paid me a set amount of money and tips regardless of what I do, I had to actually interact with each girl to earn my tips here. Some girls in the audience had money while others did not. The girls that carried a lot of money congregated near the front, sitting in a cluster. The other male dancers referred to this area as "hot seats" where the money was at. The point of the male revue was interact as much as possible in the areas with the hot seats in order to earn as much money as possible. The hot seats usually consist of older, less attractive women, but not always, and they continuously tip.
Throughout the performance, I noticed some interesting aspects from the other dancers. Dakota was an extremely good dancer, and he wore garters on his arms to collect money. Roman wore sandals to avoid walking barefoot on the floor. Sebastian tucked the excess money into his boots when his thong could not hold any more; he further elaborated that money falls out of thongs after awhile, but not the boots. Sebastian mentioned to me that he used humor and conversation with women instead of intimate contact to earn money. I saw that Dakota used his dancing skills and humor. Roman simply danced. I did not see how Jay performed.
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| Bending a girl over a table. |
After the performance, we all went back to the dressing room. The bar began to let men inside. Unfortunately for them, most of the women had already left. Roman and Jay got dressed first, grabbed their belongings. They shook my hand and left. Sebastian and I remained behind, trading stories about wild and strange parties.
Dakota interrupted us because he had difficulty finding his jeans. They were not in the dressing room. He stalked about agitated and drunk. He left the dressing room and disappeared, swearing and kicking at his suitcase on the floor. Several minutes later, he stormed back into the dressing room with his jeans, but complained that his money was missing from the pockets. Apparently when he had stripped from earlier, he threw his jeans onto the floor in front of a group of girls instead of onstage behind the DJ. One of the girls grabbed his jeans, rifled through the pockets, took the money, and threw the jeans outside the bar. Vowing revenge, Dakota began his drunken investigation of discovering who the culprit was. Several employees told him that it was a regular named Megan who took Dakota's jeans. They told him she went to another bar down the street.
"I'm going to catch that fuckin' bitch," Dakota yelled at me as I was heading toward the bathroom, causing several girls walking by to turn and look at him in alarm. "And when I do, I'm gonna make her pay me back even more money, and then I'm gonna slap the shit out of her till you can't recognize her face!"
The group of girls looked horrified and scampered away in haste. I tried to reason with Dakota and suggested that he call the police and file a theft report. "Have the police respond here," I told him. "You have several witnesses here who know her and saw her take your jeans, and multiple cameras that possibly caught her in the act. It'd be easy for them to figure it out."
"No, I'm going to confront that bitch myself and beat the shit out of her. That bitch took 150 dollars from me. Now I don't even have gas money to get home!"
"Don't do it," I warned. "Jail will cost you more in the meantime."
"I don't care if I get 99 years, I'm going to make that bitch pay," Dakota said. "
No one steals from me! Besides, when I get done slapping her, she won't even dare talk about it."
Dakota grabbed his things and walked out of the bar. Sebastian, who was listening nearby, came up to me worried. "Is he going to be all right?"
"Probably not," I said. "He seems hell bent on going to jail tonight. He's probably going to hit that girl and get his ass beat by her friends."
"Maybe I should try and talk to him..." Sebastian began.
"He won't listen," I said. "I tried to reason with him. He seems eager to beat that girl up. Watch it not be the person who took his money too."
Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, man. We're not his babysitters."
As we stared towards the bar door where Dakota left, three girls from the show approached to go towards the bar. I recognized them since I danced with them earlier and two of them had nice, fake breasts. Sebastian intercepted them. At first, they seemed eager to talk with him, but after awhile, they lost interest and went to the bar.
"You see that?" Sebastian said, laughing. "During the show they were all over me, but once the show is over, I'm a normal guy again. It happens all the time!"
He was right too. As we walked towards the front door to leave, the remaining girls in the bar who grabbed, fondled, and danced with us earlier just ignored us on our way out. When we debuted in our costumes and our thongs, they waved money at us and vied for our attention. Now that we had our street clothes on, we became ordinary men again.
