During the month of November the Lollipop Lounge has been blessed by the arrival of eight gorgeous brunettes. All 19 ­years old. Not one of them has danced ­be­fore. All of them love their new jobs.What baffles me is where did a 19-year-old work before she discovers in November that her true calling is that of a lap dancer? But all things apart, I’ve been enjoying the effect these young ­ones ­have on my establishment.

Now you see, a strip club has rules. Not rules like you can’t do this or you must not go there, but intricate rules laid down by the lionesses of the pride.

These hunters of prey have tasted the money. They have their own favourite clients. Their own favourite corners. They do not share. They do have an underlying respect for each other. This respect, of course, disappears when the big money spender arrives in her absence, but nevertheless they work in close harmony – and they have done so for many years.

But the new young vixens are bringing out the claws. I know that only a few of these wannabee young lap dancers will survive this harsh industry. I know they will change to blonde (blondes do make more money) and the boob job will ­come. She will get to know the taste of money and the sparkle in her eyes will go when another double shift is finished. She’ll tell me what a wonderful husband she has, who looks after the kids while she is taking off her clothes.

But for now, these new girls are over­zealous. Their dancing on stage resembles that of a young giraffe learning to walk. Their boobs are perky and their little bottoms firm and white. They dance without look­ing for the spotlights on ­stage. They do not know the value of the sunbed and hair exten­sions, yet.

And yes, “yet” is the dreaded word. Because all of this can and will change fast. When they realise that it’s all about the money. Tasting R5?000 a night. That will be the turning point, and the older lionesses know this too well. I had a smile on my face when one of the new vixens did a lovely raunchy lap dance that left the customer grinning from ear to ear. Dazed, he handed over his R300. I had to remind her as she left him that she ­forgot to remove her G-string and bra. She giggled and turned back to ­finish. Only at 19 will you be forgiven for such an oversight. She was given another R200 for a job well done. I saw the older girls measuring her up, discussing her, smiling as she walked past. They saw themselves 10 years ago, but there was no sisterly feeling. Here the strongest survive. She will have to prove herself. She will have to endure. She’ll have to change from the “struggling-to-dance” ­giraffe to a leopard.

I wait in anticipation!

Love
Xxx
Gigi