Thursday, March 16, 2006


It's all about the girls swinging around the pole and the guys watching them.

But while everyone is preoccupied with Oz, they never notice the man behind the curtain or, in this case, standing in a shadowy corner of the club, surrounded by computers and video monitors and racks of CDs. They never get the third side of the story, the one told by the men whose job it is to prolong the fantasy--and inflate the bar sales while they're at it. These men (and, yeah, they're almost always men) are equal parts parent, party host and program director and, in many ways, they're the engine that makes this little red Corvette run. They are DJs.

The life of a strip club DJ is not the endless party people might expect. It's not illicit hand jobs and once-an-hour spins of Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me." Despite the constant presence of women in various states of undress, it's not a very sexy gig. After a few hours on the job, the women all begin to look alike. Plus, there's too much work to do, between running the lights and keeping track of the order of dancers and making sure the computer is running properly and, oh yeah, playing a new song every three minutes or so. As for drinking and drugs? Well, you try making it through a 7 p.m.-to-4 a.m. shift while maintaining a buzz.

"You're here to pump up the crowd, play the right music and deal with about 50, 60 girls a night," ~~~~ "That's a job."
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