Beginnings
September 16, 2008
I often get asked how I got started in this line of work, usually by clients, but occasionally by someone with simply an interest in the type of work I do. My path here followed one that is not uncommon with a lot of women in this business, but it had some unique “inputs” along the way.
Like many other escorts, my entry into prostitution followed a trajectory that arced through stripping. But it wasn’t a direct path – I didn’t enter prostitution simply to make more money than I could make as a dancer like many women do. In fact, the fact that I was a stripper is fairly coincidental to my work as an escort, rather than correlative or causative. My entry into stripping was a complex and winding story that started several years ago when we were in high school, believe it or not. So, let’s go there for a few minutes.
While seniors in high school, Nikki and I had to do a book report for English, just like every other student on the planet does from time to time. By this point in our lives, she and I had no fears about flaunting our sexuality - we both knew we had “it,” and weren’t afraid to push the envelope when the occasion permitted. We weren’t the school sluts or anything but we knew how to work what we had to our advantage, shall we say.
Largely out of fun, and in all honesty to push some buttons, we selected a book entitled “Ivy League Stripper,” by a lady named Heidi Mattson, to use as the subject of our report. The book chronicles Heidi’s decision to start stripping to pay for college at Brown University, for those of you who’ve not heard of it. It is actually a very well written insight into Ms. Mattson’s decision to start dancing and its consequences and ramifications for her school life and her personal life.
Of course, our teacher was initially aghast at our selection, but when we showed her that it was not the lascivious, wanton fuck story that she expected, she agreed to let us use it if we agreed to address the character development issues Heidi faced. To this day, I’m still surprised by our teacher’s decision to allow its use (and the year after that, they began requiring pre-approval for the books, btw). We read the book, wrote our report and presented it to the class. I still remember the look on our classmates’ eyes when Nikki announced the title of the book. 
I had no way of knowing at the time that Nikki was heavily impacted by the book, and was so enthralled by the sheer visual imagery she imagined as she read the story that she decided then that she wanted to be a stripper some day. We knew each other *very* well by this point (and I mean that in the carnal sense), and she never said the first word about it until two weeks before she turned 18. And she only told me then because she had decided to go to a local club in the city we were living in at the time (Nashville) to audition to be a dancer. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather. At any rate, she auditioned, was offered a job and began dancing on her 18th birthday (in January, while she was still in high school, no less). I celebrated my 18th by getting a tattoo on my back and one of my nipples pierced!
As time wore on, I could see that she really enjoyed what she was doing. As I watched her practice her moves in our dorm one night, I was captivated by how sensually she could move her body – it just seemed so…fluidly erotic. I, on the other hand, couldn’t dance for shit.
In a conversation with my sister one night, I explained to her about Nikki and the dancing, and my desire to be able to move like that. She let on that she knew of a studio in LA (where she was living while attending UCLA) that offered pole dancing and other erotic movement classes – she’d seen it on Oprah of all places. It was operated by an actress named Sheila Kelley - her studio was the S-Factor Studio. At this point, pole dancing classes were new, and to the best of my knowledge weren’t offered anywhere outside of LA.
I visited my sister every summer in late July, and this one was no different, so it seemed as though with this visit I could kill two birds with one stone. When I arrived, I signed up for one of the classes, and literally learned how to work a pole in a week. One of the instructors spent some quality time with me after hours showing me some interesting tricks, and I eventually got the hang of it. I never knew a pole could be so sensual; I found that being on the pole appealed to the exhibitionist in me, even if no one was watching.
A week later I returned home, not having told Nikki that I’d been to the dance class, preferring instead to spring it on her as a surprise at some point. Over the next couple of months, as I watched, I began to wonder more and more what it would be like to actually get up on stage and dance in front of a crowd. Nikki had been trying to get me to come see her dance ever since she started, and I finally caved in - curiosity got the better of me. I went and was flabbergasted at what I saw. The absolute beauty of the female form gliding across the stage, climbing and descending the poles was breathtaking. I was, quite literally, stunned at what I saw and the reaction of the crowd to the dancers. I really didn’t even bother to think about the socio-political ramifications of stripping at this point, even though I was acutely aware of them, largely because I just didn’t care.
When we talked about my experience after we got home that night, she suggested that I was come dance at their weekly amateur night. I was like, “Oh, no, I couldn’t do that” initially, but the more I thought about it, the more intrigued I became.
I was fighting an internal battle, one largely imposed upon me by our society. I was raised in a quasi-naturist family. We went to nudist resorts, nude beaches and the like as a family. I was raised in an environment where there was no shame in being naked around others. So it wasn’t that I had to get over the thoughts about being naked in front of a crowd, but rather the stigma that society places on strippers that was giving me pause. Even though Nikki was working as a dancer, and we were best friends, I still had this idea in the back of my head that strippers were drug-addicted degenerates who couldn’t find anything better to do with their lives. My trip to the club had gone some ways toward abating that, but it is hard to get what you’ve heard all these years out of your head (I still wrestle with that with respect to prostitution as well, I might add).
After two weeks of thinking, and making tentative decisions to go, and then backing out (and practicing to Brittany’s “Toxic” while Nikki was at work), I *finally* worked up the courage to give it a shot. So, I borrowed an outfit Nik used and went with her to the club that night. I was incredibly nervous, but excited at the same time. I was wondering how much of the pole work I’d learned at S-Factor I had retained!!!
I sat in the audience and watched for the first hour or so. Nikki took the stage for her first set, and surprised me by trying to get me to come up on stage with her. The crowd, of course, egged her on, and with all of that enticement, I couldn’t exactly refuse. So I got up on stage and she danced around me as I stood there for a few minutes wondering what the fuck I should do. She started peeling my shirt off, much to the crowd’s delight, and I started dancing with her a little bit. That was about as far as it got, though she planted a huge kiss on me as her music ended. I was astounded at the reaction of the people in the club as well. Everyone seemed to have gotten big kick out of it all.
When it came time for the competition, I was third in line. After my name was called and everyone saw that it was the same girl that had been up there before, they went nuts. I got up and the DJ cued up Toxic and let her rip, I started moving as best as I could. I don’t think I looked at anyone in the crowd the entire time - quite honestly, I was dancing like a deer in the headlights. I honestly don’t even recall if I did the routine I’d worked out or if I just flailed about like an injured seal. I know at the end of it, I was naked with the exception of a tiny little g-string.
The crowd seemed to really enjoy it though. I did manage to do two pole tricks (which, looking back now, seem terribly simplistic), whereas only one other girl had even attempted to do any. When they announced the results, I was the winner of the $500 prize, and the manager offered me a job. I looked over at Nikki and she was like, “Please, please say yes.” So, I accepted, thinking that if/when I got to the point where I didn’t like what I was doing I could certainly quit.
That was in September of 2004, and Nikki and I continued to dance for the next few months at this one club. In the spring of 2005, after one of our vacation trips to Fort Lauderdale, we came to the decision to move to southern Florida. We’d been down there numerous times, and from my personal research, the work environment for dancers was much more, shall we say, robust – more clubs, more money, better working conditions, etc. So we quit school (both of us were going to MTSU at the time and both majoring in business administration), packed up all of our shit, and moved to Fort Lauderdale. When we got there, we went through the process of transferring to the University of Miami, I changed my major to Psychology, and finished out my degree. And I might add, I did so without incurring any debt, which is impressive considering UM is a private university.
And then, of course, I decided to make the move to San Francisco.
Posted by Alexa | Filed Under Miscellaneous
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8 Responses to “Beginnings”
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Alexa,
I find these posts to be extremely interesting. All of your posts dealing with your journey to become who you are today (and by that I mean the free thinking woman who is comfortable with her sexuality) are completely fascinating to me.
I love all of your writing, but there just seems to be something so much more “real” to these posts.
I truly hope you don’t go away anytime soon.
Brian
Brian,
I love all of your writing, but there just seems to be something so much more “real” to these posts.
I truly hope you don’t go away anytime soon.
Thank you for your comments. Ironically, I had entertained some thoughts about not writing any more, since the number of comments seem to have died down of late. That’s not likely in the near term, though.
Anyway, again, thank you.
Don’t stop posting!
I don’t always comment, but I read every post.
Please keep posting…..
Alexa,
Am I not giving you enough attention? I’m sorry.
I continue to enjoy your posts very much. I’ve been busy and have not had too much time to contribute. I apologize for that — a little selfish, I suppose.
Anyway, please keep posting. I enjoy your work here very much.
Alexa,
I love following your blog about adventures in your real life, personally not so interested in fiction though. When that day comes that you move on I hope you leave us with some sort of closure. I have followed a number of bloggers who just disappear without explanation after getting wrapped up their lives. BTW were is the promised post on your facial party?
Keeping with above comments…. please keep posting.
Most intriguing. Keep it up!
I love that story.
And, the thought of you flailing about like an injured seal (way back when) is somewhat endearing.
Please keep sharing your stories.