carapp-50080958 @carapp-50080958
I used to be a regular at that place. I was young and didn't care about anything else but dancing naked in front of guys who are too drunk to even notice me. They would throw money on the stage like it was confetti and I'd dance for them like they were my personal audience. The smell of cheap perfume and sweat lingered in the air, but I loved every minute of it.
I worked at that strip club for a year or so before I realized how lowly I felt after every shift. It wasn't just about the money; it was about the constant catcalling and objectification. But hey, a girl's gotta do what she needs to survive, right? At least back then, my parents had lost their jobs due to the economic crisis in Iran.
They were depending on me to bring home some cash, so I took whatever work I could find. The night shift at the club was when I'd go there every week. But after a while, it just started feeling like a never-ending cycle of humiliation. Eventually, I decided that I had had enough of being treated like nothing more than a piece of meat. I quit my job and moved to Paris to start fresh and focus on myself.
