Life Of A Stripper - Chapter I

by Lucas Castillo

December 5th, 2018

It honestly started out as a joke. I used to tell new friends or even new girlfriends that I 'used' to be a stripper.

Before, I never really believed that this joke would eventually become my reality.

Dancing, stripping, entertaining - whatever you want to call it - for me, provided me not just better social skills, but gave myself more confidence in myself. It certainly brought it's fine line of lessons that I will ever forget.

Meet the guys.

From left, DK, Sean, Chase, bar owner, Onyx, Nicholas & myself.

I must say. Running around with these guys chasing money and managing drunk women really was not as simple one might think it would be. Yet, the guys and I always had a blast. We took on several adventures and roared through shows on the road together. I will never forget the times I shared with these gentlemen. We learned a lot from each other.

So how did this start?

I believe it was just before the new year, in December of 2017. I was sitting at my desk depressed. Very depressed. I was selling cars at an Audi dealership. It was fun for the moment but career-wise, I typically tend to get bored as more time goes by in any job setting.

So I thought to do something drastic. I began job hunting at my own desk. I went back to that wild thought. "Why not be a stripper? Why not actually give this a try?"

I googled local male stripping companies in the DMV area at my desk. I clicked on the first company I found, 'Men In Motion." I submitted my application with some photos in a matter of minutes. I didn't hesitate. It really was one of those 'fuck it' moments.

My anxiety was through the roof. Did I just fucking do that?

I did.

I always felt like there was no way that I could ever do something like that. In that moment I felt like I was just being hopeful and spontaneous and maybe I will get a call.

Let's fast forward four weeks after this 'stripper seed' was planted.

Four weeks later my grandmother was admitted to a hospital under emergency circumstances. Things got scary for our family rather quickly.

This was a tough week. It was a series of 'awakening' moments as I watched my grandmother struggle to breath. I stayed with her all week long.

Finally, with grace, I watched her come back to life it seemed. She just had so much fight in her that she was able to stabilize her oxygen levels enough to return home.

We almost lost her but thanks to an amazing hospital and their amazing staff, we were able to have more time with her. For that, I am forever grateful.

During this week, my sister urged me to get my grandmother to tell me of her journey to the United States from Colombia as she was able to get the scoop before I did. How did I not know this story word for word?

I have to say, the story is quite powerful. For me, this changed everything. I had never thought to ask just how or why it happened. Why did they leave Colombia? What did they go through to get here in the US?

It took my grandparents 10 years to make it to the United States. It required significant sacrifices and several losses to create what they have for myself and the rest of our family today. Opportunity is what we have. Opportunity that they both never had when they were in the hard streets of Bogota, Colombia.

Once we were able to bring my grandmother home, I was able to return home myself to resume life. Only, I didn't want to continue doing what I was doing. I was feeling a little more inspired. More ambitious. After learning how and why my grandparents came to America, I knew I had to do something different.

That night, ironically, I got a phone call.

It was a man from that entertainment company I applied to now 5 weeks ago.

This timing was a blessing.

It was an invited to what was basically orientation the following night. I couldn't say no.

I walked into my bosses office the following morning and told him that I would not be returning. I packed up my desk and left.

So, orientation night. The first night, oh god the first night is a time I will never forget.

I never truly realized just how shy I was until this night. I also never realized just how aggressive women could be too. Yes, aggressive. Holy shit, like you wouldn't believe.

I was 'the new guy' and the new guys always get attention. So I did my best to just 'hang out' and watch.

The bullshit of an 'orientation' is really about seeing if 'dancing' is for you. I was only planning to observe the business aspects and to see how these guys make their money. Coming from a sales background, I knew this was important. I knew the work dynamics would make it fun of course, but I had to try to keep my composure, right? Money is money.

All of the guys have to work together. Each guy can choose the jobs they want but ideally, everyone has to work together in order to make more cash. It's an interesting business structure.

I asked how I could help the first night. I had to dive in and just show myself that I could jump right in. So I started selling bands for photos. Then eventually of course, I was told I could remove my shirt if I wanted to.

So I gave it a spin.

What came next was one of the most overwhelming things that has ever happened to me. I found myself in the middle of about 20 or so women fighting. Literally fighting over who was going to get a dance FROM ME. What?

Imagine 20 drunk girlfriends fighting over the last chicken nugget.

I was honestly fucking terrified if you want me to be real. It was way worse than the image you see here.

After some help from the guys,I had to exit the building for a moment because I came to this realization that women really are no different from men when it comes to our sexual desires. In fact, I think it's a bit worse. I find their energy to be significantly more intense. (Laughing as I am typing.)

After cooling it for a moment, I went back in and took on the crowd again. This realization wasn't going to stop me. So I hit the floor and started offering lap dances.

Sean, our 'ring leader' and boss made sure I got an actual full taste on the first night by throwing me up on stage for one song.

What the fuck? Why? My anxiety was already through the roof.

I had no choice. No choice at all.

Remember that scene from Magic Mike when Adam (the new guy) goes on stage his first time? Yeah. that was me.

It was a dark room with a narrow stage surrounded by our VIP guests.

It happened so fast. My pants were ripped off so fast and before you knew it, I was dry humping a woman on stage and dollar bills were flying.

What the fuck just happened?

This first show I maybe only really 'worked' one hour and made nearly $150.

I was in.

What I didn't know was I had just joined a traveling entertainment company. So instead of dancing at one primary location, we danced at several other locations as well. Bars, music halls, recreational centers, you name it. We danced everywhere. I had just became a traveling stripper.

So what happened next?

You see I have always been a sucker for love. During those first few weeks of dancing and climbing into this new 'pirate-like' lifestyle, I grew unsure of how far I would actually be taking this stripping thing.

I have always had high aspirations for my love life. I knew going in this, that stripping and dating usually don't go hand in hand. Yet, I also knew that I was on this new adventure of loving myself more and not giving a single fuck about what anyone else thought. You know, Channing Tatum style.

I felt like it was worth taking the risk.

One night down in Manassas, VA, I found myself in a hotel room with about 8-9 women enjoying more adult-like conversations. Topics of family, love life, and all that other sappy shit girls like to talk about.

I wasn't in my room because, well, it was being used for 'play' for some of the other dancers. That had never been my style when it came to adult play. I was always told not to mix work and play anyways. It's bad for business. When I heard that, it just seemed like common sense.

Obviously this only made the group of dancers I worked with assume that I was a homosexual because I wasn't sleeping around with any of the women that I was hanging out with. Feeling attacked in that regard really pissed me off.

This began to mess with my way of thinking about this new stripping gig. So I started thinking.

I was already feeling lonely from the social separation and judgment for being a stripper. But now my co-workers thought that I was gay because I chose to sleep with women in other fashions, respectfully.

I am not the only stripper that has ever felt this way.

Though, male dancers are constantly being accused of being gay because well, they embrace more of their femininity - by looking good.

This is something that is over thought in my opinion. Men that are more in touch with their feminine side, are most likely more in touch emotionally. It doesn't make them gay. It doesn't make a man gay if he wants to look good and enjoys making the effort.

It just never dawned on me that when you do become a male stripper, you are officially just a piece of meat. No one wants you emotionally because well, strippers are stereotypically known to be 'trash' human beings even though we are the ones being sexualized and abused. (el oh el) Even when you have your standards and morals in check, you, can even be accused of being gay when you don't 'put-out.'

Crazy right?

So after this wild revelation of mine, I quit and got back together with an ex-girlfriend. I quit when my dancing career had just begun. Very soon after, we got engaged.

Yeah. That happened fast.

I gave serving a try with intentions of becoming a bartending and well, that only lasted about 11 days. I couldn't dish it. BOOM *pun. It was just something else I was not enjoying. I was at a weird fork in the road. Had I really thrown in the towel? Was this the right decision?

I ended up back in the car business selling cars but this time at a different luxury dealership, selling BMW's. I also ended up moving in with my grandparents. I was grateful because now I could see my grandmother every day. I could help out too, when they would let me.

B, my abuela, enjoyed cooking so much. I was able to catch her sneaking into the kitchen helping prepare meals often. Even though she wasn't supposed to.

Sadly, I was never home. I was usually out of the door before she woke, and back in when she was asleep.

Over the next couple of months I was back to brutal the hours and slaving away to try to make something of myself. I subconsciously ran right back into a world that I was trying to get the fuck away from. I forgot about me. I forgot about what I was trying to do for me.

So needless to say, none of it worked out. None of it did. I got angry with myself. I forgot about my dreams and not knowing and always wondering where dancing might have taken me. I was getting so far away from my own dreams that I became unhappy, and neither was my fiancé.

After some difficulties and disagreements, I broke off my engagement.

I worked for just a few more weeks until I finally said fuck it.

I went back to dancing.

I was now on a new mission. I was ready to begin serving myself to the fullest. Not letting anyone or anything stop me from living the way I wanted. No matter who thought I was gay or who was trying to put me down.

This is where the fun really began.

Continue reading onto Chapter II.

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