They aren’t coming to a strip club for guitar lessons. But my guilt faded as I realised that nobody forces them to pay to see my vagina. Some patrons leave without a cent-not even a cab-fare home. Back when the big bucks first started rolling in, I sometimes felt a little ashamed over bleeding a customer dry, especially those susceptible to a lap dance or ten.

Into the lap-dance room and my carefully orchestrated routine are second nature to me. These days, both the spiel with which I enticed the electrician And unless he’s gay, what man can say no to a naked woman sitting on the floor at d**k-level? Always end a lap dance while sitting naked on the floor while staring up at your customer with big, beseeching eyes that way, you appear less calculating and more vulnerable while suggesting he part with extra money. It might not work every time, but my method has a track record of success.

How did I accomplish this feat? Simple: I asked if he’d like to extend the dance. I then hustled him out of a further two hundred bucks. Now that the electrician thought I was attracted to him, he handed over a hundred dollars for a lapĭance. ‘I’d really like to do a naked dance-just for you,’ I added, to imply how special he was. But by then it would be too late for him to back out, and nor would he want to, with all that naked flesh on display. Little did he know, another ten customers would be in there spending ‘alone time’ with the stripper of their choice in one large room. This, you see, hinted at a private, darkened space. ‘Why don’t you and I spend some time together in the back room?’ You seem smart enough to land the big jobs.’ Once I’d inflated his ego, I went in for the kill. ‘Let me guess, you probably have a government contract. ‘Do you have your own business? I bet you do! A man like you doesn’t look like he’d work for just anybody.’ (A fair assumption, based on the cash he was carrying.) ‘Oh, wait!’ I laid it on thick. Another rule to remember is that people love talking about themselves let a customer tell you his life story, and he becomes putty in your hands.Īfter that, I began phase two: I switched to making him feel like a king. I allowed him to tell me a longwinded tale while I calculated how much money I was likely to entice out of him. ‘Really? An electrician?! What’s the most fascinating thing that ever happened to you on the job? Have you ever been electrocuted?!’ I began as I usually do: I set upon making him feel like the most intelligent man in the world, with the most interesting career-despite the fact that he screws in light bulbs for a living.

Once I’d spotted at least a grand in his wallet, my talent for manipulation kicked into overdrive. The below information is how a stripper operates at work. Who would have guessed at the wad of hundreds in his wallet? Me-that’s who, because I saw them.Ī good rule to bear in mind when patronising a strip club is never to show a stripper how much money you have while ordering a drink at the bar. This is an edited extract from Sunshine by Samantha C Ross, published by Allen and Unwin and available in all good bookstores.ĭarwin, though not exactly Melbourne, London or LA, does have a certain backward charm, and presents a more pliant and gullible style of customer than jaded big-city patrons.Įxample? After a relatively slow start at the club tonight, with only a few hundred-dollar dances to show for it, I luckily wound up talking to a weathered old electrician.

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