How we got here

Ever hear an album and realize it was the soundtrack to a particular time in your life? Res’ “How I do” and Christina Milians’ “It’s About Time” were constantly blaring in my headphones trying to help drown out the noise of the voices that were consistently LOUD in my head. 

-I graduated from college in debt with a degree I was pretty sure I was never going to use

-Multiple personal and intimate relationships ended in strife

-A dear friend from childhood was killed (Still processing it to this day)

-A job I loved to my core, no longer wanted me to be a part of their team

It felt like the very ground beneath my feet crumbling… slowly. And eventually, it disappeared. I felt hollow inside. Just a shell walking and talking. Nothing of substance behind any of it. A wave, a smile, small talk, laughter, all empty. 

I would listen to Res when I was traveling aimlessly through the city. I went to the pier at Christopher Street a lot, to sit in the sun and people watch, hoping someone would talk to me, but also hoping they wouldn’t. Smoking cigarette after cigarette. Oh how I loved a good Parliament or Marlboro Light. Mmmmmmmmm

Then came the moment. I needed to make quick money, to get a car, to get to a possible job that was a 40 min drive away. “How can I make quick money,” I thought. (Light Bulb) Stripper, duh! It would just be temporarily ‘til I made enough to buy a car and then I’d move on. I mean I was already in a dark place. Why not?!?!  

Here’s the kicker

I could barely get myself to go in and audition! I mean literally, I would spend about 45 mins outside pacing the block, smoking cigarettes and listening to - well, that’s where Christina Milian’s album comes in. Somehow listening to that album got me feeling a certain way. Like sexy and sensual. Or maybe fierce and feisty. Whatever it was, it eventually worked and I would walk through the doors and ask if they were hiring. Many clubs I went to (well, actually, it was only 3. But it felt like 100!) it was the same M.O.

“What’s your name?”

“Are you 18 and over?”

“Take your clothes off. Except for your G-string. Stand over there. Let me look at you.”

Some places wanted to take a picture of you so they could show it to the club’s owner first to make sure you fit the look of the women he wanted in his club. 

And if you didn’t fit the look, they would ask were you willing to get work done. Which usually meant breasts implants and/or hair extensions. 

Hair extensions? Yes! 

Breast implants? Uuhhhh..

I wish, but I’m too scared to go under the knife!

And you know, they never gave you that picture back. So unfortunately there are a few photos of me topless in a g-string somewhere out there in the world. If they surface when I’m famous, just remember you heard it here first. I have nothing to hide, let's not make it a scandal.

Then came the day I auditioned at the 3rd club, Islands. I made it past the “What do you look like in a g-string” part. Now it was time for dancing. She asked what kind of music I wanted to dance to. I said R&B. She said I only had to dance/strip for 1 song. It was a weekday afternoon and there were all of 5 people in there, including her. I performed my best “Video Vixen dancing with a pole” routine. No tricks. I didn’t even know how to attempt one (that eventually changed.) I gazed at the floor, afraid to make eye contact with any of the 4 gentlemen in there. Occasionally I made eye contact with the woman I was auditioning for. But I held on to that pole for dear life, afraid that if I let go, the reality of what I was doing would sink in. Finally! The song ended. As we made our way back down some very steep steps to the offices and changing room, which had a strong smell of cigarettes, victoria secret body spray, liquor, and skin, she said, “You’re hired!”

Placing a huge white binder on the table and flipping through the pages she said, “what do you want your stage name to be?” She slid the book over so I could flip through. There had to be over 100 pages in there with names like Star, Candy and Dream. But I already knew the name I wanted. I had just finished reading this book, a New York Times Best Seller, with this character. Something about her I like so…

“Lexi.”

“Great! Well Lexi you start tomorrow. And it’s up to you if you want to go full nude or not. There’s no enforced rule about it.”

“Nude? Wait. What?!”