At work, it was my turn, now, to be in the dressing room, changing costumes, and have some other girl come back there to tell me, "Stevie, one of your regulars just came in and is waiting for you!", to which, I could now honestly reply, "Which one?" Then, "Tell him I'll be right out." I may not be loved, I told myself, but being desirable and in demand is at least kind of fun--- as long as it pays in good tips, anyway. I had no use for male sentimentality toward me anymore. I had nothing, in my life, to show for that, except disappointment, disillusionment, and despair. I stopped wearing my heart on my sleeve and wore my tips in my garter. My naivete vanished much more quickly now, getting replaced by some savvy Street Smarts. I liked my Stevie self! She was a strong woman, who was sure of herself, and lived in the real world now rather than in Deborah's Disney-like daydreams. Stevie, was not going to be someone so loyal and loving that she ended up making herself a doormat to some guy who just took her for granted, in her faithfulness, and didn't cherish the depth of her love, which were traits that were very much at the forefront, of my Deborah self. Frankly, after all the heartbreak, it was just really nice to not give a damn for a change. Quality was so lacking in love that I settled for quantity in admirers. Now my mindset was like: Give me something, I need, now, for a change, or I will move on to someone who will. I wasn't on a sentimental journey anymore, with the male sex. I told myself I didn't need love, because it seemed hopeless by this point to keep expecting that to happen.
There were quite a few men that claimed to love me, during those years, and many, who said they wanted me. I even married two different club customers, both, of which, became abusive toward me in various ways, with the last one being the very worst of all to the point that I refer to him as a Son of Satan. When I had married each of them, God had told me not to; but I did anyway, because I fully believed that no one better would ever come along, for me, now. That this would be as good as it was ever going to get, for me, for the rest of my life. God loves us, so much, though, that His saying "No" to us, about people or things, is His trying to protect us from others, and sometimes, even from ourselves. When humans are in pain, especially from the heartache, of lovelessness, they can become very self-destructive, in ways. Including me. With both of these marriages, I knew that I was settling, for someone, and something, that my heart was not in. But I didn't realize, until I was working on the, several, blog posts about him, that the only man I have ever loved was my second husband, Jim. When I gave him my heart, it must have really been for forever, because it would seem that I've never really had it back in my own possession, to be able to give to anyone else, ever since then. Or, really, even before, I loved him! He was just THE ONE that MY heart TRULY loved. As for the last two (of my four) husbands, I plan to describe them in much greater detail, in later posts. There were other men I met in these clubs who were also a danger to me, though. Not just those I married from there.
At the Backdoor, there was a guy, that was a regular, of Kristal's. She was one of the dancer's that made most of her money outside the club, booking club customers, as her clients, for her own Call Girl gig, where she preferred to give them 'The Girlfriend Experience', as her form of prostitution. After years of her living this lifestyle, though, she wanted out. She wanted the real thing. To be one man's real girlfriend, and then wife; and she wanted to have kids before it got too late, for her, to do that. She, like all of us did, really, deep down, wanted to finally find love. She told me her knees were giving out on her, also, from all the strain on them due to the way that she danced. She had been a classy Call Girl, as far as that went. I knew some of Kristal's club customers who were also her Call Girl clients from them coming into the club and despite their illicit sex life from hiring her as a prostitute they were considered to be successful men in society, with good-paying careers. This regular customer, of hers, named Don, while he had a good job and seemed to be a nice, and stable, man, on the surface, turned out to be seriously, even, dangerously, mentally, and emotionally, unbalanced! Don was a construction supervisor. He was an average-looking, middle-aged, man. Nothing seemed ominous about him, at all, as he came in to the Backdoor Lounge fairly often wearing his jeans and muddy work boots, from the construction site he worked at, to sit with Kristal. As she began to exit the dancer scene, in Omaha, for a chance at a real life as Karen (her real name), somewhere far enough away that her reputation did not, and could not, precede her, and hopefully not follow her, her regulars at the Backdoor were just left hanging, since they came to see her, there. I noticed, that Don was coming into the bar and sitting at a table all by himself as he waited for her time after time, and eventually leaving in silence while looking quite lonely, when she never showed up, to join him. None of us other girls had ever approached him to sit with him because any dancer sitting with someone else's regulars was considered a bitch and was usually dealt with in some less-than-happy way, by the dancer these guys 'belonged to', even though the club management always maintained that all customers were theirs, and therefore, fair game, to whichever dancer could sell drinks for them, by sitting at that table; regardless of which dancer the guy usually sat with.
[I had sat with a dancer's regular, when I was brand new to working at the Bittersweet, without knowing that he was one, because he didn't tell me that he was actually waiting for her when I approached him! Usually, those guys, that are a dancer's regulars, will give you a heads up by saying, "Thanks, but I am waiting for so-and-so", so you know, to leave them alone; he's hers. After all, we were required to go up to guys that entered these clubs, to talk to them and try to get them to buy us drinks, for the business. Dancers were expected to sell our specified drink quota every shift, by these clubs. It was money that also paid our hourly wages, among other things. Being the new girl at the Bittersweet, then, I was just trying to do a good job, with what was required of me. When I approached this man, there, he had invited me to sit with him and didn't tell me he was actually waiting for the other dancer to come out of the dressing room, to join him. So, I had no idea, until I felt several, long, sharp, talon-like fingernails digging into my flesh and scratching me from my shoulder down my back stinging my skin as they drew blood, and I turned, and saw her standing there, furious at me for sitting with HER regular! It was just TABOO, to DO, between dancers, that were not bitches; leaving her to assume that this NEW girl, ME, was a BITCH, which she dealt with according to her misunderstanding of the scene. I immediately excused myself from the customer, leaving him to her, and went to wash wounds, wishing the guy had just told me instead of putting me in that position with my new co-worker.]
So, I continued to see Don come in to the Backdoor, time after time, sitting all alone, watching the dancers, take their turns, on stage; never saying a word, to any of us, or vice versa. When he asked the waitress bringing him his drinks, about Kristal, they would only tell him each time that she was out of town, right now. It got to the point, that I felt sorry for him, because he was being strung along, by the waitress, who didn't want to risk losing her tips, from him, by telling him, that Kristal was actually in an elaborate, extended, process of trying to start a whole new life somewhere else entirely, so she could leave this one behind her--- which included him. As this went on for awhile, I felt it just wasn't right, that he didn't know that Kristal wasn't planning on ever really coming back, if she could help it, so I went over to his table and asked if I could sit with him. He seemed so lonely! Without explaining anything, about where Kristal had gone, or what she was doing (since if she'd wanted HIM to KNOW, SHE would've told him), I let him know that she might not be coming back. I offered to keep him company, in there, but with the mutual understanding that I would only sit with him until, or unless, she returned. (I knew, that she was trying to start a whole new life, in another state, but it was too soon to know, even for her, if she would actually be able to pull that off or whether she would decide to return to work at the club in Omaha. She'd left her options open.) I explained that if/when she did come back that I would, of course, immediately defer, to her, sitting with him, again. He knew, that he was her regular so he hadn't even tried to sit with any of us all those times that she was gone, and he understood that out of respect for his and Kristal's longtime bond that I would not be willing to intrude on that if she were there. He was fine with that, he said, and grateful for someone to talk to, now. Alot of times, the guys that came in were trying to distract themselves from things in their real lives that were not going well for them. These clubs were like their fantasy escape, from whatever that was. I felt sorry for him. I learned two very important things about men, the hard way, while I was a dancer: NEVER involve yourself with a man, on ANY LEVEL, because you FEEL SORRY FOR HIM, whether that comes from pity or compassion for them. I promise you, you will have cause to REALLY REGRET that decision. You WILL only end up BEARING THE BRUNT, of their ISSUES, and DYSFUNCTION, if you do that! And DON'T allow any man into your personal life that you REALLY DON'T WANT THERE. It will NOT GO WELL for YOU.
One evening as Don and I were sitting and talking in the bar between my dance sets on stage, he asked me what I was doing on my day off, and, feeling comfortable with him, at that point, I mentioned that I was going shopping, the next day, to try to find and buy a cookie press. Then, Don offered to take me, to do that, and would not take no for an answer. That, was ANOTHER thing I learned, the HARD way: NEVER TO GIVE IN to men, when they attempt to OVERRIDE MY TRUE WISHES; ESPECIALLY about MY OWN LIFE! I really didn't WANT to spend my day off with a CLUB CUSTOMER. That felt like STILL BEING AT WORK, for me. I was required, to talk to men, at WORK, ALL the time, so, when I was OFF work, I wanted, and needed, a break from that. A man's expectations from us can put a real burden on us. We DO have OUR OWN NEEDS, to attend to, as women! Men are so often TAKERS, much more, than GIVERS, which can feel like their presence, in our lives, is SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF US! He had seemed 'normal', still, at THAT point; just really lonely. I was trying to be a friend to him, without leading him on at all. I wasn't trying to seduce him or anything like that at all. I was completely celibate almost all of the time, all those years that I was a dancer, believe it or not, and I was no longer looking for love, in my life. I was still, always, in love with Jim Carlin, from the time that we met at Keesler Air Force Base, only I was not CONSCIOUSLY aware of that, AT ALL, until I started processing my thoughts, and emotions, about my life, and, the people in it, by writing this blog. Even though, I was not aware of that, subconsciously it was affecting my decisions about, and feelings toward, other men, and holding me back from really getting deeply involved with them.
Because Don was absolutely insistent on taking me shopping, even though I really didn't want to do that, with him, I made the grave mistake, of letting him pick me up, where I lived. He had SEEMED like such a nice guy, that I felt safe with him; and at that point we had only talked, as friends, in the bar. He had never come on to me, at all. That day, of shopping, he also seemed very sane and like he just wanted to be helpful. He was kind of annoying though; like having a puppy, always at my heels, wanting my attention, when I, really, needed some 'me' time. I was shocked and scared though the very next day, when I opened my shades, and saw him sitting outside, in his car, instead of being at work, looking up at the windows, to try to see which one was mine! Realizing THIS man was NOW a BIG problem, for me, even for this reason alone, I quickly moved away from the window, before he could see me, got dressed, and went outside, to ask him what he was doing, there! Why wasn't he at work? He said he took the day off, and wanted to spend it with me. UH OH! I was getting REALLY SCARED, now, as well as PISSED OFF. I had made no such plans with this guy. First he had not respected my wishes, about our not going on the shopping trip together, on my day off, pressuring me into it, against my better instincts, and now he clearly wasn't respecting my boundaries, regarding my private life. I also had to work later that night, and I needed SOME time to MYSELF, because this club customer had taken up my whole day off, the day before this. Don, had gotten his foot in the door, of my PRIVATE LIFE, and, was NOW trying to RAM HIMSELF into it--- and I didn't WANT him there! I told him that I could not spend the day with him, and that he could see me in the CLUB, later.
I was REALLY starting to DREAD dealing with THIS guy, now. But, I HAD to go to WORK; and sure enough, he came in there, later that evening, with a card for me that, ironically, due to my analogy about him from our shopping trip, had a drawing of a lovesick puppy on it, in which he had written that HE LOVED ME! OMG! This guy was REALLY SCARING ME, now! He did not even really know ME! We had only talked together, in the club, except for the one, unfortunate, shopping trip. The two of us DID NOT HAVE a personal, or ROMANTIC relationship, together! I would have HAD A SAY, in that, and I would have made my part of that obvious, and clear, to him. Only IT DIDN'T EXIST BETWEEN US! We had never held hands, hugged, looked deeply into each other's eyes, dated, NOTHING, to either create, or indicate, a LOVE CONNECTION was developing, or existing, between us. When I pointed all that out, to him, thinking rationally that SURELY, he would ACKNOWLEDGE, this FACT, he literally started SCREAMING AT ME, in full-on ANGER, right in the club, in front of everybody! He was heard screaming at me even over the very loud music, by everyone in the bar, who turned to look at the over-the-top scene he was creating. I was frozen, in fear, from this guy! I got mad, then, because I was so scared by him. We had bouncers in these bars too. I told him, in NO UNCERTAIN TERMS, that I had only started sitting with him to TRY to be NICE, because I had felt bad for him, that Kristal had left town and not even told him that; and that I had NO INTENTION, OR DESIRE, to start ANY personal, or permanent, relationship with him outside of this bar! NOR DID I OWE HIM THAT! He got even angrier at me, for that. But, I alerted the bouncer to the situation and Don backed down and left. As far as I was concerned, I was well RID of him! We had not even been sitting together, at the club, all that long, before this happened, with him. I also had never flirted, with him, or come on to him, or led him on. I hadn't wanted him getting too attached to me, in case Kristal ended up changing her mind, about moving away, for good, and came back, to work at the club. I'd been very careful, with this guy, because of that. I had only tried to be nice to him!
A couple of years later, when I was working at The Twenties, I was sitting alone on a bar stool waiting for customers, to come in, for us to have to start dancing for. Whenever, there weren't, any, which wasn't often, we either gave our high-heeled feet a much-appreciated break, or we would get up on stage and practice some new moves so that we could hopefully perfect those enough, to add to our routines, in the hope that they would get us more tips! On this particular day, the club was just opening, so it was now just after 4 o'clock in the afternoon as we began a shift which would go until 1 AM. The bouncer was nowhere in sight, at the time, because we didn't have any customers yet, for him to need to keep an eye on. Suddenly, the door opened very quickly, and in walked Don, the club customer from the Backdoor Lounge. I had not seen or spoken with him, since I told him to stay away from me, years before. He had really shaken me up back then because we had really only interacted with one another on a fairly superficial level, and for a relatively short amount of time, before he had tried to stake some, crazy, claim on some very personal, romantic, relationship, with me, that was NEVER THERE, BETWEEN US! I had only been friendly and kind, toward this man. I hadn't come on to him, or led him on, or ever hugged, kissed, or done anything sexual, at all, to give him any reason or right to have that impression, in his, definitely deluded, mind. That had been bizarre, back then! But, it was ABOUT to get EVEN MORE SO, as he spotted where I was sitting, and walked right up to me.
He very well may have known that I worked there, at The Twenties, now, before he even came in to the club, that day, because there was a large, full-color, photo, of me on stage, along with the photos of some of the other dancers, under protective glass, on both sides of the entrance, as enticements, to draw customers in, to this nightclub; presented for all to see, right out in the open under the banner of 'LIVE ENTERTAINMENT'. There was also a gossip grapevine going between all the Go Go bars in the area, because dancers would quit or be fired from one club, and go to work at another club, and word would get back to former co-workers and customers, where they had gone. Either way, as soon as Don entered the Showgirl room, where I danced at The Twenties, he had looked right at ME. His jaw was set, and his eyes were filled with fury. Then, without hesitation, he walked up to me, knocked me right off of my bar stool, with a very scornful shove, and pushed me, against the wall, pinning me, there, with his hands around my throat. As he started to choke me he was looking right into my terrified eyes, spitting his words at me, through his unbridled, out of control, RAGE! Through a tightly clenched jaw he growled at me, "YOU! RUINED! MY! LIFE! I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU, and YOU REJECTED ME! I WENT INTO A MENTAL HOSPITAL-- FOR SIX MONTHS!-- AFTER THAT! I LOST MY JOB, OVER IT, TOO! YOU. DID THAT. TO ME!" I couldn't speak from fearing for my life as I felt his hands tightening around my neck. I could only look at him helplessly as he started to squeeze my throat with his hostile hands. Knowing that I couldn't have caused all that, didn't help, now.
One of the other dancers had gone to find the bouncer, as soon as she saw Don start shoving me around, so violently, and when he got back there, Don let go of me, and left, after sneering at me, contemptuously, "You're NOT EVEN WORTH IT!" His hand marks stayed, on my neck, that shift, becoming bruising. I was extremely shaken up, by all of it! He was banned, from the bar, for that, but I knew, he could always wait outside, in the dark of night, for when I came out of the club at closing time. I was very concerned that he was so out of touch with reality, as he was! So volatile! And, so emotionally unstable! Now that this physical attack, on me, from him, had come out-of-the-blue, after I hadn't even seen him anywhere around for a couple of years, at that point, I wasn't sure what else he was capable of doing to me. He had behaved in a very irrational manner, toward me, ever since his 'declaration of love', two years earlier, followed by his angry outburst, at me, back then, when I had rebuffed him, for it, which had also been very unsettling. Because he had built up some fantasy relationship with me, in his obviously deeply troubled mind, he was carrying an enormous grudge, against me; apparently for YEARS now! I hadn't allowed him to force his fantasy into my reality, and he didn't seem to comprehend, at all, that I had any choice or say in the matter. Even when men do not react this extremely to a woman's rejection of their intentions, toward them, many men feel entitled to have whatever it is they want, with women! They see us as being on this Earth merely as objects, often of their desire, that are therefore supposed to yield ourselves, to their whims, and wishes, rather than be free to express ourselves, as the, fully human, beings that we actually are, with minds and hearts of our own, to make choices and decisions, about our lives, independently of whatever these men may want, with us, or from us. That mindset, is the same one that is behind acts of pedophilia, rape, domestic violence, murder, and, all, of the other forms, of abuse, of females!
Luckily, I had moved, to another apartment building, in the years since I had last encountered Don's wrath toward me, at the Backdoor Lounge. So, unless he followed me home after work, at The Twenties, he would not know where I lived now. I was very jumpy for quite awhile after this incident with him. This man was CLEARLY MENTALLY UNSTABLE, and had ATTACHED HIS VOLATILE AND VICIOUS EMOTIONS to ME, making me a Scapegoat to blame for all of his unhappiness in life, which actually had little of anything, at all, to do with me! I was SURE that he hadn't even known me long enough or well enough, for ME to TRULY be the cause of THAT MUCH RAGE AND ANGUISH. He had to have made, some sort of, TRANSFERENCE, onto me; making me his sex-object-scapegoat, for whatever he felt was wrong in his life. That Scapegoat Syndrome* had also happened to me with my own family starting when I was very young, and continuing into my adult life. It would happen to me again with my last husband, a club customer from the Backdoor Lounge, who then began to treat me this way that Don was: First, transference, and then, abuse; making me suffer, as their Scapegoat, for how this world, and their lives, had let them down, or failed them, in some way, with no thought or care, about how unfair, that was, to do, to me, and how frightening, their physical rage, aimed at me, was. Dancers in these clubs have even turned up dead, after being killed, by such men as these.**
I was also at risk of harm, or worse, from the Kansas City mafia***. Twice, even; in my dancer career! Along with my best friend, Neil; the first time, it happened. Neil was the sound guy, for one of the local bands, that was sometimes booked to perform, in the large main room of The Twenties nightclub, where I was dancing, on stage, in the back, in the, smaller, more intimate, feeling, Showgirl room. That was how that nightclub was set up at the time. I remember trying to tell my mother, on a phone call, that Neil and I could, very possibly, end up dead. Be found floating in the Missouri River at the hands of the mafia. Because, at the time it seemed a very real possibility. But, she just dismissed it, like she always did, with, virtually, everything else, I tried, to talk to her about, regarding my life. My narcissistic mother would, typically, do one, of two, things, whenever (against my better instincts, since I well knew how she was toward me) I would continue trying to have an interactive relationship, with her, in spite of it all. She would either discredit me, or dismiss whatever it was, I was saying to her, as being of no concern, to her, for her to even try to hear me out, or show any care, concern, or compassion, toward me. The mafia involvement, during my dancer career, was luckily short-lived, though; and actually, they handled it really well, the FIRST time. Even kind of classy, considering how it could have gone otherwise. I both appreciated, and respected, that, coming from them. Their showing up in my life was actually related to another assault, on me, that also happened at The Twenties.
Dancers always say things, about other dancers, to other dancers. Especially, if the dancer is getting on their nerves for some reason, on any particular night. Usually, back in the dressing room, when a couple to a few of the girls would end up there at the same time, at some point during the evening. For some reason, which I have never been able to understand, about my life, though, co-workers of mine and others I've known have always held me, individually, to a higher standard than they even hold themselves; and have caused trouble for me, if I 'slip off' that imposed 'paragon of virtue' pedestal which they perched me up on, even ONCE, and say or do anything less than they expect of me. In fact, whenever I fail, to maintain that lofty pose, either accidentally or on purpose, because I'm human just like they are, the retribution toward me--- comparatively speaking--- is usually TWICE as SEVERE for my behaving only HALF as wrongly as THEY typically would, or do, behave THEMSELVES. These same people, that DO THIS, TO ME, know damn well that they don't live up to anything CLOSE to that standard that THEY have set for ME. That doesn't stop them, from doing it, though, which I have both really noticed, and deeply resented, in my life. So, one night, I came in the dressing room and ALL I said, was that I wish the new girl, Pam, would pay some attention to the ACTUAL BEAT of the songs, she was dancing to, so her MOVEMENTS, on stage, would at least line up, with THAT. I admit, I felt resentful, toward her, because management had put me, personally, and directly, in charge of taking her under my wing, so to speak, and teaching her the business, when they hired her. So now, her progress or lack of it reflected on me in that way. But she was just very inept, as a dancer. Also, she did something, when she was off stage, that put all of our jobs in jeopardy, which had become maddening, to me, too; because, no matter what I said, about it, she continually allowed customers to touch her, when she was sitting at the tables, with them, in ways that could have gotten the liquor license pulled by the liquor commission and our club closed down by the cops and then the city, which would cost all of us our jobs and our money we made there. Still, despite how stressed Pam caused me to feel, about her presence there, the comment I made about her lack of rhythm was ALL that I said, though. All in all, it was the most innocuous observation ANY dancer had EVER been overheard to say about ANOTHER.
Even so, one of the dancers, that was in the dressing room, at the time, in this group of about four of us, Erin, who was also kind of the prankster, and, generally, the jerk, in this group, just couldn't wait to run tell Pam that Stevie said that about her. Whatever she told Pam about it--- which may, or may not, have been exaggerated, or even lied about, by her--- caused the girl's feelings to be hurt, so deeply, apparently, that she went to Faith, the bartender, in tears, about it; then actually left work, for the rest of the shift. No other dancer had ever done that before in similar circumstances. >sigh!< It was what it was, now. Faith, happened to be one of Mickey's original club dancers at 'Mickey's', his first Go Go bar, in downtown Omaha (which was where my husband Jim had taken me on one of our nights out several years earlier when I was very pregnant, with our son, Jay. I recalled seeing Faith dancing there, after I met her, later, at The Twenties, only I didn't actually know her, back when she danced). When she felt that she had aged out of dancing, she had started bartending for Mickey, instead (after he closed Mickey's downtown; although he still had the Razzle Dazzle in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and The Twenties, in Omaha). She still wasn't old, by any means, though. Faith was a well-built, and fairly pretty, woman. She was also, widely known, as being, "Mickey's girl". His favorite, who 'had his ear', and, most likely, at least one or two more of his body parts, than that, according to the gossip.
Faith was no saint, herself, to be sure. I hesitate to diverge too deeply, here, into any detailed description, of her, because the thing that I am trying to explain right now is how it came to be that I got onto the radar, of actual mafia members, who came after me, for a short time, which was extremely anxiety-producing for both me and Neil, who was only included because of his 'guilt by association', by the mafia, simply because HE was MY BEST FRIEND, back then. To give you some idea, of who Faith was, as a person, though, so you can see better, who I was dealing with in this situation, that developed between the two of us (over Pam, that Erin set in motion) I will give you one example of how Faith's mind computed decisions that she made--- one of which I became a victim of; in this instance I am telling you about, regarding the mafia: Faith had gotten pregnant by one of the men she slept with, and didn't want the baby. So, her solution to this problem was to keep snorting so much Cocaine, that she would cause herself to miscarry the baby, which is exactly what happened. She told me this herself; very casually, and without compunction. Before I ever even knew she had been pregnant, though, I used to see her, and her co-bartender, on the busy weekend nights, divide the Cocaine into two lines, right out in the open, on the back counter of the bar, and bend over and quickly snort that into their nostrils. I even saw Denny, Mickey's manager at The Twenties, do a line with them once. One night, he was screaming, at them, after the club closed, accusing them both, of being so high, that they were barely functioning in their bartending duties. I recall wondering, as I went, from the ladies room, to the dressing room, to get dressed to go home, that night, and walked past them, while they all three slurred and snarled at one another, behind the bar, why people describe doing drugs as getting a great high that feels really good, to them, when these three, who did drugs, all, sounded so angry, and unhappy, while under the influence, of the Cocaine.
So, this same Faith, had now turned on me, because of that one comment I had made, in the dressing room, about Pam's lack of rhythm, when she danced; which Erin repeated. Because Pam got her feelings hurt, and cried, when Erin told her whatever she told her, that I had said, about moving her body to the actual beat of the songs she danced to, on stage, Faith had put me into the BITCH category now (even though she was one herself) which in her mind meant that some kind of repercussions needed to be dealt out to me according to the 'Street Justice' mentality, that bar folks often adhered to, due to their skewed moral sensibilities. Out of all the dancer comments I EVER heard MADE about one dancer by another dancer, that was on the negative, critical, side, my comment was MUCH GENTLER than ANY or ALL, of those others! There wasn't even any NAME CALLING in it. Still, the new girl, Pam, had cried to Faith about it, and then left work early that night, with most of the shift still to go, in a pity party pout about it. So, now, Faith was determined to deal with me, on Pam's behalf. Near the end of the night, during the last song, I decided to go to the ladies room. I recall, that I didn't really have to pee, that badly, but for some reason, I just decided to still go ahead and do it. I felt vaguely uneasy, simply from knowing Faith was not speaking to me anymore, when we had always conversed together, prior to this, current, situation regarding Pam. I couldn't get a feel for whatever it was that was coming, from that, although I sensed that something surely was. I had seen how this stuff went down, in these bars. Pam wasn't there, to settle it with, and I didn't really think I had done anything really wrong. I had made one accurate observation about Pam's complete lack of rhythm. It wasn't even a criticism as much as it was just an honest observation that anyone in the Showgirl room of The Twenties might well have made, about her. Yes, I said it, out loud, to other girls, in the dressing room. Just like other comments had been made about every one of us, in there, at times. But MINE, about Pam, was as TAME, a comment, as any dancer had ever made, about another, including what was said to, and about, me, when I was the new girl and learning the ropes at the Razzle. I had also spent several weeks, by that point, personally doing everything, that I could, to help Pam learn and adjust to the business, because Mickey's mother, Angie, had tasked me with that direct responsibility when Pam was hired. No one else. Just ME. Now, ONE statement, about her lack of beat-keeping movements, on stage, and ALL that was, completely, ignored by her, and Faith. I was some BITCH, now, to be dealt with for it.
The ladies room in the Showgirl was right off the room where the stage was. It was very small, and only had one toilet and sink, so we tended not to lock the door, because other girls, many of whom were drunk, would just start pounding on it trying to get in, even though they couldn't even use the toilet while someone else was still sitting on it. They would, usually, just stand by the sink, and chat about how the night was going. I had just gone in, and was starting to cover the toilet seat with paper, to prepare to sit on it, when I heard the door open behind me. I said, "You can go first if you have to go badly!", to whoever it was, that had just come in there, right after I did, but there was no answer from them, so I turned and looked behind me, to see who it was. It was Faith. We had always gotten along before this incident with Pam and I had been blown up into something way out of proportion, by Erin, who was always the one that seemed friendly enough to your face, but in reality was often just looking for some way to start trouble, just because, she was bored, and drama really amused her. Because Pam had cried, about it, Faith had made it clear, that she was mad at me, for that, although I had hoped she would get past it because what I had said was critique, more than criticism. But she didn't. She'd walked in to the ladies room right behind me, after she had apparently been watching and waiting, for this moment with me, when she could come out, from behind the bar, and confront me one on one. We were all alone in this room, just the two of us, with the extremely loud music booming just outside the door. The door, that she was blocking, now, when she grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head down toward the toilet first. I managed to 'keep my head above water', as they say, so she then tried to hit my head against the wall. All I could think of was, DO NOT FIGHT BACK! DO NOT HIT HER, OR LEAVE A MARK, ON HER! PRAY THAT SHE DOESN'T CUT, OR BRUISE, HER HAND, AS SHE BEATS THE CRAP OUT, OF YOU, BECAUSE THIS HAS NO WITNESSES! SHE, COULD SAY THAT YOU, STARTED IT, WITH HER! THIS--- IS-- MICKEY'S--- GIRL!!! DO NOT TOUCH HER, AT ALL, IN FEAR OF YOUR LIFE! So, as she then began punching me in the gut, I still did not do one thing, to fight back. I didn't even cry. I just took the beating, from her, as best I could, knowing that, because, it was Faith, and I also worked for Mickey, I really had no choice. Dancers, got into 'slap downs', with one another, at times, in these clubs, and there were even some physical attacks on one another, every once in a while, especially where egos, drinking, and drugs were involved, but it was almost always at least a fair fight, where they both, threw their punches, and had their say, and that was that. But, THIS, was NOT THAT! THIS was FAITH--- 'MICKEY'S GIRL'! So I DARE NOT touch her!
It had long been rumored, that Mickey not only had mob connections, but that he had actually murdered his own wife to get himself free of his marital relationship and responsibilities, when he stopped coaching, kids' sports, and got into the Go Go bar business. I had even heard that he had promised his son alot of money, to take the fall, for the murder of his mother, and go to prison, in his father's place. How much of that was TRUE, of those whispers that I had always heard, about Mickey, I had NO IDEA. But, I wasn't going to risk harming 'Mickey's Girl' in ANY way, especially because of those rumors, and because I worked for him, too. So, I stood, and took it, as Faith beat the crap out of me, in the ladies room, that night, until I finally sank to the floor, so beaten up by her that I thought I would pass out, from the pain. Once I went down, to the floor, she started kicking me, with her sharp, pointy, high-heeled shoes. Again, and, again, and, again. She kicked me in the abdomen, and finally, in the teeth. After saying to me, with a self-satisfied sneer, "That is for PAM", she left me, lying on the bathroom floor, and went back out. Struggling to get onto my knees, I weakly pushed the ladies room door open, and the first face I saw was Erin's, who had caused the situation, and this beating by Faith, that I just took, by running to tell Pam, what I'd said, about her needing to try to focus on the beat of the song, when she danced--- or perhaps, even something, way worse, sounding, that she embellished, for effect--- making Pam cry, which made Faith come after me. As our eyes met, Erin saw me kneeling, on the floor, with blood coming from my nose, and mouth, and barely the strength in me to push open the door, as I said, weakly, to her, "Help me!", but she just stayed where she was, sitting at a table, with a smug smile on her face when she saw me. She might have even chosen that spot to sit in to have a ringside seat, to what Faith went into the ladies room to do to me. Even so, believe it or not, Erin was never an enemy to me, personally, in any way. She just didn't give a damn, about anyone else, and she loved to stir up drama, any time, any way, and with anyone, that she could; just to watch the crap that unfolded, from that, and know that she had instigated it all. She genuinely enjoyed doing that! It made her day. Some people, are like that. I have NO idea WHY; what makes them like that. Perhaps Erin was a narcissist. God knows, I seem to get victimized by those, in my life. The bottom line though, with her, was that SHE JUST LIKED TO START TROUBLE. Whether that was from her own insecurities, or from her just being a bitch, or whatever, I can't say, for sure. She just did that. Whenever she could. She once tried to pull a long wig, I wore one night, right off my head just before I was going up on stage to dance, as she sat at a nearby table with some guy, behind where I was standing. I heard her say, to him, "Watch this!", and then I felt a hard tug, on my wig. Luckily, I had pinned it securely to my hair so that it didn't budge. Erin was simply an opportunistic JERK. If she saw a chance to trip someone, ANYONE, just to cause them to fall, she was that kind of person, for whatever reason. And now, because of that, I was left to slowly struggle, to pull myself up from off the floor; badly beaten, and bloody, and she was thrilled, she had created this much drama.
[NOTE: This, August, post is Part One of a Two Part post that I have written for this blog on this specific subject matter, about the dangers of being a dancer. This post is twenty paragraphs long, and I have an equal number of paragraphs for the post next month, in September, in order to fully finish covering this one particular aspect of my dancer experience. By no means have I--- even yet, after several posts, now--- covered all there is for me to say and share, here, about those years that I worked in the nightclubs, and how that career affected my life! Therefore, I will continue on with this, in the next post. Thank you, for taking this journey, with me, through my life and all its memorable experiences. I am glad you are here with me! Please feel free to Comment under any posts that you may wish to. I would love to know your thoughts, or about some of your experiences, that may be similar, or even different. I have readers in 33 countries now, and as I see you are reading what I have written about my life, here in my blog, I often wonder what your lives have been like. Especially, during this worldwide pandemic that is affecting all of us on this Earth. God bless you! - Love, Deb]
* Scapegoating is the practice of singling out a person or group for unmerited blame and consequent negative treatment.
** This is just one example, from many, sadly, of what I am referring to: "Lakewood man charged with killing strip club dancer found dead in motel bathroom - Investigators first considered Hector’s death suspicious, but an initial autopsy couldn’t determine the cause of her death. The medical examiner found faint abrasions on her neck, but couldn’t confirm if she had been strangled. There were no signs of a struggle and Hector was found naked, according to the autopsy report. Later tests confirm that she had been strangled." https://www.denverpost.com/2019/04/24/lakewood-homicide-strip-club/
*** Kansas City Crime Family:
Founding location Kansas City, Missouri, United States
Years active 1912–present
Territory Kansas City metropolitan area and the entire states of Missouri, and Nebraska, as well as Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Oklahoma and Washington, D.C.
The Kansas City mob still has some gambling and loansharking with some extortion involving drugs and the strip club industry' https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kansas_City_crime_family
