Private Dancer Media Network

There we were back in Pittsburgh again. The Schevelle and Batman Strip Club Tour came full circle with the club Blush, this being the second time to the fine establishment. I have been going there for a couple of years so now I am learning things only locals know, like how they are all thinking about making a Mass Exitus to the south because they were snowed in the whole month of February, or that Pamela’s serves the best breakfast all day, even Obama thinks so. I always knew they were a big sports town, which was evident the first time they figured out I was from Texas. “Ah, you’re not a Cowboys fan, are you?” This came out more like a statement rather than a question. And I continued to learn while I was there, starting off with it was cold…still.

Perhaps this perpetual state of cold explained why everyone proclaimed that this was the last winter they would spend there. There was a sense of “I need to escape,” a general feeling of being pissed off about the weather. “I can’t take another winter like this past February.” I didn’t want to be the one to tell them about global warming and how it actually makes the weather patterns more extreme in the winter each year. I gathered the bitter weather was the reason for an overall bitter attitude that loomed.

The week at Blush always starts off hectic, even if Albert puts you in a plush hotel. It’s hectic because we drive in to town the day the booking starts, which is difficult to do when you work out and dance for twenty minutes straight on stage for multiple shows…in heels. This is how it works: drive in, get checked-in, deal with doorman and bellman that each want a tip, get valet guy away from your car because “We will park it, thank you” (enough with the tips already), get stuff unloaded in room, work on computer for one to two hours, change clothes and workout for hour and a half, take showers, walk to Subway for sandwich, come back to room and work on computer until Kyle calls and picks us up, go to club, do first show, work on computer, do second show, promo, then go back to hotel and pass out. Start day two.

The weather was great on the second day, but because we spent so much time driving, we had a lot to catch up on and spent the whole day inside on the computer. In my southern ignorance of bad weather I thought, “We’ll get another pretty day and then we can walk around.” Obviously, I still have much to learn about Pittsburgh because the weather immediately changed and it dropped to the 40s.

I was backstage before one of my shows and the house dancer before me came off stage. She began to straighten her dollars and then put step into her thong. She looked at me.

“How you doin tonight?” I asked.

“It’s alright. Thank God for regulars, right? You the feature? Where are you from?”

“Texas,” I answered.

“Oh. Figures. You look like you’re from Texas.”

I am never sure how to take this statement so I asked, “What do you mean?”

And she said, “Ya know, you have the blond hair and you smile a lot. You’re all happy and shit. Like they are in the south.” I went out on stage laughing. The house girls can tell you a lot about the area you are in, even if you only talk to them for a few moments.

We crept closer to the Friday from hell. The Thursday before we finished our last show around 1:30-1:45 a.m., slept, then woke up around 9:30 a.m. to get going on some work before heading to the club for a 12:30 show.

After that we pigged out at Pamela’s. This is a popular restaurant that Kyle took us to, which is in the strip district of Pittsburgh and a stop during Obama’s campaign tour. Dawn, our photographing, world traveling waitress took care of us and I ate a Michael Phelps size veggie omelet with about a pound of potatoes. Then it was back to the club for four more shows, which ended the twelve-hour club day, and yes, those heels hurt by the end of that day.

There was a Mary Kay convention going on simultaneously as a Dog Show in the adjoining convention center. There were women with big make-up and big hair and little dogs running around everywhere. I felt like I was back in Texas. I made the mistake of complimenting a woman in the elevator and she tried to sell me about fifteen skincare products before we got to the ninth floor. I all but ran out of the elevator. Then I told one lady that her dog was cute, and she stood very tall and straight and said, “Her name is Pookie, but her registered title is Octavius Riley.” “Ooohhhhh,” I said, making a mental note. “Don’t talk to anyone else in the elevator.”

In closing ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have to say that Pittsburgh people are brazen. Seriously, they don’t even look across the street before walking. We were sitting at a red light and there was a cab in the lane next to us. The light turned green and we both went forward. Right then a lady began to cross the street at a full speed walk right in the path of the cab, who immediately stopped and let her pass. She also stopped… and began to rip into the cab! How dare he drive during a green light, I mean really, the nerve.

I think there was an overall feeling of ‘get us the hell out of winter and into spring already.’

Hang in there Pittsburgh, I know your springs and summers are green and vibrant. And as for the mad walking woman, maybe a sexual release is in order. We do have an in with the sex toy company the Screaming O.

Schevelle is an award-winning feature entertainer and a Private Dancer Magazine cover model for November 2007. She contributes regularly to the Private Dancer Media Network as well as Private Dancer Magazine. You can find more on Schevelle by going to www.Schevelle.com/ or follow her on twitter at www.twitter.com/TheSchevelle.