This archive report was first published on 10 November 2019.
It's been six years since I left the strip club, but the memories still linger. One customer in particular stands out - a man known only as M. He was a regular, and our conversations often turned to his life outside the club. He'd tell me about his three teenage daughters and the opera he'd seen lately, but he'd also mention his work, a murky finance gig that had recently attracted the attention of the authorities.
At first, I thought M. was full of it, spinning tales to impress me. But then I received a letter from him, addressed to me in my real name. It was a bombshell: the SEC had indeed caught up to him, and he was serving a multiple-year sentence for fiscal malfeasance.
I was touched, amused, and weirded out by the revelation. It made me realize that my experiences as a stripper were more complex than I'd initially thought. The gifts and trinkets exchanged between customers and dancers were more than just material goods - they were bonding agents, carrying a certain psychic stickiness.
As I reflect on my time at the club, I'm struck by the ways in which our relationships with others can be messy and complicated. We can't not know what we know, and we can't unfeel what we feel. A gift can have a lasting impact, and so can a letter.
Published on November 10, 2019.
