Friday, April 24, 2009
So, I finally managed to score a gig as a stripper. Sweet! Yeah, I know, it fucking took me long enough, huh? Well whatever, I finally got around to it, and that's what's important. Anybody who says otherwise has a stupid face.
Anyways, today was pretty much the job interview. You know how in most job interviews you come in, shake hands, discuss your resume, shit like that? Well, not quite. Instead, the interview involves you going up onstage and shaking your junk like an Etch-A-Sketch. Needless to say, for someone who's never danced before and has all the grace and rhythm of Bambi, this is like signing up for the Army and having someone throw an active grenade at you.
So, here's how the shit went down: The Dj called my name, which is now "Peter" (There's a reason behind this, which I'm sure will become apparent in the near future). I hauled ass on stage, hoping for a good song, when what blares on the speaker?
Katy fucking Perry's "I Kissed A Girl".
Moving beyond the fact that this is a terrible fucking song, it just seems wildly...I dunno, out of place for a gay strip club really. I tried not to think about it too much, since (A) People don't come to a strip club to ponder gender politics, and (B) the irony would have made my head explode, which I'm told is kind of a deal breaker on your first day.
Afterwards, I took a break to check out the room where the dancers get prepped, got a few questions answered, and realized just how badly my french sucks. Thus far, I'm the sole anglophone in the place (as far as I can tell), and my current mastery of the french language sucks like a fucking hoover. On the plus side, the guys were very sweet about my complete lack of intelligence, and they were all seriously friendly, welcoming, and of course, pretty fucking hot.
Of course, time came to do a second dance, this time to "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls. Not to worry, I'm apparently allowed to bring in some CDs of my own choosing, so I'll be sure to bring long some Lily Allen. Anyways, I was rushing to get on the stage, only to find my brand new 75% off Converse Sneaker snag the edge of the stage on my way up. Needless to say, I busted ass head first on stage. It was kinda noticeable. Thankfully, if there's one thing I learned, it's that people are far more forgiving when you wiggle your tuchus in their face.
Either way, I guess the bossman saw something in me, because I'll be back onstage Saturday from 8:15 to closing. So if you're in the Montreal area and have a penis (sorry, Ladies Night is Monday and Tuesdays), make your way down. I'll be the white boy who looks like he's about to pass out.