Diary Of A Stripper Mom

I was a stripper long before I had ever thought of being a mother. In fact, I was stripping long before I ever hit the strip bar scene. Dancing naked for money always was a way for me to have money in my pockets. I thought, when I was a sophomore in high school that stripping for the guys was a way to get and keep their attention. That evolved from stripping for weed and alcohol to doing it for money. It wasn’t large amounts of money, but for a hanfulvof bills a guy could watch me move in ways that made them “fall in love” with me. Sometimes I would get the vibe from a return guy and things would get a little closer, get a little more intimate, and get a little hotter. At times I would find myself very horny and very sexually aroused, sometimes to the point where I would let the guy touch me or sometimes I would touch him. In the end, I learned a handjob or a blowjob went a long way towards guys coming back, and when they did they brought friends who would bring money. I lived this secret little life for quite a while. Close to the mid second semester of my junior year I found out I was pregnant. The result of a party that got way out of hand with some college boys. I had gotten very wasted on something or another and appearantly I passed out. Rumor has it that 5 or 6 of them had fucked me so brutally that I was taken to the emergency room because I was bleeding so heavily. As a result of that night, the night I lost my virginity to more than one guy I would soon find out I was pregnant.

Shortly after I began to show signs that I was pregnant I made the choice to leave home, to leave high school, to leave everything behind, and live with my aunt in New Mexico. With only a month to go before my son was to be born I was approached by the parents of one of the college boys involved. They had a substantial offer for me. They offered me $50,000.00 in exchange for my son. They offered to make sure I graduated high school, to put me through college, and leave me with a healthy sum of money as a nest egg to start myself a life. The only catch was that I could never contact them for any reason and I would never be able to see my son. That was many years ago. They held up their end of the deal. Before anything was done I found myself signing legal documents for the arrangements and the adoption of my son. They paid all the hospital bills when the time came. They paid for me to fly back to Houston so I could move back home and finish high school. After I graduated high school, I made my way into the University of Houston, where I graduated with honors with a business degree. After I graduated, a few weeks went by, and I received a large manilla envelope delivered by a messenger. There was a letter in it along with three sets of keys. The letter was brief and very business like, but it explained quite a bit.

The first set of keys was for a house, included with the keys to the house was a deed, in my name, and the closing documents showing I owned the house outright. The second set of keys were for a new Nissan Titan pickup. Also included was the title and proof of insurance. The letter stated I would find the truck in the garage of the house. The last set of keys went to a safe deposit box. The only information provided was the address where the safe deposit box was located. I went to the bank that was listed in the letter and then sat in a room, alone staring at a closed safe deposit box because I feared opening it. After about 15 minutes I did open it and when I did I cried like the day I gave up my son. There were 4 items in the box. On top was a envelope with a note and a picture of a boy. The note, dated just days prior, explained this was a picture of my son at age 7. The note said the other contents, which were cash and two checks, were to get my life started. I removed everything from the box and put it all in my purse, except the picture, I walked out carrying the picture. I had been saving allot of the money they have sent over the years not knowing exactly what for.

Over the years I had more than one part time job, being a waitress was always the most productive for me personally. I found being a waitress in strip bars paid very well and often did it because it was very familiar to me. While in college I needed to form a business plan as a project and show on paper the birth and success of my business in order to pass these classes. I used that business plan and a fair sum of the money left for me to open my dream business. My business was literally built from the ground up with the help of a very special friend who was an aspiring architect at the time. After the planning, zoning, and licensing, we broke ground. Thirteen months later I opened the doors for the very first time to Club X. The club had grand success in its first two years and I took the business opportunity to open a second location in Dallas.

One day, out of the blue, the head of security for the club entered my office and announced I had a visitor. A young boy, around 11, introduced himself to me in the politest way I have ever heard. He handed me an envelope so I could read the documents inside. I broke down in tears because I was reading custody papers involving my son. Releasing me of my prior contracts and legal agreements. I looked up to see my son walking to me, telling me everything will be okay now, I am home now momma. Indeed he was, my baby boy was finally home. Skip forward now, several years, in one short week I will watch him walk across the stage to graduate high school.

The above accounts were never told to me while I was an employee (bartender) at Club X. Instead, I received a letter from my former boss along with a graduation invitation from her son. I was given her permission to retell her story here. I guess this goes to show that even though you might think you know a person, you never really know that person. The above picture was taken two months ago at her 35th birthday party where she performed as a part of the festivities. She still performs flawlessly as y’all can probably imagine. Now, to keep my blog out of trouble, y’all only get to see the one picture. Why? Let’s just say that Club X was born a full nude strip club and has always remained a full nude strip club. It was a cool night for me, however, because I always wondered what was underneath her attire and unlike most employees. I got to see my boss dancing in her birthday suit on her birthday. Bonus for me. As a note, this post was written a few days ago, sent to her via email for approval, and is now in the green for posting.

Over the years I have tried to bring a human touch to the world of the strip club when telling individual stories on “Scorpion Stings Bartender Stories” but so far, this had been the one that will forever leave its mark on me. I offer an invitation to all of y’all who might have a story to tell of your own, just email it to me with your pictures and I will put it in one of three categories, The Sting Of The Scorpion, Scorpion Stings Bartender Stories, or The Magic Weekend. I am always looking for new life stories to add for people to read. You can find descriptions of each category within the links found to the top and to the right on this blog.