I still believe, at 25, that a shower will get the day off of me, that it can be that easy. This faith, trampled flat after emerging from the shower cold and squeaky (it's scary when your skin actually squeaks; that always seemed better as a metaphor, a little add on before clean). On the off days I wear eyeliner, it's thick and black and is painted on with a little brush from a tiny tiny bottle. I do Cleopatra eyes, flapper girl eyes, geisha eyes. When I'm in the shower, it all comes back to liquid, and without being able to see I imagine I look beautiful this way, all smudged up and tragic, all delicate and brave at once, naked and yet painted. All those virtues clothing designers use to describe models they invite to Paris. When they walk the runway, I heard, the models' clothes are pinned on, for easy on and off.

In my shower there's an extra tension rod that holds a second shower curtain which drapes over the top of the stall so all the steam doesn't just go whoosh up to the high ceilings in my drafty abode. Before I thought up that Martha Stewart nightmare, I could never really stay warm in it. I was very proud of myself.

When I get out, it's the pit in the Indy to get dry before I get cold. Lotion on the parts that will get dry soon after, then layer layer layer of clothing articles. I remember when showers could lose me, could swallow me up into another world for fifteen minutes. I remember laying down on towels outside the shower at my parents' condo where I spent my teen years. I would lay down and watch the steam come off my skin, feeling magical, some creature between fire and ash, like the odd flickerings under a smoldering log in a campfire that looked like shadows but were hard to make out because the air all around them stuttered like one of those curly cue straws you drank milk out of just to see it run up, over, and around. Like the straw, the log soon got tiring to look at, and you turned away, you got over the novelty of it. At the condo shower, there was a heat lamp in the bathroom, so you could keep your reflection in the mirror pink as long as you tuned out the tick tick tick of the timer dial on the wall. Like the heat rocks in the sauna, hissing and sputtering. Like the sun if you could stare into it without those tin foil boxes during an eclipse.

There are two kinds of showers that are important in the life of a stripper. The first involves liquid funds and setting up your ass.

My introduction to what I consider "The. Sexiest. Shower. Ever." bordered on obscenity and created a lust for money in a way that I had never experienced before. It coincided with what I call a "3:30 AM miracle" at the strip club -- during slow shifts I pray with every ritualistic bounce of the booty for that busload of men to break down right in front of our club. In reality, at least one more rush of people spending money in that last half-hour before we close would be fabulous.

It was 3:40 AM on a quiet June night and I was dancing my last 20 minute stage set to my reflection in the mirror since the room contained more tipsy dancers than tipping clients. I had only been stripping at most two or three weeks when I got my first and only money shower to date. I had been working a double shift and had made only slightly over $100 for nearly 13 hours of work. Pouting inside, shaking the booty and smiling outside, my miracle manifests when the girls point out that three of my friends have arrived and are commandeering a corner of the bar.

I shake, saunter, and shimmy over with a huge grin on my face. Several off-stage girls run over to the male friend of the group who is rather well known in our corner of Williamsburg (and is also a known spender at the club) but he's come to see how I'm doing so I start summoning up the small bag of sexy tricks I've learned thus far. Basic booty bounce. My shamanic shake. I deep-throat the double ended dildo him and the guys got me for my birthday last year. I get on my back for some acrobatics. Upside down with one leg on the pole and the other spread out in the air to show off the well-hung coochie, the bartender tells me to stay right where I am and it begins.

Money shower Type A: The bartender stands over me with a pile of singles in one hand, and uses her other hand to deal out the dough rapidly. Money flies over me, under me, on my face, my breasts, my cooch, my hair. Time stands still but the money counter keeps ticking. I'm laughing out loud, I had never even seen money showers done or heard of the concept until it happened to me and being the lucky recipient ultimately felt loving, lustful, lewd, and ludicrous!

Money shower Type B: I stood up to thank my friends and they threw even more money in fistfuls! I was in total shock and felt like TEH DIVA. I was literally swimming in singles and had more than doubled my income for the evening as a result of their generosity. I am eternally grateful, both for the money and the priceless memory.

I fight envy when I see another stripper get showered by one of their clients now. I long to feel that certain kind of special again, even if only for a quick-rinse $20 shower. Sigh. Every girl has their night once in a while, though, and it isn't always so blatantly obvious. In the past I've commented on someone getting a shower only to be told (on occasion) it was from a boyfriend, but does that really decrease the personal value of the experience? I don't think it would for me.

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                                                               some modifications)

Finally, the second shower isn't of a new type, it's just the one after your shift involving good ole soap and water. While for me stripping is a fantasy come true, it is indeed a dirty one given the nature of money, carpets on small stages, and men's hands. I feel more physically purified when showering after stripping than I do after sex. You know it was a bad day at work if you didn't dance up a sweat or get groped enough to warrant one. ;)

Show"er (?), n.


One who shows or exhibits.


That which shows; a mirror.




© Webster 1913.

Show"er (?), n. [OE. shour, schour, AS. ser; akin to D. schoer, G. schauer, OHG. scr, Icel. skr, Sw. skur, Goth. skra windis a storm of wind; of uncertain origin.]


A fall or rain or hail of short duration; sometimes, but rarely, a like fall of snow.

In drought or else showers. Chaucer.

Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers. Milton.


That which resembles a shower in falling or passing through the air copiously and rapidly.

With showers of stones he drives them far away. Pope.


A copious supply bestowed.


He and myself Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts. Shak.

Shower bath, a bath in which water is showered from above, and sometimes from the sides also.


© Webster 1913.

Show"er, v. t. [imp. & p. p. Showered (?); p. pr. & vb. n. Showering.]


To water with a shower; to t copiously with rain.

Lest it again dissolve and shower the earth. Milton.


To bestow liberally; to distribute or scatter in abundance; to rain.


Caesar's favor, That showers down greatness on his friends. Addison.


© Webster 1913.

Show"er, v. i.

To rain in showers; to fall, as in a shower or showers.



© Webster 1913.

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