If you thought she was good at the quadratic formula, you should see her other performances.
“It’s weird to think someone would pay you to get naked,” said the first year LCC business student who asked to remain nameless. “Once I started doing it, it was kind of fun and really easy money.”
I met her in MTH 111. Math class is the last place you can imagine meeting a stripper — except maybe the grocery store.
This woman reminded me more of a librarian than someone who disrobes to pay her tuition.
The 20-year-old exotic dancer doesn’t mind the job — or the arguably derogatory term “stripper” — but it wasn’t her first choice. She moved to Eugene two years ago from California with very little job experience. After struggling to find work, she wound up dancing.
Alone in a new place, she figured no one would judge her. So much for that. The stereotypes flow freely.
“They just assume that you party all the time and that basically you’re a ho.”
What challenges do college students who do double-duty as exotic dancers face?
“It’s just like having any other job.”
The customers are hit-and-miss.
“Some of them are just people that are really chill and fun. Other ones are really perverted and creepy. Some of them are really boring.”
Mostly, it’s the hours that get her. She works until 2:30 a.m. sometimes.
“I’d have to drink energy drinks at work to stay awake,” she says as she takes a swig of coffee.
Early classes are a dangerous thing in her business. Online classes cater to the exotic dancer, she says.
If you think college-students-turned-strippers are rare, you’re wrong.
“Honestly, most of the dancers are going to school.”
What do her parents think?
They don’t know.
“They would probably think I am a Satan-worshiper.”
But a Satan-worshiper she is not.
Clearly, she’s just a business student with a defined entrepreneurial spirit.
You never know who might be sitting next to you in class. It’s what I’m talking about when I say:
Everybody has a story.
Managing Editor Andy Rossback is at 541-463-5109 or a.rossback@gmail.com
