Wine

Diary of a Stripper

I was new to the country and I needed a job. It was early June, so there was lots of work as a stripper. I found a place that was looking for someone. I was shy at first, being the youngest there and having the least experience. I was also a bit embarrassed because I didn’t speak the language very well. But I quickly realized that most strippers seem to manage with only rudimentary phrases and no one minds their thick accents. Thankfully, one of the older men took me under his wing and taught me all there is to know about stripping. “Piano, piano,” he said as he showed me how to slowly and delicately remove everything. I watched him carefully as his fingers moved nimbly and gracefully. I learned by example and in no time at all I was stripping as well as anyone. Continue reading “Diary of a Stripper”