Dancer Vs. Stripper

I draw a distinction between terms dancers and strippers when I write. I use the term dancer as a general term. It’s a profession. It’s what a person does to pay the bills. Stripper is negative term, it represents the bad aspects of the job. It’s similar to comparing programmers and hackers. Programmers are professionals that generate quality code, follow ethics, and are the people you want writing the software that your bank uses. Hackers just done enough to get the job done, have no ethics, and spend their spare time stealing identities, and writing viruses. Granted these are stereotypes and represents a bit of simplification. Like many jobs, including my own, there are varying degrees of quality. I appreciate everybody has off days, were not always on our best behavior but over time. To me there is a discernable difference between a dancer and a stripper.

I’m friends with a lot of dancers, so I see a little different side of the business than the typical customer. Last Friday I was sitting at a table with a dancer early in the evening. She hadn’t had dinner yet, she asked if it was ok if she ate dinner while we talked. No problem, Even though she was going to pay for it, I was more than happy to buy it for her. A meal at D2 really isn’t that much more a single drink. While we were talking, another stripper sat down with us. Per usual, they began talking to each other about things going on at the club. You can really tell how empathic a person is in situations like this. When you are talking to somebody you work with it’s really easy to lose somebody that doesn’t work there. Empathetic people will keep tabs on the conversation and when the conversation starts to get to shop specific they’ll stop the conversation a little and either fill in necessary details you need to keep up, or just simply stop the conversation. Un-empathetic people will just plow on the conversation without either realizing or caring that the conversation has become completely vague to you. The dancer kept the conversation from getting to obscure so I didn’t get lost.

Right after the stripper sat down the waitress brought her something from kitchen. I just assumed that she ordered and paid for it before she sat down. Almost immediately after meal arrived she got called to stage. Snarling “Fuckin’ DJ does that on purpose” she got up and headed off for her set. The waitress brought by the dancer’s dinner just as the stripper returned from her set. With even acknowledging my presence the stripper quickly orders a drink before the waitress leaves. Both girls noticed a couple of their regular customers had come in. Like most sales jobs, a dancer’s time isn’t her own. When customers show up you have to deal with it. Both girls tore into dinner with a Homer Simpsonesque fury. Mumbling between grinding molars the stripper thanked me for dinner. I wasn’t aware I was buying her dinner. Hmm. After primping herself a little the stripper head after her regular before he was poached by another stripper. The waitress stopped by to pickup the wreckage that was meal barely seconds ago. I ordered another drink and asked the dancer if she wanted one. When she returned with the drinks, I waited expectantly for the drinks plus the dinner charge, but pleasantly show only asked for the drinks. Maybe I was mistaken.

The dancer heads over to greet her regular, the stripper stops the waitress and orders another drink. To be fair I’ll always buy her drinks when the stripper sits with me, however, I have a hard time remembering the last time she asked. The dancer returns, her regular is waiting for somebody else and she’ll check back with later. I head off the video crack game with the dancer, the stripper heads to the dressing room.

I can spend an enormous time playing video games. I live at the nickel arcade in high school. That’s one thing always disappointed about that 70’s show. The completely missed how much high school life revolved around foos ball and asteroids. I didn’t date much in high school. After hour or so at the video crack machine the waitress stops by. Slightly sheepishly she asks if I was going to buy the stripper’s dinner. You could tell that she was a little uncomfortable asking. Sure. There are things that happen you know are coming, yet when it arrives it still pisses you off. She ordered the meal before she sat down with me. The stripper has irritated me enough that I don’t buy dances from her anymore. She is still trying to get money out of me in an indirect manner.

Treating your customers like enemies is an easy trap to fall into. It happens to me at my job. Some idiot customer needs something, and I’m going to either do the absolute minimum required or somehow make his life difficult process. It’s not a good long term plan. I’ve managed to pull my head out before I do anything too stupid or vindictive. Dancers treat their customers like customers. Strippers treat their customer like targets.