So yesterday was my official début as a go-go boy. The dollar in the contest photo was given to me the night I auditioned; from 11:00 p.m. last night to 3:00 a.m. this morning I had my first paid engagement. For four hours, I stood on a bar and writhed in simulated ecstasy while appreciative men stuffed cash down my underwear.
And I now have an important piece of advice for everybody:
Try never to touch singles with your bare hands again.
You have no idea where they might have been and with the remnants of what effluvia they might still be covered.
Well, you probably have some idea. But that should be enough to give you pause.
All of your obsessive-compulsive readers thank you…
So sorry to have missed the opportunity to see as you “writhed in simulated ecstasy”, but, had it been “stimulated ecstasy”, I would have definitely been there!
Dress reheasal was last night and since I do actually have to be up before the ungodly hour of 10AM, I thought it best to go home and sleep.
In reference to your warning about the cleanliness of dollar bills, I will be sniffing all of mine in the remote chance that one of them contains your effluvia.
Er, are there any pics of this auspicious moment in dance history?
Sweet, sweet Faustus: Who HASN’T seen you writhe in simulated ecstasy? I’m just glad you’re not giving it away for free anymore.
Thank you, David, for that lovely vision. When in doubt, add a little effluvia of your own. (Would that make you an effluviator?) I’m just a little bit scared. Thus, with visions of effluvia dancing in my head, I’m rushing out to buy a gallon-sized jug of Purell.
While you are doubtless making immense piles of cash with your go-go dancing, I suspect that you could make a good deal more by inventing a credit card swipe machine for go-go dancers. Something lightweight and strategically placed on the g-string or (dare I say it?) attached directly to the dancer with some sort of body adhesive. Men would be lining up to swipe, and you could effectively eliminate effluvia.
Could be worse. In Canada, we don’t have dollar bills. Just coins.
Ya know, REAL dancers don’t simulate. 😉
All things considered, I don’t understand why money insists on smelling like cocaine.
It is just dirty pieces of paper.
OMG, do men in america actually give one dollar bills to strippers? WHAT CHEAPSKATES! lol. I thought it was just a joke on tv and the movies.
It’s true Chris. And the strippers sometimes go to great lenghts to get those one dollar bills as well.
Of course, not that Faustus would do such a thing!
Go go dancers aren’t as common (as in plentiful as opposed to a class distinction) here in London as they were back in NY. And when I have seen them, they’re not dancing for tips … just the sheer glory of the art.
And there is one boy at The Village who is very artful. Sigh.
Perhaps the patrons should switch to Susan B. Anthony coins… 😉
GODDAMN!! I thought he was joking and, given my visceral dislike of ‘Splash ‘(it is a long story), I decided it was not worth the risk. O me miserum, how utterly wrong I was!
Still, I’ll be back in May, and if the maestro would care to divulge his performance schedule….
Pictures immediately, please. If for no other reason than to show your debut performance thong.
So now that you have debuted in NYC, the Capital City is calling. As you may have heard, the main go-go boy bars of “O” Street in Southeast are feting the wrecking ball as they become third base for the new Nationals stadium. So the last venue is “Wet,” an old Splash knock-off that has an amateur night. So let’s plan on your pole dance in the shadows of the Capitol building!
Congratulations on your first gig! Trust me, if you continue to do this you will have many things to share with your readers. As for the rethinking of handling cash and where it has been
As far as where the dollar bills have been…well, why would that even make one pause? And the credit card machine is a good idea…if you have the technology eventually, the crack to swipe through is always available. And they say the human body wasn’t meant for some things.
And here I thought you were a pure little composer of musical theatre. I had no idea you were a dirty boy.