So, a full week after the raid, I am gainfully employed at a higher-end Manhattan club and generally very happy.
-There are a handful of old customers who I don't know how to get ahold of who won't be able to find me at my new joint.
-This club is pretty strict about scheduling, fees, fines, etc.
-I won't have as many irritating or disgusting stories to blog about.
-The DJ played "Breakfast at Tiffany's" once this week.
Needless to say, the pros are numerous. The club management treats us really professionally, and the physical layout of the space reflects that. I'm fairly certain (not sure yet) that there is no fucking or sucking happening in the club. Lapdances here are actual lapdances; at my old club, they were sitting on the guy's lap and grinding on him. That practice has come to a grinding halt at this new club, where you always keep one foot on the ground, 1950s sitcom style, during a dance. Money comes much more easily at this club, probably because it attracts a professional/touristy blend of customers. And three of my old customers have followed me to this new spot. All in all, I feel good. A week of work and not one guy has tried to get a tit in his mouth, a kiss on the lips, and definitely no one's tried anything below anyone's belt. I realize how different the job feels when it doesn't seem like Lapoeira .
I am sad because I miss my friend coworker from the other club. In the raid, everyone scattered, and she's working somewhere else now. I discovered the raid actually happened because of some discrepancy in the club blueprints or some BS, which to me sounds like code for cops have issues with this club, or something. I think the neighborhood's impending gentrification does not bode well for adult establishments in the area.