Morning Starlet, Late Night Ghost – or viceversa

A brief remembrance – by Ari Fontrodona, March 2016 (partially translated from Catalan by me).

(I apologize for the several mistakes and inaccurate translation I posted yesterday; in fact, whole paragraphs got in here right from an uncorrected first draft. I have changed it now, but I’m sorry, because the original text did not deserve such a hasty treatment. So, sorry for you in the first place, Ari! – Li Fontrodona; September 9th, 2017.)

Late November, mid morning and no heating in the club beyond two small electric stoves in the common dressing-room. It’s just a rehearsal, but the wool sweater cannot be worn any longer. Although it has comforted for a while, the flesh –most especially, legs and buttocks– is tingling and tight with goosebumps.

In ten minutes we will be all hot, sweating and blushing. What a change!… No more cold until after the session (the showers are icy; the floor and the walls, and the water!) The streets at midday or early afternoon will be still cold too. And then, though well wrapped from head to toe, and somewhat recovered, I will be aware I am hungry; but too tired to have lunch; I have barely slept the night before (same job: a public function, and afterhours, another one –worse– with a private client), so, better go straight home and climb to bed. Sleep three or four hours…

Some of us (I for one) will have some dinner; others won’t, either because their freezer is empty for lack of time to go to the market, or because they are on a strict diet: a bucket of water, a dietetic candy bar and several vitamin pills that will burn inside the belly for hours.

As for diets… that girl here, pretty as she looks, healthy as she is, has to lose weigh soon if she wants to keep the job (she is tall, but sixty-four kilos and a pair of fleshy thighs –and medium-sized tits, not seen in the pic– are not competitive in this harsh business; she is doomed to starve, and she gladly will; the alternative being to walk the streets…, which is like hell itself, much like she already knows — like we all, more or less, know).

The sweaters used to be loans from a boyfriend or a male relative; they were long and sometimes heavy (with a zipper in front, to be taken off without messing up the hairdress and makeup) and covered the bottom and half of the thighs. The one in the pic above was not an exception; just pulled conveniently up for the photo. But the girl depicted, like every other one at rehearsals and most of the shows, does not go bottomless. She wears two layers of underwear: a colourful chic thong and an invisible, thigher underthong, sometimes plugged behind (yes: just there) and keeping some delicate bits tucked inside the body, and another bigger bit pressed against the perineum and backwards, between the buttocks. Sometimes, those “lucky” girls use strips of sanitary napkin and adhesive tape, especially when the back supporting-hole is already occupied by some fancy –fox-like or bird-like or bunny-like– tail. How “lucky” are they to look so foxy…, just like toys in a showcase, ready to be singled out and picked and, maybe, probably, hired.

Dancing while plugged this way was not really uncomfortable. Just ominously arousing for the repeated moving and thrusting of the plug against a most sensible point that trans-girls have. They had no visible erections, but often leaked, dripped, got wet and sometimes spurted, unawares, out of the thong and stuff. Not at all pleasant to keep on dancing –legs up and open, etc.– with some visible fluid coming down the legs. Even worse: if this happened beforetime, it was much more difficult to come over again when truly required and expected, in the second part of the shows (not always; but some high percentage were live sex-shows). Starletes were paid also for that; to do that in that moment, after having exhibited a surprisingly uplifted sensitive “tail” ready to respond to the interactions prescribed by the scripts and choreographies. Thanks God, in spite of everything, the public liked to see those incidental apparitions of fluid (and the previous and/or simultaneous blush on the girls’ faces), and sometimes applauded it. If so, the unfortunate over-aroused performer was dispensed, whatever she did or did not later on.

Bd-99-adj-b -des
Show-girl at work, fancifully illuminated

Some of them drank alcohol before functions, all of them took vasodilators (it’s really difficult to get horny –and stay so– upon a stage while standing up, moving fast, feeling strained and tired and sometimes breathless… Not easy to come over, either. In fact, this can be a big issue. Aside of the problem explained, showgirls performing sex on stage have also a personal life, mates with which they make love and have some real, deserved, pleasure… They usually do not renounce to this for the sake of readily coming at work… You renounce to sleep, and often to eat; you renounce to read and study (no time left!), but you do not become celibate at home to be more easily milked publicly by some colleague… And then, like I have already said, it was not as difficult to come over during rehearsals, with better mood, no audience and much less stress.

All of this meant just lots of this: stress; and also bodily fatigue, on top of the cold and, from time to time, the real frustration of being treated as cattle. Some exotic breed much solicited, but many times despised and abused; rarely regarded as sensible –and often quite fragile– persons. Salaries were fair at least, and starletes were told all the while that they were fortunate…, but, in the end, which was their fortune? … The only one that I can think of is of not having to walk the streets…, or better said: not as often and as dangerously as other trans-girls everywhere (instead, they were led in some taxi to a nice hotel or to private parties in their bosses’ apartments and/or their clients’ homes).

I was not an easy life. It was, quite literally, a fucking life.

To make the caption in the pic below more complete and explicit, I will say: Late night starlet – Early morning toy – Midday & afternoon ghost – Very stressed girl all around the clock – A sweetheart striving for a decent home and a loving family she won’t ever get.

TransArt Cabaret - star-Lra. ret 2 (2)
Late night starlet – Mid morning ghost – Stressed girl all around the clock – And a true sweetheart

[Any relationship between the comments posted here and the actual life of the author is either true or a mere coincidence : ) ]

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6 thoughts on “Morning Starlet, Late Night Ghost – or viceversa

  1. As difficult a life as this was…..for anyone involved…..she certainly put all her effort into it, even if her passion for it wasn’t always there. It wouldn’t be there for everyone, due to the unsavory characters she and others would periodically come across………

    Liked by 1 person

    1. That’s exactly so. Thanks for the feedback and empathy as always, John!
      Also I have to apologize for the several mistakes and inaccurate translation I posted yesterday (where whole paragraphs got in right from an uncorrected first draft), until my revision a short while ago. I’m sorry, because the original –bilingual- text did not deserve such a hasty treatment.
      Big Hugs! And all my concern and best wishes to all you in America about the Irma hurricane! Also I do really hope it does not reach your place.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Always my pleasure, sis!!!! And thank you for your thoughts on us over here regarding these nasty hurricanes…..Irma is not supposed to directly reach me where I live, but we will likely get some fallout from it in the form of rainy days…..The first one that damaged Houston hit hard emotionally, as I have relatives there, but thank God they are safe!!! Big hugs back to you!!!!

        Liked by 1 person

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