The boss is not your friend

I've been exclusively doing strip club work over the past few months. I miss doing parties and shows, but since I've moved I haven't really felt comfortable enough to branch out. When I did parties and private shows the longest I had to be charming was 3 hours, but it usually clocked in around an hour. Working at clubs means spending hours (between 5 and 12) in a state of outward hyper sexuality and sweetness. I'm not a particularly friendly person, and needing to act like it for that long is certainly challenging. Let me clarify, it's not so much unfriendliness as a suspicion of insincerity.

As I've relied on my club work more steadily I've become ingrained in the environment, developing relationships with the other dancers, customers and inevitably the management. It was important for me to learn early on to be an unrepentant kiss ass 90% of the time to make up for the other 10% of flying off the handle, and sewing seeds of discontent. My current club harbors some serious pretensions about being dancer friendly, which in some ways only furthers to silence our collective concerns.

The U.S. strip club model is very deliberately hard to organize in. Most people assume that I'm an independent contractor, however I certainly have never met a dancer who received a 1099. Every club that I have worked at requires the dancers to pay out a house fee at the end of the night, it's typically relative to the hours worked, lap dances sold and any fines you may have accrued during your shift. There is a growing movement of dancers fighting for their stolen money but this can open you up to the risk of being blacklisted from that club, franchise, or any other club that finds out.

I was chatting with another dancer about our manager with who we both have a decent relationship. I've actually known him since elementary school, which complicates our relationship further. Dandelion and I were discussing his often erratic behavior and I reminded her,
"The boss is never your friend, the ability to hire and fire sets up apart."
He's not a bad guy, and I'm rather fond of him but I'll never trust a manger.
About 30 minutes later we both got a text message from him telling us he'd been fired and thanking us for all our work. Dandelion asked if I was still going to work on Friday night, and I answered in the affirmative. It begs some questions about solidarity between dancers and their immediate management. I'm fairly certain I make more money than him, which actually gives me more security at the club, they're less likely to fire me (who makes them lots of money) than the manager who doesn't. Ultimately if I stay at the club is dependent on how the new manager changes the vibe, I've worked at this club less for the earning potential than the environment. I get along with everyone, they don't ask me to do anything I'm uncomfortable with and they strictly enforce no turning tricks on club property.

When I first started dancing I had plans to start a bachelor party and private show worker collective. Maybe it's that I can't see myself doing this in another five years, but I don't have the passion for it. Last Saturday all the girls in the dressing room seemed to be looking to me for some leadership or direction, but I might not have the capacity for it. Or maybe I do, maybe this is an important step for me and the medium in which sex work manifests. We'll see.