Roadwarrior

by Nick Molloy

  ‘Why are you talking to her, you should be over here with us’ scowled a blonde brummie angrily as I approached. The rest of her group were similar in their greeting.

  ‘We don’t want to talk to you any more, fuck off’ added another.

  The second party were only slightly more lukewarm in their welcome. I have pretty thick skin, so I re-established my acquaintance with the hottest woman in the room and we soon departed so that we could get to know each other better. She certainly made my next few visits to Birmingham well worth looking forward to.

  A couple of weeks later I telephoned the venue to see if they wanted to book another event for later in the year. They declined. There had been some complaints. As I have very thick skin, I always welcome constructive critique. How else can one possibly improve ? Naturally therefore, I probed as to the nature of the complaint. At first he was unwilling to divulge the nature of the complaint. This instantly makes me suspicious. If you buy a washing machine and it doesn’t work you take it back to the store and explain why you are returning the goods. If you brought it back and were unwilling to divulge what was wrong with the machine, the store would be unlikely to replace the machine or refund your money. They would be rightly suspicious of your motives (statutory rights aside).

  I noticed a very similar phenomenon in my years in recruitment. It was in that environment that I learnt to read people very well. Unconscious body language signals often divulge a lot face to face, but even on the telephone people unwittingly give themselves away unintentionally, particularly under clever questioning. The semantics of their sentence structure, their tone of voice or the manner in which they respond to a question all reveal whether somebody is likely to be telling the truth. It used to drive me insane when in recruitment that a prospective employer was unable to be honest with prospective employees. They used to tell me the real reason why they didn’t want to hire Candidate A, whereas, Candidate A usually came on the phone full of optimism imbued by client feedback at the interview. If the client is unwilling to give honest feedback to this person, how can he/she hope to improve their approach next time ? They will keep running into the same brick wall. You shouldn’t dent egos by constructively critiquing some of their failings – you give them a better chance next time ! Failure is the greatest teacher, but if someone doesn’t know they have failed they can’t learn from it !

  Typically however, in the recruitment situation, the prospective employee didn’t fail. The decision of an employer was rarely based on sound logic and instead came from an emotional standpoint of a given manager. Usually they would hire the wrong person for the job. The wrong face seemed to fit better than the right face.

  When I was in recruitment I was successful. I was told much later however, discussions were had amongst management about the fact that I didn’t drink. Because I didn’t go down the pub with the other lager louts, I didn’t fit in. As a result, I was considered a bit of a liability due to non-conformity. In that instance, my results made up for my lack of alcohol consumption, but another guy who didn’t drink wasn’t so lucky. His results were not as good. He didn’t go down the pub, management didn’t like him and he didn’t last long.

  I have a habit of exposing such irrational and bigoted thinking head on. This has never made me popular with management bigots. It is easy to see such bigotry as it attempts to mask itself and logical questioning soon exposes it. On the gay scene critiques have come my way from certain individuals because I have rejected their advances. They don’t criticize my act.

  I was confronted with a similar situation here. People had made a formal complaint. On the gay scene nobody has ever gone to this extent as far as I am aware. Instead, they just bitch into their beer about me not being gay. Making formal complaints is a step further. I knew why this had happened and I half expected it. I had spurned the advances of a few women. The old adage about a woman scorned rung true and the claws were out.

  I may have thick skin, but lies still hurt. I therefore probed the manager as to the nature of the lies. He was cagey but apparently people had complained that I looked nothing like my photograph ! Further probing revealed that what he meant by that, was that apparently I was far less muscled than in my photograph.

  This was complete nonsense and an outright lie. I have training diaries going back to 1999. I can tell you what I weighed on a certain day, how much I was lifting, how fast I was running, bodily measurements, etc. I do have a deceptive look. I don’t dress to advertise my physique. I’m not vain or egotistical in that way. I typically wear a baggy tracksuit because it is comfortable as opposed to a skin tight top that might show off my physique. As a result people are often surprised when I strip off and comments of ‘where did that come from’ are not uncommon.

  At the time of that show I was a little lighter than normal. I had been training for boxing. I would have liked to have had a few fights, but the black eyes from sparring weren’t helping stripping. Furthermore, finding a trainer willing to help out was like searching for the holy grail. Boxing is my favourite sport, but its training methods are in the dark ages and getting involved is like joining the Masons. (see a book by Dave Matthews entitled Looking for a Fight). Anyway, I was down to about 145lbs. However, the publicity photo they were using at the venue was taken the very same afternoon as I had competed in a powerlifting competition. For that competition, I had to boil down to 148lbs. My body composition had changed little. I hadn’t gone bald or grey, I hadn’t grown any lines or a gut. I looked very similar to my photo.

  I offered the venue manager a challenge. I would drive back to Birmingham that instant. If he could successfully demonstrate by way of photograph that I looked different to my publicity photo I would give him the fee back. If not, he should double the fee. Needless to say he didn’t take me up on the challenge. I think he knew and accepted the complaints were false. Why else would I make such a challenge ? However, in that particular venue I had made some detractors for life. I won’t be going back.

  There was an even more bizarre complaint one night at a private party. It was a busy Friday night and the birthday party in a private flat was the third assignment of the evening. I had discussed things with the host beforehand and everything had seemed perfectly normal.

  On arrival however, things began to get a little bizarre. Although I found the correct road, it was a new development made of 100s of blocks of flats. I couldn’t find any numbers to locate the flat. A phone call through to the host didn’t help much either as her directions were rubbish. Only after she emerged onto the street at about the fourth time of asking could I find them.

  On the way up to the flat, she asked me if I could get changed in the hallway. I explained that as I would be wanking I didn’t think that would be a good idea. She seemed somewhat shocked by this revelation and instead led me into the bedroom and promptly asked me if ‘I needed a hand’ with anything. Given what I had just told her and her tone, I took her comment to be highly suggestive

  ‘If you are asking whether I need anything else to get ready, I’m fine. If you want to stay and help, it would be gladly accepted’ I replied diplomatically.

  This wouldn’t be the first time an obliging host had helped get my dick hard. It is just another one of those ‘minge’ benefits that sometimes comes along with the job. Don’t get the wrong impression, 99% of assignments are strictly professionally conducted. I am not in this for the ‘perks’. If however, a lady makes a formal offer, it would rude to say no.

  In this instance I must have been too diplomatic. The Irish host was far from drunk (unlike the hen) and I think her question was far from innocent. If I had torn off her clothes and shagged her senseless there and then it might have been more agreeable to her. The fact I responded with such diplomacy seemed to raise her ire.

  Having spurned my offer to help increase my total cubic volume she went into the other room and left me alone to apply my own elastic bands. The act was completed with a strange air. The hen was far too drunk to r
emember much of what occurred. She seemed to sober up pretty quick when my cock appeared in her line of sight (she was on her knees at the time). Women react differently. At one extreme they react with delight and try and suck it dry. At the other extreme they react like they have just seen Freddy Kruger. This was more Freddy Kruger. So as not to offend I covered up, gave her a kiss on the cheek and closed the show. Half of the admittedly small audience seemed to have daggers in their eyes whilst the stench of hatred hung in the air.

  I emerged fully clothed to collect the remnants of my discarded attire. Two or three of the girls said they hoped I wasn’t in a hurry as they wanted to ask me some questions. This is normal (how did you get into this, how often do you do it, do you have another job, etc). The questions began normally enough but the tide soon turned. On a couple of previous occasions I have seen women turn quickly in their attitude. This occurs rapidly if I happen to mention that I have had a vasectomy. I don’t want children, I don’t like them and don’t want to be responsible for them. Call me selfish, but I want to be able to climb mountains, take risks and not have dependants who need me to live. The world is already heavily overpopulated and I shouldn’t needlessly add to that. Therefore, my behaviour is as much responsible as it is selfish. Anyway, I have watched on more than one occasion as I have turned with the utterance of one sentence, from potential father of their child to murderer of their unborn baby. Apart from causing some unnecessary illogical unpleasantness, it also ruined the chance of a shag with some delectable nubile young ladies. Therefore, I have stopped mentioning it in discussions.

  This time however, there was no mention of vasectomies. I merely answered the questions as asked. I used to have a well paid job but I elect to do this as an alternative. Suddenly and unexpectedly, one of the women went on the attack. Whilst commending me on my professionalism and a job well done, she said it had gone too far. Obviously I requested a more detailed explanation. Apparently, taking all my clothes off had offended some sensibilities. Amazingly the whole room rallied to her cause.

  I explained that the role of a male stripper is just that - to remove his clothes. Also, if they wanted me to keep my knickers on why had they requested me specifically to take them off ?. Despite logic chopping all of their arguments away, the claws were out and logic simply enraged them further. They had one detractor in their midst (an Australian Psychologist) who quite rightly asked what they were expecting when they hired a male stripper.

  ‘You haven’t hired him to do the washing up’ she quipped.

  As the argument became more heated I asked the two main detractors what they did for a living. I hazarded a guess at either PR or HR. Both the Irish host and her main ally, refused to confirm or deny whether I was close (arising suspicions that I may have hit the jackpot). They had certain mannerisms exhibited by protagonists of those two professions that I had encountered in my former life. Eventually, they asked me to leave. Of course, I did so without fuss. I had only stayed on at their request in the first instance.

  The Australian psychologist followed me out of the door only a minute later and we ran into each other as I was loading the car. Thankfully, she confirmed that I wasn’t mad, but they were. She hadn’t been in the country long and didn’t think she would be invited to any more parties within that group ! She also confirmed that one of my detractors was in HR and the other in PR !

  I have often described Ladies Nights as a ‘Get Your Own Back on Men Night’. That is the men are objects of hatred and humiliation for a room full of women. Part of that humiliation is the removal of all his clothes thereby making him more vulnerable. In these instances psychological domineering and taunting, free of any retribution, heighten the experience. This was one of those nights with bells on. It was a shame for them that the object of humiliation had a higher IQ and was therefore able to speak back !

  Chapter 15 - The role of Agents

  I really shouldn’t dislike agents. After all I used to be one. However, I hated being in recruitment and I hate recruitment consultants. Most are complete pricks who can’t spell professional let alone understand the meaning of it. Too many fit the stereotype of a fast talker in a sharp suit with a mobile phone stuck to their ear. If only they realized that repeat business is the key and they don’t get much of that by shafting everybody but themselves.

  Unfortunately it’s not just recruitment agents whose actions are questionable. All agents, in every line of work I have come across, have lacked professionalism and stripping is no different. Most agents have an agenda and couldn’t give a flying fuck what anybody else thinks or whether the customer gets what they sold them. There are a few exceptions to this, who have been the epitome of professionalism. It’s a shame these guys are members of an elite tribe

  Mostly agents just enhance the bad name of the industry. It is to my perpetual dismay that despite their poor performance, bookers of events continue to use their services. It is one of the great enigmas of this industry that poor performance is often met with continued delivery and acceptance. Personally, I’m a consumer champion. I challenge poor service or delivery and tackle it head on. A judge recently said in summing up against a retailer ‘unfortunately for you Mr Molloy is that one in 10,000 consumer who knows his rights and is willing to enforce them to the letter’. Whilst that may be true, I have long lamented that the British would rather lie down than complain. Alternatively, they will complain until their throat hurts in private, but never action anything to retribute against the offender. The stripping game seems to accentuate these points even further.

  There is a well known agent on the circuit who is famed for supplying strippers from £50 upwards. The granddad from eastern Europe who turns up (if he turns up), gets a tenner and a blow job if he is lucky. The agent takes the remaining deposit, usually by credit card. Consumers complain but never take any action. A few complained to the BBC who put him on their Watchdog programme. All that did was boost his sales. I have even had women contact me and ask for his number !!!

  I have turned up for jobs booked by some agents where the client has been given completely unrealistic expectations. I distinctly remember one strippergram in a Chicago Rock Café. The venue refused to play my music and forbade any nudity. I had to perform with very little space at their table. I made the best of a bad situation. The booking woman asked for a discount afterwards because the show wasn’t 30 minutes long as she had been promised! I obviously explained that she had been spun a line and that she had to take it up with the agent. I also, asked her if she could show me the contract that the agent had obviously supplied her with detailing what she could expect. Needless to say she didn’t have one. I tried to ask her what factors led her to book through the said agent, but I was met with an embittered response. I tried to explain that next time (highly unlikely) she should only book from someone supplying a contract. It no doubt fell on deaf ears. People have a moronic tendency to book with someone who gives the big talk but writes down nothing of their talk.

  So much of the industry is cash only. Many regular venues prefer this. It avoids any sort of employment legislation, National Insurance contributions, etc. Strippers are happy because they avoid income income tax and it doesn’t affect their benefit claims. However, bookings that are arranged in such a fly-by-night fashion also have a tendency to fall out of bed at a moments notice. No contract – no come back. I prefer to book direct in most circumstances. If the venue cancels at short notice I will charge them a cancellation fee as per the terms of my contract. If they don’t pay I take them to court. If an agent cancels at short notice they will usually attempt to wriggle out of all responsibility. Legally, it becomes a lot more complicated when a third party is involved and everybody denies responsibility blaming the other party. This makes it far more difficult to obtain the money.

  I take a very dim view of such short notice cancellations and I like the terms to be clear at the outset. Once I commit to a booking I begin to turn work away for that particular time and day. As a res
ult, a short notice cancellation means I have lost other potential bookings. In essence, the food has been taken out of my mouth. It grates me even more when flippant comments such as ‘this isn’t your real job anyway’ are offered as an excuse.

  The great irony of this is that the very same venues will often pay exorbitant fees for other artistes without question. One night there were four of us performing at a gay venue in Watford. They seemed reluctant to pay us the agreed fee in cash and instead wanted to pay us by cheque. The venue was owned by a large parent company so they were probably good for their cheque. However, the stripper known as Petrol had told them in no uncertain terms that he was going to take the till (by force if necessary) if they didn’t produce cash. Rather than risk Petrol igniting whilst still in the club, an underling was dispatched immediately to a cash machine. In the interim the manager told me the story of how they had recently had a Big Brother winner come and perform at their venue. She sung her one song (badly allegedly) and left immediately refusing to mingle or pose with punters. Alleviated of £7000 for the privilege, I put it to them that there was no way they could possibly justify that fee economically for a personal appearance. They didn’t generate anywhere near that amount from ticket sales on the door and would have been lucky to scrape it back on drink.