NON-FICTION

‘SHE’S A REAL PERSON!’

by
Caucus de Bourbon

I CRIED. I just stood there and tried to hold my tears.” Billie grins wryly. “It got easier after that.”

Music loud and rhythmic. Crisp, moodful chords pounding slow and sultry, charging the air with electric alchemy, priming an audience pressed forward in their chairs. Men – tall men, short men, stout, solid-looking men; nervous men, men without beards and men wearing glasses; men in Oxford cloth and neatly knotted ties; unmemorable men and men with kind faces, all seated with drinks lacking liquor, their conversation sporadic, if at all. And their eyes – lucid, sober eyes that scan the room casually but always, inevitably, focus again on the performer six feet away.

Her name is Suzi. She is completely nude. Her fine skin glistens radiantly beneath Crayola-light enfilade that washes over her, casting soft shadows into the shifting deep and shallows of her body. She is in constant motion, a captivating stream of fluidity and grace which veils the intensity of her concentration. The music fades and the men applaud and whistle. A stage-break song plays and Suzi steps into her clothing. Around her, men offer paper money.

“Thank you,” Suzie chimes politely, collecting her tips. Though never touching them, she is careful to not once neglect thanking even a single admirer.

One man reaches out, stuffs a dollar bill in Suzie’s outstretched garter. He grabs her leg – hard. Suzi pulls away. “You’re not allowed to touch us!” she says, firm. “We’re here for your entertainment! You can’t touch us!”

“Gimme back my money then,” barks the man.

“You can’t have it.” Suzi pads off.

The day shift at Tops ‘n Tails doesn’t come early, ‘bout an hour shy of noon. That’s when the Kearny Mesa establishment opens its doors weekdays to provide the lunch crowd with eats, non-alcoholic drinks and totally nude, adult, live entertainment. Though open a year and a half, folks still wander in thinking it’s a tuxedo rental. And of the dancers inside?

“The biggest misconception is, people think we’re easily propositioned, and that we’re available to them for free.” Up-close, Suzi is just as pretty as on stage. She has freckles and a smile that should be smiled more often. About one point she is adamant: “We’re not.”

Billie agrees. “When I was dating, I never told guys that I was a dancer. They’d immediately conclude the wrong thing, assume certain things. I was raised in a strict Christian family. My dancing was my business.”

“For me, dancing isn’t only for the money,” Suzi adds. “It’s a fun way of expressing myself. It’s personal.”

Suzi has been dancing professionally now for seven months. Before that she worked at Pizza Hut. Billie had lost her job selling men’s sportswear in a Mission Valley department store. The week following the club’s opening, she applied for a Nude Entertainer’s License, a requisite for even auditioning in San Diego.

What, about dancing nude, appealed to the sandy-blonde, former mathematics major?

“Money,” she states without hesitation. “I saw an ad in Help Wanted. No experience necessary. That’s me!”

How much money? A single shift yields anywhere from $100 to $250 per entertainer.

THE ABSENCE OF ALCOHOL

A man of slight build with eyes that squint happily, he’s J.R. to all who know him, and he’s been in the adult entertainment business for 19 years. In addition to managing Tops ‘n Tails he founded the original, and is part owner of, Girls Night Out, another popular Kearny Mesa club featuring dinner shows and male strippers. According to J.R., strict vice laws, which prevent physical contact between customers and performers, and tightly regulate the attire girls can wear in “public” areas, complimented by serving only non-alcoholic beverages, make the club’s atmosphere equally as benevolent for dancers as customers.

“We have an amazing amount of regulars who come here specifically because they don’t drink.” J.R. motions to a dancer. “It’s not easy, what they do. Serving liquor means certain problems. You see my doorman?”

Beyond the stage I find the doorman. She’s shorter than me, which doesn’t make her tall, and fills her costume the way such costumes should be filled. She is a respected sound & light board technician for touring bands, and only works the club part time.

THE CROWD

According to Suzi, the audience alone plays a vital role in the response she’s able to evoke in them during her sets, and how well she performs. Whereas the daytime crowd remains an average of 45 minutes to an hour, nighttime patronage stretches from two to three hours. “Every once in a while you get some rude guy, but not as often as it could be.”

“What,” I ask, “do you think of the men sitting out there? Do you view them as being lechers, as being pathetic?”

“I don’t think they’re pathetic at all,” says Billie. “I’m grateful they’re appreciating my body. It’s fun. It makes me feel good.”

Suzi regards me seriously. “Most of the guys are really terrific. They’re really nice. They’re supposed to support us. It’s exciting.”

“How do you feel when you’re up there, on-stage?”

“Sort of free.”

“What’s humiliating is when you’re doing your routine and you’re putting your all into it, and there’s a bunch of guys talking, completely ignoring the show.” Billie scowls. “As if we’re not good enough for them.”

Table dancing, in which appropriately clad dancers are allowed to perform a more personal routine, for a single customer say, remains a favorite of Suzi’s.

“Some guys don’t even want me to dance! They’re feeling lonely. They really just want someone to talk to, so I just sit on the table steps and talk to them. It’s all very nice and it allows me to really see our audience.”

RELATIONS

With cohorts from work, Jason was one afternoon persuaded to come in for lunch. He saw Billie performing and stayed five months. It took that long before she would talk to him.

“He was bashful,” Billie laughs, nudging the young man in the ribs. “I finally started feeling sorry for him and let him call me.”

“Nobody believed me when I told them I got a date with her,” says Jason. “When they finally met her, they couldn’t believe she’s like she is. That she’s intelligent and funny. They couldn’t get over the fact she’s a real person!”

“Do you ever come watch her perform?”

Jason nods curtly. “Yes.”

“He prefers me to dance at home,” confesses Billie.

“Do you tip her?”

“He better!”

Jason blushes.

“Do you get jealous of her dancing here?”

“Sometimes.” Jason scrunches his brow, trying to accurately convey his feelings. “When I’m away from her, like at work, and I start thinking about her, I know that other men are looking at her – and I want to be looking at her too. It’s hard not to get a little jealous.”

THE FUTURE

There are approximately 18 dancers on the schedule spanning from 19 to 32 years of age. The majority are single. Many are in college. One recently left after landing an associated position in a large brokerage firm. As for Suzi and Billie, what does the future hold? Billie is engaged to be married. And Suzi?

“My body isn’t going to hold out forever!” she admits, rueful. “But I am very interested in criminal justice.”