TakeItOff (2 page)

Chapter One: From Shy Guy to Hot Stud

You might be surprised to hear that a lot of strippers start
out as nice, quiet guys who are too shy and too lacking in confidence to
approach women. That was pretty much the case for both of us.

Justin: Boys Just Wanna Have Sex

I traveled the world with my family
twice over by the time I was twelve. Born in Vietnam, I lived in Saudi Arabia,
Iran and Vietnam. I knew at an early age that traveling was a must in my career
as well as my life. I wanted to experience all the different cultures. At
twelve, I moved to Milton, Florida, a small town in the Bible Belt, and all I
wanted to do was break up the monotony of everyday life. It was there that I
made a pact with myself. I would not choose the beaten path of life. I would
choose fun, love and great memories. I watched life wear my father down and
thought if that would be my fate for choosing a normal life, then why not have
a blast before then?

When I was twelve or thirteen, a group of my friends and I
sat around a campfire in an open field one night. Like any other bunch of
prepubescent boys, we asked the question, “If you could be anything in the
world, what would you be?” As if it were yesterday, I remember saying, “A male
stripper!”

At that age, all I thought about was girls and how I wanted
to have sex with them, even though I had no clue what to do if I had that
opportunity. I figured a male stripper had direct and easy access to girls. Why
I didn’t want to be a rock star, movie star or professional athlete is beyond
me. Those were the simple answers to getting girls. I guess I was not simple.
Looking back now, I’m so very glad of that fact.

I hit the gym full speed as soon as I got in college. I
never looked back. During the first years, as my body became more muscular, all
I wanted to do was compete in natural powerlifting meets and natural
bodybuilding shows. (Natural powerlifting and bodybuilding events are those in
which participants do not use performance-enhancing drugs.) I started to set
bench press records for the state and win overall in my bodybuilding shows.

But I still wanted to be a dancer, so at nineteen I gave it
a shot. I was as green as you could get and I didn’t have any connections. I
was just a small-town boy who wanted to make it in the big city.

Amateur night is where anyone who wants to be hired as a club
dancer must win the contest. Club owners tell all the contestants this, but in
reality, only guys off the street who have never danced have to go through this
hiring process. Veterans move freely from club to club via connections through
clubs or other dancers they worked with.

My first competition was one I will never forget! I packed
my dance bag with my Rico Suave wannabe outfit and drove two hours from my
college campus to compete in an amateur night. I chose the name Mr. Suave. Rico
was already a current dancer’s name, so I had to have some link, I thought, to
the famous Gerardo. Why I didn’t choose Gerardo, once again, is beyond me.

I arrived at the club around 9 p.m. The contest began around
eleven or twelve. I watched the entertainers and thought, “What am I doing
here?” Then I saw the list of competitors, and I thought I could at least get
second place. There were about ten of us, and my goal was just to get hired! We
drew lots, and I was fourth up. My nerves were about to get the best of me. My
only competition, so I felt, was a guy who looked as if he was a seasoned
veteran. One guy walked with a severe limp and was about fifty, and another
looked like Vanilla Ice’s younger brother. Most of them were average-looking
dudes with big goals.

Each guy got one song to showcase his skills. Although mine
were very limited, I had false confidence I could do well.

At the end of the contest, they called each of us up to get
applause. My pride was wounded because the guy with no legs beat me! Yes, no
legs! I thought the old dude with the limp went to take off his pants, and
instead, took off both his legs! Seriously, the guy was walking around on nubs
just below the knee caps.

I took third place, but I got hired, so I felt as if I won.
I came back to the club the next week to start working and made a grand total
of negative five bucks! I had to tip out the stage coordinator and DJ. Thus I
spent more than I made. This convinced me to go back to the college dorm and
rethink my plan of becoming a male stripper. I wouldn’t finally break through
and make dancing a career until six years later—two years after I graduated
from college.

At twenty-four, I was ready. By that time I had the
confidence that I could do it, so I quit my bartending gig (where I was making
a grand a week) and jumped in full time.

The early months were all about being broke, working out,
eating right, chasing girls and trying to feel like I belonged onstage. The
parties and antics really started when I befriended a nineteen-year-old guy
from the gym. This guy, Taylor Cole, became my wingman, and a lifelong
friendship began. Together we got into more antics and had more fun than we
ever imagined possible. Our lives would never be the same. They say you make
your best friends in high school or college. Well, we made our strongest
friendships and bonds in dancing. These guys were some of the most colorful
characters I will ever meet!

I found early success on the main stage. My dance ability
was limited on freestyle, but I found I could easily learn an eight-count. All
dance acts are choreographed with eight counts. Not until Taylor and I changed
to another club after six or eight months at the first club did we step up our
game. At this point, I had appeared in a few magazines and the owner of this
other club was really trying to get me to switch. I almost backed out that day
we were to start at the new club, but Taylor wouldn’t let me. Through life, we
have always helped each other make the right decisions, and this was one of
them! He said, “Let’s go! It’s the better club and it has way more women!”

Immediately, I was put up during prime time. I was still a
rookie and the show was very, very strong, which forced me to really step it
up. My sets were consistently full, and I made most of my money on my stages.
The owner liked the fact that I was on the cover of
Playgirl
and carried
myself like I treated the job professionally.

Out of twenty to twenty-five guys, I was the only one with
Sundays off. I had told the club owner my terms up front before taking the job:
If he wanted me to come over to his club, I needed Sundays off to spend with my
girl. He agreed. The guys never gave me grief about it either. They wished they
could have Sundays off too, but they figured good for me.

For the first four or five years, I was still doing
bodybuilding shows too, so I would work for five to six months and then take off
two to three to get ready for bodybuilding shows.

At twenty-eight, I decided to try the Houston LaBare, so I
packed my stuff, moved and started the prime of my career. The Houston list was
the best lineup I ever had the privilege to work with. The parties, the women,
the traveling, the lifestyle!

Justin

Taylor: The Thrill of a Lifetime

One day, as a kid, I was dancing around to music, and my mom
said, “You look like you’re going to be a LaBare dancer.” At the time, I didn’t
understand LaBare was a famous male strip club in Houston. I pictured a team
mascot in a bear costume, jumping around on a football field.

The next time I heard about LaBare was in high school. I
lived in a small Texas town and started working out to try to impress girls.
Like any teenager, that’s all I cared about. A guy who was graduating got a job
in the big city at a club called LaBare. All the girls swooned over him when he
cruised through town at 3 a.m. in his sports car with a fat wad of cash he just
made.

Then it hit me…LaBare. That’s what my mom was talking about!
I knew I wanted to go there, but more important, I knew I wanted to drive a
fast car and attract attention from girls and have a lot of cash. When I turned
sixteen and got a license, I went straight to LaBare. It was amateur night, and
I thought I was ready. I signed up and won that night—but not because I was
good. The homeless guys in the neighborhood saw the cash prize sign and were my
competition. As the only guy who wasn’t a bum, I won first place!

I went to the manager and asked for a job. He looked at me
and said, “Kid, you’re too young to be in here. Come back when you’re legal.”

After that, I blew off the idea of working as a dancer.
Truthfully, I didn’t think I could ever compete with the guys I saw working
that night. Two years and several dead-end construction jobs later, I met a guy
at the gym who became like a brother to me. He said I should try getting a job
where he worked, at a male dance club. He said he could get me on, and the next
day, I started the most exciting rollercoaster ride of my life. I’m still on
it, and I still love the thrill of it all.

The feeling of doing a great show is like a drug and can be
just as addictive. All you want to do is try a little bit harder, dance a
little bit smoother, and get a couple more screams from the crowd. It’s been
fifteen years and the feeling is exactly the same. I still get excited on
Saturday night when I’m about to walk out onstage. You step out and the roar
from the girls is music to your ears. Every time I’m doing the Ariel silks
show, and I spin up to the ceiling and end in the iron cross pose, I look into
the spotlight, and I can see only the white glare from it. I feel its warmth on
my face. I hear the cheers and think to myself, “I wish I could stay here
forever.”

Being a good male dancer has been one of the hardest things
I have ever done. It’s challenging physically and even more so mentally. But it
has also been the most fun thing to conquer. It’s hard for someone who hasn’t
been in the business to understand. It may seem cheesy or meaningless. But for
a young, shy boy from a small town, it’s like scoring the winning touchdown
during the Super Bowl. There were many times I thought I wasn’t good enough and
should quit. But I kept chugging along because that’s how much I wanted it. And
now, after all these years, I’m so glad I did. It’s been such a great
experience. I got to see the world, make a lot of great friends, hang out with
famous people and do things that would never have been possible if it weren’t
for being a male dancer.

Dancing has been a nonstop adventure from day one. It’s
taken me places I never thought it would. It’s had its ups and downs like
anything else, but for me it has definitely been a positive experience. Now
that I’m in the later part of my career, it is time to look to the horizon and
see what else is in store for me. Luckily I was smart with my money. I built my
house myself, which is a tradition for all the men in my family. So it and all
my vehicles and land were paid for in cash. My construction company is doing
well and I have a few more irons in the fire. That will hopefully carry me to
my next chapter in life worry-free. As for the future, all I want is happiness.
In the end what else could I ask for? The moral? Don’t just dream your
dreams—live them! No matter what they are! Anything is possible with a positive
attitude and a strong motivation.