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entertainer,” the
MC says. The girls clap and cheer. He exits the stage with arms full of dollars
and makes his way to the back, where he is greeted by the dancers with high
fives. “Good job, bro,” the other dancers say.
    The MC comes onstage with some well-rehearsed witty lines
that always get a cheer. Then he yells, “You ladies want more?” The women scream
yes.
    The second guy comes out. Military act. Women always like
those. He stands at attention in his naval whites. The MC asks, “Who likes a
man in uniform?” He pauses.
    “Who likes a man out of uniform?” the MC yells.
    The music starts, and the girls almost can’t contain
themselves. He slowly takes it all off. The crowd gets louder and louder. Ten
minutes of dancing and taking money are never long enough. The MC calls him off
stage. And by this time, the crowd is in a frenzy.
    I’m in the dressing room adjusting the last articles of my
costume. My heart is racing. I hear the MC talking to the girls and making them
laugh with a funny story. The stage guy is setting things up for me, including at
dead center stage a wood log with a hole cut in the middle, which has a pan of
flammable liquid. The lights go down again. The MC yells, “Where’s all my
cowgirls tonight?”
    The uproar is the loudest I’ve ever heard. The MC says, “If
you like to get on top and ride all night long then you’re a cowgirl, so where
are my sexy cowgirls tonight? Make some noise!”
    It’s so loud now I can barely hear my music start. The MC
says, “Welcome out to the stage, Taylor Cole!” The music picks up, and I start to
make my way to the stage. Girls are touching me as I walk onstage. Some are so
nervous, I feel their hands shaking. I get to the main stage just as the beat
kicks in to the song, and the stage lights all go on. Every girl is standing
and shouting. “Take it off!” they repeat over and over. I kneel down to the log
and dip my hand in the liquid and, with a cigarette lighter, I light my fingers
and hold them in the air. Before it starts to sting, I put my hand in the log,
and all the alcohol lights up. Every light in the house goes dim, and now it
looks like I’m at a campfire. I lip-synch the words to the music, Bon Jovi’s Blaze
of Glory . The women are mesmerized by the flames, which light up my chest
and arms perfectly. The beat hits, and I rip off my shirt and throw it to the
crowd. They tear it into pieces fighting over it. I grab my lasso and spin it
around my head. The MC yells, “Who wants to be tied up out there?”
    Screams get louder than the music. I put the rope around a
girl’s head, wrap it around her body and pull her close. I grab the back of her
head and give her a kiss on the cheek while grinding on her. I spin her around
to unwrap her and go back to the fire. I dance behind the fire so it lights my
abs. I pull my belt off and slap it on the ground. The crowd throws money on
the stage. The crescendo of the song hits, and I rip off my pants. The place
goes nuts, and I start to walk to the edge of stage.
    I barely have time to dance because the audience is shoving
dollars in my underwear so fast. From one girl to the next, I let them touch
and rub against me. This goes on for ten minutes. I have the biggest smile ever
because they make me feel as if I’m on top of the world. I finish my set, take
off my cowboy hat and bow to the crowd in appreciation of the standing ovation.
The stagehand helps gather the money and we head to the dressing room.
    The next guy up stops me on my way back. He says, “Good job,
man.” I tell him it’s a great crowd, and he’s going to rock it. I stuff my
money in my suitcase and dry the sweat off. I can hear the intro to the next
guy, and the girls love it. A quick spray of cologne and it’s back to work.
Table dances for the rest of the show.
    Afterward, we all climb in the bus and start the drive to
the next town. We pull over at an all-night truck stop cafe. We count all our
tips to see who