Sliding Into Home by Kendra Wilkinson Page A
Authors: Kendra Wilkinson
Tags: United States, General, Biography & Autobiography, Entertainment & Performing Arts, Biography, Autobiography, Models (Persons), Models (Persons) - United States, Television Personalities - United States, Rich & Famous, Entertainment & Performing Arts - General, Television personalities, Entertainment & Performing Arts - Television Personalities, Wilkinson; Kendra
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stage,” blasted the MC’s voice over the speakers.
I used my real name. Why not? What else was I going to use? I didn’t think I looked like a Scarlett or a Maxine. I was Kendra, and that’s what the customers were going to get.
I went onstage to a Limp Bizkit song and the crowd went wild. The owner didn’t like hip-hop and I was into heavy metal that week anyway, so Limp Bizkit worked fine for me.
Doing the tease part seemed silly. I’m not a tease, so I stripped off all my clothes right away. The guys appreciated that. For the first time in my life I felt sexy, strong, confident, and powerful all at the same time. I was naked, free for the world to see, and I felt like the greatest person in the world. Dollar bills were flying everywhere, and I scooped them up as I danced.
When I was done one of the customers called me over. He was a thirtysomething average Joe white guy.
“Are you new here?” the obviously horny man who, rumor had it, was into the fresh meat at the club asked me.
“Yes, I am,” I replied.
“Want to dance for me?”
So I gave him my very first lap dance. Actually, it was barely even a lap dance, since I didn’t touch him at all—I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do or how close I was supposed to get. I didn’t really want to go near him, but I didn’t want to lose the job, either, so I just sort of danced around him and then sat and talked to him for a long time, which he seemed to like. You’d be surprised how many of the guys at strip clubs just want a girl to sit and talk and be flirty with them for a little while.
I danced a few sets, worked my way around the room, and talkedto some more customers. By the end of the night the other girls were being really nice to me and had accepted me as one of them. They thought I was so little and cute; I guess it’s hard to feel threatened by such a young, innocent-looking girl.
Before it was time to leave, my new friend, the fan of fresh meat, came over to me and handed me $2,000 in cash. I made more than two grand on my first night! He wanted me to “hang out” with him after my shift was over, but I told him “maybe next week”—a line I’d end up using with a lot of guys. There was no way that was ever happening, but I didn’t want to lose the business.
I got a ride back to Zack’s house as fast as I could. It was 4:30 in the morning when I got there, but I woke him up screaming.
“Look at what I got!” I yelled as I tossed the money onto the bed. “Two. Thousand. Dollars. In one night!”
Do you know how many pizzas I had to forget the cheese on or how many hours of teaching kids how to brush their teeth I needed to clock to make that kind of money? I felt like I had won the lottery, and all I had done was take my clothes off. How easy is that?
The next day Zack and I went and signed a lease on a new apartment. We used my $2,000 as a down payment for the first and last months’ rent and a security deposit, and when it came time to fill out the application, under occupation I proudly wrote “stripper.”
It wasn’t long before I was completely comfortable at Cheetah’s. I’d walk in with a big smile on my face and say hello to everyone. “What’s up, girl?” I’d shout to a stripper friend who was grinding up on some customer. The other girls were like family to me.
After I’d say my hellos, I’d walk over to the DJ booth and check in, and then before I knew it they were playing my song. I started with Limp Bizkit, and my second song was Tim McGraw’s “Something Like That” I loved country music, and that song was perfect:
I had a barbeque stain on my white T-shirt,
She was killing me in that miniskirt.
The crowd would go crazy.
Cheetah’s was the most popular strip club in San Diego. The crowd was usually the same—younger people on the weekends and an older crowd during the week—and they had a lot of regulars, mostly white and Asian guys, and I got to know some of them really well.
The
I used my real name. Why not? What else was I going to use? I didn’t think I looked like a Scarlett or a Maxine. I was Kendra, and that’s what the customers were going to get.
I went onstage to a Limp Bizkit song and the crowd went wild. The owner didn’t like hip-hop and I was into heavy metal that week anyway, so Limp Bizkit worked fine for me.
Doing the tease part seemed silly. I’m not a tease, so I stripped off all my clothes right away. The guys appreciated that. For the first time in my life I felt sexy, strong, confident, and powerful all at the same time. I was naked, free for the world to see, and I felt like the greatest person in the world. Dollar bills were flying everywhere, and I scooped them up as I danced.
When I was done one of the customers called me over. He was a thirtysomething average Joe white guy.
“Are you new here?” the obviously horny man who, rumor had it, was into the fresh meat at the club asked me.
“Yes, I am,” I replied.
“Want to dance for me?”
So I gave him my very first lap dance. Actually, it was barely even a lap dance, since I didn’t touch him at all—I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do or how close I was supposed to get. I didn’t really want to go near him, but I didn’t want to lose the job, either, so I just sort of danced around him and then sat and talked to him for a long time, which he seemed to like. You’d be surprised how many of the guys at strip clubs just want a girl to sit and talk and be flirty with them for a little while.
I danced a few sets, worked my way around the room, and talkedto some more customers. By the end of the night the other girls were being really nice to me and had accepted me as one of them. They thought I was so little and cute; I guess it’s hard to feel threatened by such a young, innocent-looking girl.
Before it was time to leave, my new friend, the fan of fresh meat, came over to me and handed me $2,000 in cash. I made more than two grand on my first night! He wanted me to “hang out” with him after my shift was over, but I told him “maybe next week”—a line I’d end up using with a lot of guys. There was no way that was ever happening, but I didn’t want to lose the business.
I got a ride back to Zack’s house as fast as I could. It was 4:30 in the morning when I got there, but I woke him up screaming.
“Look at what I got!” I yelled as I tossed the money onto the bed. “Two. Thousand. Dollars. In one night!”
Do you know how many pizzas I had to forget the cheese on or how many hours of teaching kids how to brush their teeth I needed to clock to make that kind of money? I felt like I had won the lottery, and all I had done was take my clothes off. How easy is that?
The next day Zack and I went and signed a lease on a new apartment. We used my $2,000 as a down payment for the first and last months’ rent and a security deposit, and when it came time to fill out the application, under occupation I proudly wrote “stripper.”
It wasn’t long before I was completely comfortable at Cheetah’s. I’d walk in with a big smile on my face and say hello to everyone. “What’s up, girl?” I’d shout to a stripper friend who was grinding up on some customer. The other girls were like family to me.
After I’d say my hellos, I’d walk over to the DJ booth and check in, and then before I knew it they were playing my song. I started with Limp Bizkit, and my second song was Tim McGraw’s “Something Like That” I loved country music, and that song was perfect:
I had a barbeque stain on my white T-shirt,
She was killing me in that miniskirt.
The crowd would go crazy.
Cheetah’s was the most popular strip club in San Diego. The crowd was usually the same—younger people on the weekends and an older crowd during the week—and they had a lot of regulars, mostly white and Asian guys, and I got to know some of them really well.
The
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