Jobs my son will hopefully never have: Strip club DJ

In theory a job as a DJ is fun and glamorous.  Continuing that theory, a job as a DJ in a strip club must then be even more exotic.  All you’re doing is playing music for ladies to undress to, what could be hard about that?  However, a job like that job is nothing to go into half cocked, it requires attention to detail and concentration.

Let’s imagine a more innocent time in 1993; the biggest news in nudity was that a show on ABC called NYPD Blue was casting extras who didn’t mind getting naked.  Thankfully, for insecure middle aged men everywhere, Lt. Sipowitz was available and more than willing to go as full monty as 10:00 PM allows.

An out of work DJ has very few job opportunities if they only want to spin tunes.  Back then we still spun tunes, records spinning, the occasional CD and patter between songs.  Either you’ll work in radio, night clubs or talk to yourself on the street corner repeating the time, temperature and saying how cool the latest Soul Asylum CD is.

As radio wasn’t hiring and looking homelessness didn’t become me, I approached a couple adult clubs to see if they needed a DJ.  One of the clubs I went to said that they were growing and that they had an opening for me.

The Girls

Prior to this I hadn’t been to many adult clubs.   I liked the women and I liked the naked, but I was cheap.  For me, to put dollar bills in some girls garter would do nothing but make me a (much) poorer man.

The girls were all very pleasant.  Some of them were smart and squirreling away all of their money.  One particular pair of girls was saving their cash to open up a dive shop in the keys.  Some of the girls were there for the attention and a couple of them were there just to sleep with famous people.

So, being the DJ, I had to go back to where the girls were changing clothes.  At first it was weird, like I should be knocking to enter the girl’s locker room before the girls leave the room to get naked.   The girls had a house mother, who would help them get ready, do make up and assist them with any pasty or thong issues they were having.

At the beginning of each night I would create a cheat sheet for each girl that included their name and where they were from.  One night when I was making the list a girl told me that her name was Britta and that she was from Norway.    “Oh cool, I just got back from Norway, beautiful country, tu er yuhvla vin!”

Well, I was a bit naïve obviously.  They used fake names and exotic locations as their hometown.  It makes sense, Sonja from Stockholm does sound sexier than Susie from Nashville.  However, if you’re ever in Norway and want to impress the locals just say “tu er yuhvla fin”, it roughly translates into “you’re hot”.

The Job

Strip club music is different from what you’ll hear on the radio.  In my mind’s eye I had this vision of Trey’s alternative strip club, where I’d play Romeo Void, The Pixies and other music that would make the hipsters happy.  Come to find out that the girls like to have certain songs played when they dance.

You could tell the girls who had seniority because they had dibs on certain songs.  These songs were, Black Velvet, Damn I Wish I was your Lover, Cherry Pie and anything by Motley Crue or Def Leopard.   There were three stages, each girl would start on the smallest stage and end their set on the main stage, right beside the DJ booth.

“Don’t forget the bartenders, they’re shaking the drinks and the girls are rockin the stage” is something cheesy I’d say.  “How about a nice round of applause for Candy on stage 2”, was another classic.  My banter was inane and the music I played was mundane and repetitious.

It was on the main stage where they wanted their song to be played when they were on it.  If the girl was just there because of the love of dance, a la, Flashdance, then I’d play whatever struck my fancy.

One such night I let too much time elapse on the song that was playing and didn’t have anything cued up.  Imagine that, a young, single, guy, drinking, playing music and looking at dancing women being distracted.  I knew that I had less than: 30 before the song ended cold, all of the A list songs were taken and I needed something for Summer to shake her money make to.  I loved this song, and if I, a trained DJ loved this song, then surely Summer would love it too.

It was called Sesame’s Treet, an acid house remix to the theme to Sesame Street.  It’s a great club song and sounds really great in the car too.

Unfortunately for the audience and the other two girls dancing it immediately crushed their stripping mojo.  The only people who liked were the bartenders.  To make the song even worse it starts very slow and doesn’t get moving until: 20 into it.  : 20 of dead air or a slow intro to a song is an eternity, especially when a dancing, naked woman is five feet from you.

Fact:  Summer was ambivalent and politely said, “can you change the song?” as she spun around on the pole.  Summer was apparently dancing in the spirit of Flashdance.   The audience was a bit more vocal with most of them either booing me or yelling change the song.    I fumbled quickly and found something by Great White, lowered my head and retreated to the dressing room.

My strip club DJ career ended a couple weeks after that when the second club they were going to open ran into permitting issues.  The visions of Trey’s alternative strip lounge ended then as well.   I still like that song and I still like summer, now I just like spending it with my wife and child.