BEHIND THE POLE: The truth about exotic dancing

By Torrin Richelle

Exotic dancing is a popular industry and can be an easy way to earn quick cash. My goal is to educate people on what it all entails by sharing my story.

I talk about my firsthand experience, customers, the condition of the clubs, how owners and most of the staff treat the dancers, and how dancers are treated outside of the club, if they are truthful about what they do for a living. My experience goes from how I started dancing to what made me hang up my stilettos for good.

I also talk about my daughter's experience as a dancer a few years after I quit, and you will see that things have not improved. I think it is time to expose this to the rest of the world so people will quit blaming the dancers for their choice of career and make them human again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9798889825777

Book preview

Table of Contents

Preface

Chapter 1: My First Time Inside a Gentlemen's Club

Chapter 2: The Audition

Chapter 3: First Week on the Job

Chapter 4: Polishing My Skills

Chapter 5: The Meaning of Dirty

Chapter 6: More of the Same

Chapter 7: Kansas City, Missouri

Chapter 8: Stripping in My Hometown

Chapter 9: Final Club

Chapter 10: Dahlia

Chapter 11: My Feelings about Exotic Dancing

About the Author

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BEHIND THE POLE

The truth about exotic dancing

Torrin Richelle

Copyright © 2023 Torrin Richelle

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2023

ISBN 979-8-88982-576-0 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88982-577-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Dedicated to my late Grandma Doris who was always there for me!

Preface

Every show I watch or book I read about exotic dancing is usually about someone trying to glamorize their profession or convince others to accept it and them. When most think of stripping, they see a metal pole on a stage with a beautiful woman wearing next to nothing dancing around it while men gaze in awe, throwing money at her.

In the following chapters, I have described what goes on behind the scenes in gentleman clubs in America. I am speaking on my daughter's and my own experience working in the industry.

I think it is time the truth comes out about how club owners treat the dancers that make their business what it is, the conditions of most of the clubs, drugs and alcohol, expenses, laws, low-end customers, catfights, the havoc it wreaks on your body, and the way dancers are treated outside the club.

I did not mention all the names of clubs or people involved, but I did describe the experiences I have witnessed and had myself in full detail.

Chapter 1

My First Time Inside a Gentlemen's Club

I left the army in December 1989 while stationed at Fort Lewis, Washington. I had to end my career in the military because I had a nine-month-old daughter, and the army wanted me to go overseas for a year and leave her behind.

My marriage was on the rocks, and no matter what I said or did, my husband would not stop cheating. A mutual friend had informed me that on Sunday nights (the ones he called out with the boys) he was frequenting a strip club. I was working a full-time office job, going to business school five nights a week, raising my daughter, and transitioning from being in the military to being a civilian. Instead of getting off work and watching our daughter, my husband was running the streets. We had a joint bank account, but our bills were not getting paid. Also, we had no food and checks were bouncing. I had to go and see for myself that he was spending our money on a stripper.

I left our daughter with a trusted friend and drove to a club I was told he went to in Tacoma, Washington. I parked down the street, walked into the club, and told the bouncer I was looking for a job. He ushered me in to the manager's office and gave me an application. My plan was to ambush my husband as soon as he walked in the door.

After spending over two hours sitting at a table, watching the girls go on stage, milking the application, and picking the staff's brains about how things worked, my husband never showed up. However, I did learn a lot about the industry and the money that could be made. The dancers were nice and offered to lend me their shoes and costumes so I could audition that night, but I declined, promising to return the next day. They were wearing more clothes than some women do in night clubs, and after they explained how things work to me, things didn't sound so bad. I learned that these women were real people with feelings, who were dancing their way out of bad situations.

The plan to catch my husband in action failed, and after I went home that night, I vowed to never set foot in another strip club again; but I was wrong!

I went to work the next morning and could not stop thinking about what I had learned the night before. I hated my eight-to-five job and riding the bus for an hour each day to get there and back. I wanted to give my daughter a better life, but how? The rent was $500, the bus pass to and from work $45, and daycare was $400 every month. My $1,200 per month income didn't leave much left for utilities, a car, food, and other bills I had accrued. It was obvious my husband was not going to support me or our daughter after our separation, so I had to make a move.

Seattle and Tacoma had strip clubs all over the place, so it was only a matter of where I wanted to work in. I was into body building and looking hot at the age of twenty-six.

I had outgrown my husband's lies and cheating and was planning on asking him for a divorce. I knew I had to be careful—he was drinking a lot and getting violent—but the situation took care of itself when I came home two weeks later from church and he had moved all his stuff out. I was officially a civilian and a single mom. I had already started to feel a huge weight lifted off my shoulders, but it wasn't until three months later that I took the plunge into the world of dancing. The sleepless nights of waiting for him to come home and abuse me in the middle of the night were finally over.

Chapter 2

The Audition

On a Tuesday evening, I went to an adult store and purchased a black and blue lace thong and bra with black lace ankle socks. It was a little embarrassing for me because I had never been in any kind of sex shop.

After I got home, I called my girlfriend and told her I was going to try stripping (we had talked about stripping before). She knew I was struggling financially but did not like the idea. I explained that it was only for a couple of months until I started getting child support. She was working part-time on a sex hotline from home at the time, but since I had a two-year-old daughter, I would not be able to talk dirty on a phone in front of her. It really did not matter—I needed at least another $500 a month to make ends meet. My phone bill was late, and I had lost my cable TV!

After work on a Wednesday, I went to a newer club in the SeaTac area close to my apartment, with my costume and heels in a bag. I asked the door person if I could audition to be a dancer. He said, You must talk to the manager. So I sat down at a table while he went to get him and looked around.

The inside of the club was dark with burgundy couches along the walls, tables and chairs in the middle, with ashtrays and a lit candle on all of them, a very dark carpet, a grand piano, and two stages that were four feet above ground with silver poles that reached to the ceiling and mirrors on the back wall. Next to the front stage was the DJ booth and a small juice bar. Strip clubs in Seattle did not serve alcohol.

There was one lady who was standing on a couch over a customer, sitting with his hands on his lap, and she was making grinding motions in front of his face with her crotch. Another one was doing a very sexy dance at a table in front of another customer. There was also a naked lady dancing on the front stage and another on the backstage. I could not believe people did this kind of stuff!

After a few minutes, a manager came out to greet me and I followed him into his office. I explained that I wanted to dance and was ready for an audition. He asked me if I had danced before, and I lied and told him I danced in Germany. Truthfully, the only experience in dancing I have ever had was four years of ballet as a child, gymnastics, and dancing in night clubs. He explained the dress code to me, which was a minimal—a thong and a bra must be worn on the floor with high heels, hair and makeup must be presentable, and nudity was optional on the stage.

I had to pick out a stage name