Devon Hunter

You know what? I have been in a funk for a couple days, because of this past weekend in Atlanta; however, my trainer Carrie was talking to me about a show called Intervention. I went and checked some clips out. Let me just say this: MY LIFE IS NOT SO BAD. Jesus?!  HAHAHAHAHAHA That was exactly what I needed to see.

Hey Devon,

I was wondering… What do you hate most about being a dancer?

- Inquisitive

Dear Inquisitive,

Every job has it’s challenges. There are parts of my work that I absolutely love: Performing, meeting new people, travelling to different places, setting my own schedule, having a real impetus to stay fit… Of course, all of those have their down sides as well, but generally those are my favorite parts of working in clubs.

I don’t know why you’re asking me this, so I don’t know how to frame my answer. Do you want to know, because you’re considering the career and you want to know what to expect? Or are you just curious? I suppose I can just speak to both at the same time.

Although I enjoy my work, I would have to say that these are my 10 biggest pet peeves about the work (rated from least annoying to most, for me personally):

10 Clothed patrons who make cynical comments to me about my appearance while I’m disrobed.

9 The same songs every night, no matter where I’m dancing.

8 Oily strippers.

7 Cigarette smoke.

6 Free advice from either patrons or dancers about the career that wasn’t requested in the first place.

5 Living on a completely inverted schedule from everyone else in the world.

4 Having to constantly explain why adult entertainment is a “real” career.

3 People who sit by the stage and text all night. Hello! You could do that at the back of the room!

2 Straight dancers talking shit about the gay patrons who support them.

1 Being treated like Hester Prynne by strangers outside of work while socializing with my friends in public.

I am certain that I’m one of the Goddess’s most aggravating children. But I also think that She rolls her eyes affectionately as She huffs about me. I’m taking the night off. I can’t work right now. I did okay last night (a very bizarre night), and my costs are covered. I’ll go to Columbia this weekend with a respectable little “bonus” to go on top of whatever I make Friday and Saturday.

So, although there were only nine dancers at Swinging Richards last night (the lowest I’ve personally ever seen), there were also about that many patrons. I was offered a drink, something I normally don’t accept; however, after the last two weeks I was very annoyed that I’d driven all the way from Charlotte to Atlanta for such a lousy showing. Somehow I still generated a respectable piece of change. The problem is that I can’t account for half of it.

I know I did one chair dance that lasted two songs. A man tipped me a $20 on stage. I had one man get half a lap dance, but pay for three, and therefore the balance is whatever else I made on stage. It seems like an impossibly high number of $1 bills for so few tippers. I drank waaaay more than I normally do, and it really didn’t do anything except make me skip around an empty bar, singing to the Pussy Cat Dolls, Chingy, and T-Pain. Not pretty. I also told the manager (yes, The Matt) that I was tired of waiting for him to make love to me by a roaring fire, and then demanded a napkin and a lighter to simulate the effect during a quick boink. God! Stupid.

The reason I need the night off is the half-lapdance that paid for three. This has never, in all my time doing this, happened to me: He started crying. Real tears. They were rolling down his face. One fell off his cheek and splattered lightly on my navel. I thought I’d hurt him in some unknown way.

He was weeping and sobbing. I was drunk, but not completely out of my wits. He told me how it hurt him that the only way he could touch a beautiful man was to pay for it. That took me completely aback. I’ve run into this conversation before, but not with tears hitting my bellybutton, and not while I was drunk and still feeling raw about my own situation.

I made the only choice I could think of: I gave him his $20 back, and I gave him a hug. I told him something along the lines that if someone doesn’t want him for who he is, then he doesn’t need them. Something trite that sounds completely insincere today. I definitely didn’t intend to hurt his feelings. In my inebriation, this was all I could think to do. I don’t understand why, but he insisted on paying me for a dance I hadn’t even done, and then tipped me heavily. I just took it. I’m not in the mindset right now to debate these things.

Anyway, something about that entire interaction has piled on top of everything else, and I just don’t feel like being touched today. I want to be left alone, so that I can watch TV, or read, or fall asleep, or anything but entertain someone else right now.

I’m sorry that my postings have been so dark this week. I will return to form soon. I can already feel the light trying to break through the clouds. Give me a day or so, and I’ll be back to me. I may take a few days off from blogging, but when I come back my mood will be better. Promise.

I’ve not talked too much about the competitive nature of what I do. I’ve mentioned office drama vaguely. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned it directly at all. Perhaps a few instances here and there of “if you see others doing well, and you’re not, don’t take it personally…” But I don’t recall ever mentioning what the dressing room is like…

It’s definitely dependent on the club and the environment it creates for itself, its patrons, and its staff. PT1109 in Columbia, SC is very friendly, in my opinion. For the most part the patrons are very good natured, the bartenders are supportive of the dancers, the owner is a no-nonsense type of dude, and 90% of the dancers are laid back. Every now and then we get an asshole in there, but they don’t last long at PT1109. That bar is definitely the kind of place where attitude isn’t rewarded much, no matter how big your muscles are.

Conversely, Swinging Richards can sometimes feel like a fucking beauty pageant backstage. What a bunch of stupid drama!! And men have the audacity to call women gossipy?? These straight guys cease being sexy the moment they walk back stage and start talking… ugh! For the most part we all get along very well in Atlanta, or live and let live; however, there are a few guys who should be glad they’re so much bigger than me. There are a few who really need a good, swift kick in the butt. They tend to be the same ones who sabatoge the dancers they don’t like. Gotta watch ‘em…  I’ve also experienced some haters at The Castle in Greenville - former dancers… go figure.

It can be discouraging when you aren’t comfortable with your coworkers. It can get downright ugly when you have good reason to believe someone is actually undermining you on purpose. I know I’ve painted a portrait of myself as someone who is very nice (because I am), but I do not tolerate people being destructive to me in this particular manner. I’ve tolerated other forms of abuse, but I have zero patience for other dancers (or former dancers) doing or saying anything to make me look bad to patrons. Devon to Diva in about 2.3 seconds flat. Miss Thang does know how to raise an eyebrow at a bitchy strippa.

What then do you do? It’s best to first try to talk to the person/people in question, to make certain that there’s not a misunderstanding that can’t be fixed among peers. Most of the time instigators will back off really fast - people know when they’re in the wrong. If polite inquiry doesn’t help, then I start channeling Miss Jackson. I do this so rarely that it tends to accomplish what Southern Charm doesn’t. In only a few instances have I had to speak to a Booking Manager or some other figure of authority.

If you are going to dance at a club or event where there are other dancers, you simply have to accept that there will be competition. Scotty and I have a friendly competition - we stay in shape, we check in with each other, we encourage each other, I tell Scotty if a patron tells me Scotty is hot (and vice versa), and we are happy for each other when either or both do well.

Sadly, competition isn’t always friendly. Some people do not appreciate the value of collaboration. They are too selfish to see that they will do better if everyone on the team looks good. Would you go buy a car at a lot with one nice vehicle and 30 jallopies? Or would you be more likely to go shop at a place where the lot can offer you your choice of sports cars? I guess some strippers are just ignorant. Whatever.

If you find yourself confronted by a destructive dancer, former dancer, patron, staff member… It’s often best to behave better, so that their criticisms look empty. How can anyone believe an ugly-acting person when you yourself are so charming, polite, beguiling, sexy, and friendly to the people who are slandering you. In almost every case I have found that the person hating on you makes himself look way worse than anything he could do to you. In fact, I have had friends of haters come up and tip or compliment me, specifically so that I and others wouldn’t lump them in with the person causing the problem.

Where is the love? It’s in you. It’s also in the people who end up being sympathetic/empathetic to you for being the “victim” of malice. People tend to side with the person targeted, not the person who is being aggressive. You will probably not win people’s minds over by being confrontational. If someone says you’re gross, unattractive, dirty, stupid, whorish, etc., and you get mean… it will, on some level, confirm in the minds of others that you must, after all, be the brutish piece of trash they thought you were. Reasonable people generally can’t help but respond constructively to maturity and positivity.

You know who you are. Forget the haters. The ones you should be most dismissive of (in the kindest manner possible), are the former dancers who wish they were still the center of attention, but are not. These people are acting out because of jealousy. Whatever they are saying about you probably has no basis in reality. Let it go, and keep connecting with the people who do like you (see the flip-side to all this: “Here is the love!”).

I’ve said this before, but I want to remind myself and all my adult entertainment friends of something I was told by Carlos (he seems to be my exotic dance guru - and for good reason, too!): Remember that you are valuable beyond what your earn. Separate your self-worth from what you make. You are more than your money.

Working for tips is hard. You can’t plan. Some nights you’re on. Others, not so much. There’s only so much you can do to affect this: You can workout, be nice, and approach every person in the room and still not make good money. You can watch someone who isn’t very attractive, very nice, and/or impressive in some way or another sweep the bar. You simply cannot know.

The reason I’m saying this (and I’m surprised I haven’t blogged about it sooner) is because last night at the club was BAD. It was BAD BAD BAD. So many of my beautiful brothers were taking it personally. We all are vulnerable in this work, since our bodies and our egos are laid bare, but I’d like to remind all my friends that it is not them. It isn’t you, booboo! It’s a combination of factors that you cannot control! You are just as amazing on your off-nights as you are on your a-list nights.

Something you simply must remember is that there are times when you will do well and times when you won’t. Rather than looking at what you make each night, look at your longer goals and averages. Consider how everything tends to balance itself out in a week, or even a month. You have to let the cold water roll over your back. It’s easy to forget how amazing you are, but really: YOU ARE FUCKING FABULOUS.