the rack and the screw

Types of dancers, types of customers

Posted in sex work by bellareve on February 24, 2009

Although a variety of women can be found dancing at a club, and a variety of (mostly) men can be found watching/paying, I have noticed some general categories that have shown up over and over again, in my experience, in terms of the WHY. Obviously some categories overlap.


1. Single mothers who do sex work as a second or third job to make ends meet. Many women I have met alternated between night shifts as nurse practitioners and day shifts as dancers, or vice versa. 

2. Students and/or artists who dance in order to pay tuition/rent. (The girl stripping her way thru college is no myth. I was her.)

3. Immigrant women who don’t have the documentation required to get another type of job, and also had a difficult time getting hired elsewhere because they struggled with English. 


1. Men who are severely shy & socially awkward.

2. Men (often married) who share their, IMO, silly and innocuous fetishes, like feet & femdom & armpit licking.

3. College guys who can be boisterous and don’t generally pay well, but were my favorite because many are cute and seem just excited and appreciative to be around naked girls. 

4. Oh dear. The smug, entitled assholes who visit strip clubs solely because they get off on treating women like shit. Body snarking on all the dancers, blatantly racist comments for the WOC, mocking/insulting you for being a sex worker, grabbing, trying to “scare” and intimidate you, stalking & following, calling you a bitch if you don’t do “extras,” trying to not pay or actually stealing your money. Unfortunately, these were the VAST majority of customers I came in contact with, which is ultimately why I stopped stripping. 

See, categories 1-3 never bothered me. As someone who likes to look at naked women, I can hardly blame anybody else for liking to look at naked women, and going somewhere for that purpose. But the category 4s pay money specifically to express hatred for women. I was lucky in the sense that I was never raped on the job, although I was effectively held hostage once.


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