Exclusive sample of Expose Yourself, Chapter 9 Praying for Control
In honor of National Prayer Day, here is an exclusive sample of Expose Yourself: How to Take Risks, Question Everything, and Find Yourself ~ Humor and Insights from my life as a Stripper
Praying for Control
Rethink Your Mental Talking
Trapped in a lap dance booth and desperately trying to ignore the building pressure in my belly, I close my eyes to say a quiet little prayer in my mind. The song which is supposed to be limited to three and a half or four minutes at the most, feels like it will never end. I’m slowly moving in the lap of a gentleman who is completely enthralled with my performance. For the sake of aesthetics, I am doing everything I can to keep my stomach muscles tight, hoping I don’t give away my current discomfort. I’m terrified that if I relax my abdomen, I will reveal the secret that I am hiding. I have to pee. Badly. What or who will bring an end to this nightmare?
I keep my eyes closed in hopes that if I focus on the wish I’m repeating in my head, the endless song will end. This continuous loop of begging is running through my mind that I hope will be heard. My relentless mental begging is in part distracting me from the horror of the lap dance I’m performing. Finally, I hear the DJ start to talk into the mic, indicating that finally this song is over. My prayer has been answered. I express my relief and gratitude in another silent plea. My gratitude is short lived, however, as the man underneath me tells me he wants another song. Crap. It’s a slow night, close to the end of the month, and there just aren’t very many other potential customers, so I continue dancing.
I also continue my silent wishes. They seemed to be answered the first time, so why not keep doing it? There are plenty of girls on the stage list, and it seems at least possible that the DJ might keep the songs to the minimum time in order to move through the list faster. I hope and wish once again that my silent pleas will be heard, and the songs will be kept short. This time my prayer doesn’t work. I count the choruses in the song and can tell it’s going over the time. I suspect that my DJ has left the booth for a smoke, oblivious to my suffering. Or maybe he is aware of my plight and is trying to teach me a lesson? Patience, tolerance, endurance? Who am I to question the guy in charge? He is the man in the booth, and I have no choice but to trust his judgement. I am once again wishing that the DJ will grant me mercy in my time of need.
When I pray to the strip club DJ, it would appear that he answers my prayers about fifty percent of the time. Why he chooses this ratio, I do not fully grasp. When I am dancing in the lap of someone who is less than pleasant, or I am experiencing physical discomfort, my beloved DJ seems to respond to my silent communications at his own whim. Sometimes he is gracious and grants a reprieve, while other times he seems to want to prolong my discomfort. Still, if I am able to accrue a significant profit, I give him a generous tip. Even if I don’t fully understand his reasons or agenda, I still make sure I give him his proper due in hopes that he will show me mercy the next time. I make sure he knows that I am grateful.