It’s actually kind of amazing how much crap I can put up with for money. My tolerance for dysfunction and bullshit is ridiculously high. It’s not just me—all dancers and sex workers are exposed to unique situations, which tend to come with a side of pain-in-the-ass. Strip clubs are circuses, brothels, and wellness centers rolled into one. Men are paying to live out their fantasies. They take and take and it’s our job to give. The giving sometimes gets taken advantage of. But since I’m really only here to make money, you know that when I tell a customer I’m done with him and will never sit with him again, the situation is dire. I doubt any well-adjusted woman could imagine putting up with some of the shit we do on a nightly basis. What makes me so special? Was it the coke-riddled childhood? Was I born like this? Both?