Good bye Skegness!

Last week was raining. I thought this week won’t be different. But I’m happy for these days in this small room alone (in the one with the window!) because I can focus on more writing and I had time for some “emotional housecleaning”. This year I wanted to go to the pilgrim’s road to Santiago de Compostella but it requires some financial background what I don’t have this very right moment. Hopefully, my bank account balance will be more stable in the spring and I can rethink it. I have this feeling that I want to be a little isolated from people. I think it’s normal if you constantly work with people (drunk, stupid,  arrogant and loud people..) to be alone in your own world to recharge your batteries. Skegness is the best from that point.
I arrived back yesterday. Everything is the same, except the weather.  Hallelujah,  the sun is shining this weekend! But it seems these are the last sunny days of the year. Today I took a nice long walk on the beach but there were not so many people there. Well, even the coach I took from London was almost empty. Last weekend when I came it was not full, but definitely more people came here for the weekend than this week. The summer is over I guess.
Even the club was empty yesterday. On a Friday evening! I had a few dances but we closed earlier because it was no point to be open. But I still like the people here. So different than in any big cities,  they don’t have a business mind and they are so innocent. I had a customer last week, he doesn’t speak too much and he’s just sitting alone with his beer, but he asked me for a dance. When I got naked, I see sparks in his eyes like a little boy when he’s unwrapping his present under the Christmas tree. Bless him! I enjoyed the dance too, I felt special and appreciated. I wish every dance would be the same. He came back this weekend and he just constantly repeated me how beautiful,  delightful,  special I am. That’s a real ego-boost for me!
Even the women are nice that come to the club. I met 2 girls in their forties and in the first 5 minutes of the conversation they honestly told me that they were prostitutes and “we are in the same boat.” I had a good talk with them, I didn’t feel any competition and bitchiness than usually. You know, there are lots of things I can’t share with my girlfriends outside from the club business. Even they know a lot about my work they can not fully understand the situations. With these girls, we wear the same social stigmas and we can talk honestly about our experiences.
I will miss these kinds of people as these are my last days here. From next week I will jump again in the middle of the mind games as I go back to Switzerland on Monday. Let’s get back to the hardcore business!

I’m a stripper and you can ask anything you want to know..

Let’s play this game. You can ask me anything – seriously anything – about my work, I will give you an honest answer.
I got emails often and the most popular question is how I became a stripper. I used to get male attention since I started modelling at the age of 16. That time I had lots of fight with my dad – no real fights, no verbal or physical abuse, more of a cold war. He didn’t show interest in me, so I was seeking this attention somewhere else. Yes, in my case the psychological cliché as every stripper has daddy issues is true. But during my work years, I’ve seen the proof of the opposite too.
After portrait modelling, I started to do nude modelling. I was always proud of my body and I had trust in the photographers I worked with. I worked in Austria and Italy a lot so I got a bit of a chance to travel. But this time we only speak about artistic nude photography. Like a naked girl, painted in gold standing in the middle of a lake as a statue. Austrian photographers love bodypainting and they are quite creative. I really enjoyed those workshops. But of course, I met different photographers with different offers. I was relatively young and naïve, and the amount of money was very tempting. So slowly I got involved in the adult industry. But this I didn’t enjoy that much. I enjoyed spending the money I made (when I studied on the university, I’m sure in some months I got bigger salary than my teachers.) or I was happy when I could support my mum with a bigger amount but it came with shame.
The opportunity for dancing came on casting when I was talking with other girls and both were a dancer. I was curious so I asked the contact number of the guy that I can apply to. Very soon I went to Italy and after I was with him at the Austrian embassy signing a 3 months contract and waiting for my visa. The beginning was hard. I still remember the song when I first danced on stage. The other girls gave me enough alcohol not to remember what I was doing (thank God!) but I still remember the song was Get busy by Sean Paul.
When I finished the contract, I had 2 choices: I carry on dancing and I make more money, but then I lose the energy I already invested in my studies. That was after my 2nd year at the university, I was halfway to get my diploma and I’m not the kind of person who gives up easily. I decided to go back and finish my studies. I told myself “If I miss the spotlights, I still can work as a dancer afterwards.” But when I got my diploma, I forgot all about the stage, private dances, selling champagne and extra high stripper shoes. I wanted to have an average life. But that was a difficult time in my country, after a few failures in finding a good job I decided to move to England for 1-2 years. In Hungary, I was already thinking about trying out myself abroad when I was sitting in a job interview and listen to the guy offering me a job in another city, that meant minimum 2,5 hours travel every day, over time, limited access to grow for the minimum salary. That was all that my country could offer me. No, thank you. I quit. I went home from the interview and I bought a one-way ticket to England.
The first year I had a normal job as a nanny. Then I moved to London from the countryside and I found all those dodgy opportunities working at night. I started to work at a hostess club on Little Portland Street to improve my English. I was about talking and selling champagne but no dancing. It was great fun, good money, I didn’t look for other options. Then I changed the club and started to work at the Directors Lodge at St. James. That was the longest time I spent in one club, I worked there for almost 2 years. But still no dancing. Then I had a chance to change working in a restaurant where I was quite disappointed and not long after I was heading to Greece. (you can read more about in the Beginning 2. post)
Long story short, this is my life. This is what made me who I am today. Now I’m not ashamed anymore, I take full responsibility for all my decisions, without regrets. And today I’m brave enough to tell you that you can ask me ANYTHING, I will give you an honest answer.

I was working in Skegness on the weekend

I’m still keeping my words that I don’t really want to work in London, and I thought this time I give a chance to the British countryside instead of the busy capital. Now to be honest I feel a little bit tired to travel again so far. So I had a little conversation with myself to stay in England and try out some new clubs here. One of the British girls in Iceland recommended this club to me, then I contacted the owner, he was nice and extremely helpful so I thought I have nothing to lose. I’ve taken a bigger risk in my life to travel to other continents for work and I didn’t have any personal contact with any of the staff members from that club, only the agency. Agencies take percentage after you from the club, they, of course, want you to go there and they only tell you the nice things. To travel circa 200 km from London to try a club is really nothing to me. Plus I thought Skegness as a holiday place can be busy for the long weekend.
Afterall I’m not surprised that things are not going to be smooth. The club is open only 3 days on the weekends, in theory, it sounds perfect to me to work there and weekdays I’m back in London and I have plenty of time on my hands to finish other stuff I have to. But this bank holiday weekend was extremely boring and slow in Skegness! When I worked in the hostess club in London, the bank holiday weekends were always quiet because people travel to the countryside.. but in the countryside didn’t seem to be crowded either! Does anybody know where are the people then???
They provide accommodation but the place is not 5 stars. In my room, there is no window and it cost me £10 per day. Bloody hell! When I write here I feel like a poor French realist writing in a dark mansard room with candlelight and his only companions are the pigeons on the roof. Luckily there is a door to the rooftop and when it’s sunny I can leave that door open. I don’t think I will spend much time there though. Although when I worked in Canada, the accommodation was similar. Above the club, there were big double rooms originally, but they divided them into 2 single rooms, obviously, the windows were attached to one of them. In the inside rooms were no windows too and I stayed in one of them (for 3 months!) Can you imagine how much time I spent indoors?
And about the people in Skegness: they are – let’s say – simple. (Not in a bad way.) If they don’t want to pay you, they tell you straight. Sometimes it’s a much more appreciated way than playing a game or promising “I’ll have a dance with you later.” Do you know how many times I’ve heard that sentence? And of course in this term “later” means “never”. Actually, I’m happy not to play those mind games with them. And these guys are a little bit naïve too. They have difficulties to understand why I don’t want to work in London. They immediately start to laugh when I say I came all the way from London to Skegness to work in a strip club. “Oh, there is much more money in London!” I’m a bit of tired to explain it again and again why not.
But after all these actually, I’m considering to work in London. At least one day to try. I said so many times that I don’t want to work in London clubs because too much competition and bitchiness between the girls, but never experienced myself. It’s like how can I write about something I don’t have personal experience about? But I need to get my guts up before I go to the cage of the lions.
Until I will be chillin’ in Skegness in my windowless room.