not me, my mate
my best mate(now sadly deceased) used to be a stripper. strangely, this is not as glamorous as you'd think.
she never stripped fully, just down to her knickers, although many punters considered this ridiculously over-dressed and attempted to remedy the situation. she was only small, about 5ft 2, so she was easily outweighed by the sweaty, hairy beer monsters she had to deal with.
bad parts of the job included:
3 attempted rapes
being hit with a chair/pool cue/bottle/table/fist
clothing torn to shreds
being spat at
being doused in beer
having sambucca poured on her head, which some twunt then tried to light
being picked up and flung across a bar
having a ciggy put out on her chest

as you can see, this job was not all it was cracked up to be. the money, however, was very good for her minimal needs. she was earning up to £300 for 2 days' work, which, as far as i know, was used to fund her boyfriend's phone-sex addiction.

she put up with all this with a smile and a cheery manner that i miss greatly.

the straw that cracked the dromedary's spine was having her handbag stolen from the boss' car. the place they were working that night had a really bad reputation, so her idiot boss had left the car unlocked to facilitate a quick getaway(he'd done a runner from a bad pub the week previously, leaving her there alone to deal with the shit until i picked her up in a taxi). my mate believed - and i agreed with her - that this meant the theft of her bag was her boss' responsibility. when she asked him if he was going to replace what had been stolen, he screamed at her "WHAT? you don't expect ME to pay for your shit, do you? YOU decided to bring the fucking thing with you, YOU can replace it yourself!"
my friend was so stunned, all she could manage to say was "fine, i quit."

the following week, he phoned her, all cheerfulness and sunlight, as if the handbag incident had never occured. "ah, *****, you've got a busy weekend coming up, i'll pick you up at 6 as usual."
"no, you won't" says she.
"WHAT?" he snarls
"well, in case you're hard of hearing, i'll tell you again; i quit."
"YOU CAN'T FUCKING QUIT! I WON'T LET YOU!"
"listen, you greedy, cowardly, money-grabbing cocksucker" she says, "even if i worked in a leper colony, it would be better than working for a fuck-up like you. now, take your shitty job, fold it sideways and SHOVE IT UP YOUR USELESS FAT ARSE! I QUIT!"
and, with that, she slammed the phone down on him.
i was so proud of her.

length? 12 months before he died of misdiagnosed stomach cancer
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 24 May 2008, 15:10, Reply)