Review: Atlantic City, NJ

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So Atlantic city sucked. I didn’t know the strip clubs weren’t for the casino crowd. The casino crowd NEVER left the casino. Everybody looked like money, too bad not my money.

I only checked out the Bare Exposure club on Pacific Ave while in Atlantic City. The club was just as cold as the beach. Four young cheap idiots came in. Cheap because when I danced, they whistled and didn’t pay me. Idiots because they were talking to other dancers like they were at a house party. This club didn’t serve alcohol but allowed you to BYOB (Bring Your Own Beer), so I kinda understand how they can get that impression. The girls weren’t aggressive or carrying that these guys were wasting their time. They actually looked happy to have some company. Well, I’m happy to have unpaid company. That is a no-no. I’m always focused on the money and can only relax when I have reached my goal. Even after that, I still try to make more. I could tell these strippers didn’t average well on weekdays. I like to average at least $400 a day. I know the economy is bad but if people can make it to the slots, they can make it to the strip club.  All of a sudden, thoughts of what a stereotyped stripper came to me. And at that moment, I was surrounded by them. Mist believe strippers are poor. They believe a stripper should be happy to go home with $150. Hooray right? No. Most people, especially woman believe the average stripper are people who can’t become employed, take drugs, or just prostitutes. Not to put them beauties down, but I’m not your average stripper. I gave up my nursing job because stripping bank more than a 9 to 5 is willing to pay.

That being said, I can’t stay here. $pp150 would be my daily expenses since I’m living in a hotel, so I wouldn’t make a true profit. Hustling hard, and hustling smart are two different things.
So I’m going back to Pittsburgh where I can hustle smart. Until I am ready to try again. Yes this trip was discouraging but I will try again. The search for the money is not over. To be continued…

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Cold. Empty. Quiet.

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The beach is like me.
Cold. Empty. Quiet.
My mind is never this quiet. My head is usually pounding with unanswered questions, unresolved issues, and everything in between. Giving up is never this easily thought. My nurse called me today. To our surprise, I have many worries and no anxiety. I’m ready to quit and I have barely begun. I could run again, but I have no where to go. I want to believe I’m finally moving forward and not in circles.

The clubs don’t open til after 6pm. This is not a good sign of a money- making club. Especially when there are casinos everywhere. I’m actually at a casino right now. It’s now after 6p, so its time to try to find work.

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Already I miss home. Not my apartment, just the feeling that I belong somewhere. There’s somewhere in this world, I’m supposed to be. Somewhere I make a difference to the people around me. Somewhere I make a change in my own life. Somewhere that’s obviously not here. Why is it so cold here? Come morning, I have a lot to figure out. It may be wrong to drink a corona and pray but alcohol brings out the truth. The truth before I drank some coronas. The truth that we all see so clearly. It’s evident that I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’ll figure it out one day, one day. Hopefully sooner rather than later…