The Lonely Ones.



“If you like what you see and with your curiosity let your mind roam free.”

A week, what could have been more like a month of rest later I have reentered back into my normal routine of doing. Feels good.  During my time out in my isolation box I have done more thinking than usual.  Fucking has been out of the question. Fucking has been the only thing on my mind. I got to thinking about my seclusion from society as clearly my choice. I choose not to be apart of anything with anyone beyond a surface level.  I choose not to let anyone in on my writing, and for the most of my twenties and early thirties I chose stripping as my career.  It seems strange that someone whom clearly makes conscious choices over and over again to not belong in the right safe places finds belonging amongst some of the most damaging spaces in between.  I know, it boils right down to the ever present  vile lack of self esteem.  Sparrow got so annoyed with me last night.  I had found a book by an author that we both liked and it was a story about men and the relationship with “their” dancer, at the strip club.  I didn’t care what the story was about I was just happy to find another book by this author.  Sparrow put his book down, looked up at me and ranted for a few minutes about the fact that I talk all this shit, that all I want to do is try to let go of this life and all I want to do is read about it, look shit up about it everyday online, everything is about sex work . . . he went on and then he says, “You get mad at me for going into work because you say you want to let it go, you don’t do you? It’s always still an option.”

After this conversation I started thinking of my job, isolation and society.  There is probably no other job that is as isolating as being a dancer, especially if it is a separate life and nobody knows.  Then I sat and I thought about it . . . it is no secret that the people that come and frequent these places are less then desirable  individuals.  These places breed them. . .trust no one, they can be anybody just as easily as I was (I was Zoe Jane Tuesdays and Thursdays, always said with a very coy smile).  I sometimes let my mind get the best of me, there were two specific scenarios that always would play out.  One, is that a serial killer who hates women, especially those “whorish” ones, would come in and get a lap dance, then he would start slicing me to pieces with the razorblade.  The second, was always a pedophile of some kind, that would say things like, “will you be my little girl?” “Can I play with you?” My answer in my fictitious story would be, “NO” and all I could think about who was this fuck fantasizing too . . .his daughter or whatever child was tied up in the truck of his car.  Unpleasant scenarios.  I told this to Sparrow  a while back and his response was, “And you don’t think this job fucked you up?” Sick shit but not unreasonable.  Then this brought me around the corner in my mind to the real people that kept me a float in this business, the men that have no place or life in real society the men that are so isolated with no friends, nobody.  They go unnoticed, they have unimportant jobs, no connections to others, they are the lonely ones in society.  Too me they were so sad and they were always were my customers.  The lonely ones I will say, are the kindest most open hearted people, there is no belittling, nothing more then the utmost respect.  All they want is someone to care about them . . . they believe in the illusion all too well.  They come back week after week spending hundreds if not thousands of dollars on someone they don’t know.  And still all they care about is seeing that beautiful face and someone being happy to see them.  Of course I was happy, you believed it, you believed that I cared and we were friends and that meeting me was “something real special.”  Again, you pay me, I am going to be everything I know you want me to be . . . I think back now and I feel more then sorry for them.  A lot have no one and the ones they have are paid, and not for sex because that is easy.  They are paying for company and companionship.  Too bad nobody, this is for me too ,showed them true compassion and not an illusionatory kind.  But as they say, let the buyer beware.

Sparrow later apologized and said he should have just kept what he was thinking in the back of his mind to himself. . .it was just in the back of his mind and of no real importance to him.  Do not get me wrong there are creepy ass mother fuckers that would come in. I though, have encountered my scary scenarios not as Zoe Jane in the strip club but as me, myself on a monday morning  in Target.  NO SHIT. I was looking for tank tops and a man in his mid thirties came up to me saying,”You look beautiful today, I hope you’re husband told you so.” Me, “um ok.”  A few minutes went by I am by the fitting room, (I can not make this shit up), the man is now across the clearance rack from me and says, . . . are you fucking ready . . . “Why don’t you come outside with me because I want to have some real fun with you.  I will be waiting in front outside the store, you’re a pretty one.” I was paralyzed in fear. The man had ice running through his veins.  The girl working at the fitting room called over heard what he said and called security.  Too make a long story short I will sum it up with two words the man was driving a gray “rape van.”  I believe that he was going to kill me one way or the other.  So in my quest for leading a quiet life there is no prediction of where the scary shit will present itself.  Let it be in my mind. . .not at the strip club or in all places at random Target.  I have found that the week in my isolation box may have served me well, I have been humbled a tad and appreciate of my body and all it does for me. I have been able to work though a very difficult situation without going off the deep end and spiraling into a deep depression or a horrible bout of self loathing. And after looking and thinking hard about the lonely ones that I profited off of (Karma please don’t come back around) I have begun to be kinder to strangers, smile, say good morning. In all reality strangers are the ones I am most honest with now, because there is no judgment, unlike the kind you find from your “friends”.



~ by applejaxe on April 27, 2012.

2 Responses to “The Lonely Ones.”

  1. Ugh… I really like the way you think and the way you express yourself in your posts, like how you bluntly describe the (often scary/sad/enraging) qualities of society, but still see the underlying and more intimate truths that many people refuse to see. Thank you for your comment and your encouragement, I am inspired by your introspection so I’ll definitely be reading as well!

  2. Thank you for taking time and reading through this blog. Sometimes it does get a little ugly but I try and see through it . . . it is the only way. It really means a lot such thoughtful words. For a while I thought about stopping, I thought nobody was reading this blog and then I thought fuck it. This is just my own way of venting my life stories. Free therapy. Then kind, supportive people like you have come into my life and started reading. Be well . . . namaste sister.

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