Friday, January 19, 2007

like water down a drain

I swear, whoever said srippers make pots of money has something to answer for. Because since that myth came about, everyone wants a slice of the pie - and as the yaers have gone on, the bites just keep on getting bigger.
Tonight, as I sit here eating pasta leftovers, I look in my bag and see £300. cash. £295 to be exact. You know how much of that I will get? £120. tops.
When I started a bag like that was worth £215. take off taxi and tax and you are looking at £180. So in 5 years of dancing inflation is up, my rent is up, my costs are up - the tube and taxis are definately up - yet my bag is worth less. MUCH LESS
ANd of course now I am at uni - and did I mention that my boyfriend - who has been a domineering knob recently and somehow subconciously turns me off work.... is out of work himself. Thats the building contractor trade for you.
So less money, more expense.
In the good old days, it was house fee - £85, every night, as soon as you walked in. 10% off the club funny money. No hassle. You knew whre you stood. If you couldn't work hard enough to get that cost price, tough!!
then it was 20%, plus the £85. Didn't ask, just changed it. the contract, the rules, just gone. "Lets have a meeting and tell all 200 odd of you how you will be working in the future."
Then it was an extra £90 out of every £300 if you got a nice , good pay windfall sit-down customer.
Now - after another one-way street of a meeting - its a third off everything.
Again, so less money, more expense - ans so many new rules we cant relax - and neither can you!!
How is a customer or me gonna relax if you have to dip ur hand into ur pocket every 15 mins - you don't and we gotta move on baby, or face a nice old 1/3 of projected $$ fine.
If I am late = FINE
dace close = FINE
even ....chewing gum = FINE

oh just leave me alone and let me do this shitty long hours talk to drunks job will you. IN PEACE

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