Pole Burn: Makin’ Money

Pole Burn is an autobiographical series based on one woman’s experience as a stripper in New York City and Miami over a period of nearly seven years. Pole Burn traces her inner and outer misadventures as she is forced to confront people’s assumptions about sex workers as well as her own perception of others and herself. The format and tone of the series were inspired by the book The Dark Fields of Venus by Basile Yanovsky, M.D.


The Indian likes me. His friend, an Italian, just seems to like to talk. The Indian clarifies that he is a native New Yorker, from Connecticut, where, according to him, everyone, “smokes weed and fucks.”

Am I into BDSM? “Excuse me?” I reply.

“Are you… oh never mind. You look so pure, so innocent. How old are you?”

I had thought up a new response to this oft asked question: “Why is it that inside these walls, all sense of etiquette is lost?”

He is caught off guard and boasts that he is 37. What do I do? Just to fuck with him, I say, “I want to start a cult.” He says he thinks this is really cool.



“How many kids you got?” mouthed this Puerto Rican kid I was talking to. He’s a mail clerk and estranged babydaddy.

Amused, shocked and almost offended I paused and joked back, “Oh, no, it’s that I just ate.”



A little joke/quiz: What’s worse than a douche bag that goes to trashy strip clubs?

A douche bag that goes to trashy strip clubs and DOESN’T FUCKING TIP!!


An older gentleman, white, stands with his mouth agape as I swivel my hips around in my schoolgirl skirt. He is a chemical engineer. That’s all I remember about him from the last time I talked to him. He invites me for a drink and I fill him in on my life while I sip a straight soda, as if I were talking to my grandfather. He tells me where a man can get the most out of a stripper (Long Island) and how worrisome it would be if one of the monitor video tapes made its way onto the internet. We agree that the comfort of being monitored while alone in a room with a man outweighs the fear of potential humiliation. He recommends a 37 minute sail boat tour on the other side of town. He slips me a twenty saying, “You’re such a nice girl.”



Fuck! I think I’m crippled! Wearing these fucking shoes for 7 hours a day really fucks your feet up! Seriously, I can hardly walk! My feet have turned into meat stumps!