"“No one shall be held in slavery or servitude: slavery and the slave trade shall be prohibited in all their forms.”"
A whole new world.
Where do these girls come from? How does a young vibrant woman find herself taking off their clothes for strangers every night? There are many things to draw someone into the life of a stripper; money, desperation, lack of a better choice, and unfortunately some are forced.
For me it was a little of all. As a teenage runaway, one day, I found myself with a truck driver headed to New Orleans. For the whole tip he told me stories about Mardi Gras and the French Quarter. Once we finally arrived, I knew I had to see the French Quarter for myself. With a promise to make it back in an hour, I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed out.
With every step I took, I was in awe of what I saw. The sidewalks were lined with two story buildings and each one had a balcony which overlooked the street below. Every now and then, I heard the sound of a gate clashing and then someone would walk out onto the street. Cars were bumper to bumper trying to weave through the narrow streets. The sound of jazz music filled the air. It was mesmerizing.
Walking around, I stumbled upon a square filled with artists and musicians. It seemed to be sort of an open air market with booths set up selling little trinkets. I sat down on the curb to take it all in. A girl standing nearby was asking passersby for spare change. She looked close to my age, so I struck up a conversation. After we talked for a while, she told me she was a run away too and had been in the quarter for a few months. Kitty was what she called herself. She seemed to know everything about the city. Thankfully, she told me about a place to stay for fifteen dollars a night and three dollars for an extra person, a flop house of sorts. She offered to let me crash with her for the night, if I could come up with three dollars; easy enough I thought. Forgetting about my previous promise to return, I was off with my new found friend Kitty to hustle some cash.
By midnight, we had made enough for dinner and our room for the night. After we ate a hotdog from a street vendor, we walked to the hotel. The hotel was unlike any I had ever seen. The staircase leading to the rooms was rickety and old. As I reached the top it let us out onto a balcony hallway that wounded around all four sides of the building. Walking around the balcony to find our room, the hall was cramped and dim. When Kitty opened the door, I was shocked at how small the room was. There was one bed, a small table with a lamp, and a chair. There was barely enough room to make a pallet on the floor. This was not a room, it was a closet. When I had to use the bathroom, Kitty showed me to the communal bathroom down the hall. Walking back down the hall, people stood in the door ways smoking, drinking, and talking about their adventures that day. Kitty knew a few people and introduced me around. One of them was named Dawg. He seemed nice enough and I went with the flow when he offered to show us around the city tomorrow. We made plans to meet in the morning and headed to bed.
The next day was a whirl wind. Dawg took Kitty and I on a walk by the river, we rode a street car, went to the largest record store I had ever seen, and we even went to a voodoo shop. It was exciting. Dawg seemed to know someone everywhere we stopped.
As evening began to set in Dawg took us to his friends, where he said I could barrow some clothes to go dancing in. After some small talk, Dawg and the lady dressed me up for a night on the town. I was excited; I had never been clubbing before. I didn’t dare let them know how old I was. I was too afraid the magic of the night would quickly end if they knew the truth.
It wasn’t long before we were off to the club. As we walked down the street, music filled the air. When we turned a corner and stepped onto Bourbon Street, I was surprised to see the street closed and people walking around drinking. We walked down the street until Dawg stopped and told us to wait by the door until he returned. Standing there looking around, it was hard to take in everything. It was a huge street party. In that moment I knew I was in a whole new world.
When Dawg came back, he handed us each a plastic cup filled with beer and down the street we walked. Turning a corner, Dawg told us we were almost there and that we had to drink up because we couldn’t take them in with us.
Once we arrived, Dawg left us outside with the man working the door. The doorman flirted with us as he asked a lot of questions. We just laughed and giggled playing along with him. It was at this moment that everything changed. If I would have just walked away instead of waiting there for him, my whole life would have taken a different path. But no, the promise of excitement and adventure kept me mesmerized standing there.
For me it was a little of all. As a teenage runaway, one day, I found myself with a truck driver headed to New Orleans. For the whole tip he told me stories about Mardi Gras and the French Quarter. Once we finally arrived, I knew I had to see the French Quarter for myself. With a promise to make it back in an hour, I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed out.
With every step I took, I was in awe of what I saw. The sidewalks were lined with two story buildings and each one had a balcony which overlooked the street below. Every now and then, I heard the sound of a gate clashing and then someone would walk out onto the street. Cars were bumper to bumper trying to weave through the narrow streets. The sound of jazz music filled the air. It was mesmerizing.
Walking around, I stumbled upon a square filled with artists and musicians. It seemed to be sort of an open air market with booths set up selling little trinkets. I sat down on the curb to take it all in. A girl standing nearby was asking passersby for spare change. She looked close to my age, so I struck up a conversation. After we talked for a while, she told me she was a run away too and had been in the quarter for a few months. Kitty was what she called herself. She seemed to know everything about the city. Thankfully, she told me about a place to stay for fifteen dollars a night and three dollars for an extra person, a flop house of sorts. She offered to let me crash with her for the night, if I could come up with three dollars; easy enough I thought. Forgetting about my previous promise to return, I was off with my new found friend Kitty to hustle some cash.
By midnight, we had made enough for dinner and our room for the night. After we ate a hotdog from a street vendor, we walked to the hotel. The hotel was unlike any I had ever seen. The staircase leading to the rooms was rickety and old. As I reached the top it let us out onto a balcony hallway that wounded around all four sides of the building. Walking around the balcony to find our room, the hall was cramped and dim. When Kitty opened the door, I was shocked at how small the room was. There was one bed, a small table with a lamp, and a chair. There was barely enough room to make a pallet on the floor. This was not a room, it was a closet. When I had to use the bathroom, Kitty showed me to the communal bathroom down the hall. Walking back down the hall, people stood in the door ways smoking, drinking, and talking about their adventures that day. Kitty knew a few people and introduced me around. One of them was named Dawg. He seemed nice enough and I went with the flow when he offered to show us around the city tomorrow. We made plans to meet in the morning and headed to bed.
The next day was a whirl wind. Dawg took Kitty and I on a walk by the river, we rode a street car, went to the largest record store I had ever seen, and we even went to a voodoo shop. It was exciting. Dawg seemed to know someone everywhere we stopped.
As evening began to set in Dawg took us to his friends, where he said I could barrow some clothes to go dancing in. After some small talk, Dawg and the lady dressed me up for a night on the town. I was excited; I had never been clubbing before. I didn’t dare let them know how old I was. I was too afraid the magic of the night would quickly end if they knew the truth.
It wasn’t long before we were off to the club. As we walked down the street, music filled the air. When we turned a corner and stepped onto Bourbon Street, I was surprised to see the street closed and people walking around drinking. We walked down the street until Dawg stopped and told us to wait by the door until he returned. Standing there looking around, it was hard to take in everything. It was a huge street party. In that moment I knew I was in a whole new world.
When Dawg came back, he handed us each a plastic cup filled with beer and down the street we walked. Turning a corner, Dawg told us we were almost there and that we had to drink up because we couldn’t take them in with us.
Once we arrived, Dawg left us outside with the man working the door. The doorman flirted with us as he asked a lot of questions. We just laughed and giggled playing along with him. It was at this moment that everything changed. If I would have just walked away instead of waiting there for him, my whole life would have taken a different path. But no, the promise of excitement and adventure kept me mesmerized standing there.
More more more,! I have to admit- though I have my own story of addiction and sex trade work and I know how ugly that world is, through your teenage perspective Narrative it looks and sounds glamorous- and oh the feeling after all that work that you were expected to pay! I look forward to more installments.
I'm really enjoying your articles, looking forward to more.