It's time to doxx Cox. I meant to do this one weeks ago, but every time I sit down and think about her, I get writer's block. Thinking about Cox is traumatizing. Cox was one of my least favorite coworkers. Pardon the delay. I fucking loathe her. Most dancers did. My remaining posts on Mouse's Ear Memoirs might be more spaced out. I'm getting into the more traumatizing coworkers who I don't want to think about. I don't want to spend the emotional energy on processing them, but they must be processed. The show must go on.

Justine Marie Cox danced at Mouse's Ear under the stage name Aspen. She started working there a little over a year before I did. Aspen has been mentioned in a number of posts already. She goes by Aspen Holiday on StripperWeb. Cox grew up in Apex, North Carolina. She claimed to be from a multi-generational wealthy family who owns a lot of properties throughout the Carolinas. She claimed to have an uncle who is a republican senator in North Carolina, but did not specify who he is. If any of my readers know who Cox's republican uncle senator of North Carolina is, please contact me. Justine Marie Cox shares many values of republicans, and supported a lot of Trump's policies. Cox was only in her early twenties during her time at Mouse's Ear, but most people thought she was much older. Her older boyfriend is named Tim Chrome James. Tim Chrome James became a parent young, and he already had grandkids, so Aspen called herself a grandmother. She was much more articulate than most of the dancers at Mouse's Ear. She expressed opposition to most social services, government assistance, public healthcare, student debt relief, and anything related to making life easier for poor people. If she was dumb and quiet, she'd be easy to dismiss. She was intelligent, evil, and gregarious. Aspen has many redeeming qualities, which made people listen to what she had to say. At times I enjoyed her company. Aspen's social skills made working with her all the more dangerous for my continued employment.

Cox's mother is a Chicagoland Sicilian. Her mother is also therapist. Cox strongly resembles the many fat Sicilian girls I had the misfortune of growing up attending school with. She is short, with a Venus of Willendorf body type, clear olive skin and long dark hair. She has sunken in eyes, a bubble nose, and a face typically found among the many Sicilians of Chicagoland. She sold a fair number of dances, and usually did well for herself. Politics aside, I thought it was cool that a Venus of Willendorf confidently did so well. Humankind has a diversity of preferences for body types, including preferences for fat chicks. A certain sector of customers will pay for fat chicks. Of course, looking at her made me think of Slimer from Ghostbusters oozing around, but I never said that out loud. She doesn't have kids, but Aspen has cellulite and stretch marks. Her ass is quite large, but not in a rap music video way; it's more of a Myrtle Beach poolside 65+ retirement community way.

Cox's house is in the Waynesville, North Carolina area. She has horses in Western North Carolina. She and her boyfriend would drive from Waynesville to Knoxville, and stay in a weekly suite together while she worked nights. She was very open about her lifestyle with coworkers. Aspen told me that sometimes she met with customers outside the club for “private dances,” with her boyfriend as the security guard. Normally dancers get shunned in our industry for admitting to such activities, but for some reason, Aspen got away with it. She also somehow got away with not having to accept drinks from the waitresses, while I had to sip pineapple juice.

On one of my first shifts at Mouse's Ear, Cox said to me at my locker with a smile,

“You're probably used to bigger clubs, you don't want to stay HEEERE!”

I actually did want to stay at Mouse's Ear. I don't like bigger clubs. She made that statement because it's the kind of territorial slight that fat little piggies make when they don't want to deal with competition. Cox shamelessly tried to discourage most new dancers from working at Mouse's Ear, and she would scold our coworkers who were nice to the newest ones by saying,

“Don't be nice to the new girls!”

Cox really didn't want new dancers to enjoy working at Mouse's Ear, unless they were fat or gave her drugs, then she was a bit nicer to them. Otherwise, she intentionally orchestrated discomfort for newcomers. She often made comments about my manner of fluttering around selling dances, stating that it was the result of working at larger clubs. She was wrong; most clubs around the country have dancers who operate the way I do. I prefer small-to-medium sized places to work. Aspen would do little territorial bitch things like pick up my shoes or underwear sitting on a chair and drop them on the floor. She always smiled when interacting with me, speaking in pleasant tones while saying and doing mean things. She often interrupted me with customers during one-on-one conversations, attempting to re-focus the conversation on her. That is a very abnormal thing to do in a strip club, but she did it with regularity to me and multiple dancers. Many of our coworkers disliked her for this, but they were simultaneously nice to her because she is engaging to talk to. She was disarming, in a weird mindfucking way that made a lot of people uncomfortable and confused. Eventually I decided that the best way to deter her from interrupting my customer conversations was to follow her around and sit down at tables where she was sitting with customers one-on-one. I don't normally do that, but for Aspen I made an exception. She strongly disliked that. My deterrent tactics often worked. Sometimes she'd initiate conversations with my customers DURING table dances I was giving, which was very bizarre, but again, not unheard of at Mouse's Ear. Sometimes she'd just sit and stare at me dancing for customers. Again, the only way I was able to get her to stop doing that was by doing the same things to her.

One time, Conner called Aspen “Ass Bomb” over the microphone. It upset her, so he stopped. I never insulted Aspen's body in the workplace. However, sometimes when Aspen interrupted one-on-one conversations between customers and dancers I disliked, I would sit there and think to myself, HAHAHA, YOU'RE GETTING ASS BOMBED! Aspen would just smile pleasantly and passive-aggressively, while whatever sad soul looked helpless about her sale being interrupted. Getting Ass Bombed sucks, but it was also funny to watch from afar. If I stood my ground and kept eye contact with a customer after getting Ass Bombed, completely ignoring her, the customer would almost always still get a dance from me and also ignore her. It was ridiculous that she did those things at all, but Ass Bombing was her modus operandi for some sick reason.

Aspen can be very personable and fun to speak with sometimes. If I was being especially harassed by the other dancers for making lots of money, Aspen would kindly tell me that she had a lot of the same problems. Some of the dancers with kids were hard on the high earners like Aspen and I, who didn't have kids to support. Some of them believed that us dancers without babies should've stopped making as much money, to step aside for the ones who didn't use contraceptives properly. Some of them believed that since they chose to have kids, they deserved top access to the cash flow. So, I did feel a bit of yuppie solidarity with Aspen. We both enjoyed spending our child-free time and money on things like vacationing, eating lots of food, taking care of animals, and making fun of dumb Tennesseans who believe in witchcraft. At the end of the day though, I didn't Ass Bomb my coworkers. I approached customers who were sitting by themselves. There was nothing wrong with my workplace etiquette. At the end of the day, I hated Ass Bomb for orchestrating shunning campaigns against the new dancers including me. At the end of the day, the financial situations outside of work were stark between Ass Bomb and I. I have very little in common with millionaire republicans from North Carolina who inherited homes and horses in their early 20s. At the end of the day, I’ll campaign for Bernie Sanders over forming any fucking alliance with Ass Bomb.

Becoming a stripper for Cox was more or less a touristy fun detour in her Carolina bourgeoisie life with horses and vacation homes. She grew up with her fat ass riding horses, training them, tending to them, exploiting them, and playing in stables. She became a drug addict in early adulthood and got arrested for whatever associated activities. She often discussed her arrests at work with amusement, and claimed to have pending charges which she was awaiting trial for. Discussing her charges usually made her giggle. Cox was often on the prowl for drugs at work. She evenly divided her time between being an aggressive hustler on the show floor, and being a dressing room hag. She and the other pill poppers often sat in their little nook area of the dressing room up some steps and away from the cameras, doing whatever it was that they did up there. I was never a part of these gatherings, except when I went to that area for microwaving my vegan entrees. The microwave was in the center of their nook, and I'd have to sit there for five minutes or so waiting for my food to finish warming up. With Cox's intelligence, engaging conversation and domineering nature, she was usually able to control other dancers enough to tell them to keep quiet while I was up there, because she didn't want me to know about what organized crime was going on. But, her friends were leaky, and sometimes I just quietly walked past her before she realized I was there.

Justine Marie Cox's opposition to worker rights was no good for me. She often encouraged our coworkers to “tip” the staff, contradicting my own values opposed to the extortion. She was aware of my lawsuits earlier than most people, but I don't know how she knew exactly. I know Alex Cave found my facebook and called me Brandi, and I know Lilith knew about some stuff. My blog was on private for a lot of my time at Mouse's Ear, so I don't know how much they read. My paperwork with photocopied ID was in the office, and I thought only the Brownings had access to it. I know there are people around the country who make phone calls nationwide to clubs to warn them about me, but I'm not sure how deep it goes. Aspen tried harder than she normally would to try to get me to leave, all with a smile on her face. She reported many of our conversations to Conner and the Brownings. She'd repeatedly complain about my hustling tactics to management. She seemed to enjoy engaging in pleasant conversation with me from time to time, then abruptly switching it up by shunning me, intentionally not talking to me, and instructing her drug friends, of which there were many, to also shun me. She informed me that she is “sweet” outside of work, and only behaves that way at Mouse's Ear to protect her profits. I think she's probably a low key sociopath who enjoys messing with people's heads, and has some skills doing that gleaned from her therapist mother.

Aspen and Lilith were very close at work, due to their shared interest in drugs, controlling social situations, and triangulating. Lilith told me that she used to be two-hundred pounds before going on a diet and becoming fit, so they had a fat girl bond when they first met. Aspen is a frenemy though, so she sometimes made Lilith cry by taunting her with classist remarks about being an inbred Harlan hick. They'd go through bouts of not speaking. Aspen and Raven were quite chummy at work. They sometimes discussed their mutual love of horse riding, horse breeds, and tending to horses. I was disgusted to hear about exploiting horses, although I have noticed that the kinds of people who are into horse exploitation are shitty humans in general.

After I was nice to Bunny at work, Aspen would encourage people to bully Bunny. After they were done bullying Bunny, Aspen and Lilith would do things like invite Bunny to after-work breakfast, stare at me, not say anything, and not invite me. It was just bizarre bitchy psychological warfare in pathetic catty ways. I befriended a dancer named Brandy at work, who Aspen would track down and tell to not speak with me. Brandy was a recovering addict who had access to prescription pills, and Aspen badgered her for them. Aspen, like Lilith, would try to prevent interactions I had with coworkers. I was never able to discern if their main motivations had to do with my potential lawsuit, their desire to protect workplace profits, workplace organized crime, or simply to shun someone who did not obey their weird controlling bullshit.

Normally I collect money before a dance begins, because that is the only guarantee I have to prevent a customer from ripping me off. It's an important practice to prevent sexual assault, as customers who wait to pay after a dance are more likely to hold payment hostage. Aspen noticed that I require payment up front, and criticized me for it, calling me “too abrasive” with customers. She noticed that I wouldn't put up with verbal or attempted physical assault from customers, by backing away from them or asserting myself. She'd go out of her way to slander me for setting good boundaries to protect myself. Her physical boundaries were not as strict as mine. She would be nice to the most grotesque, harassing, Bourbon swilling, wealthy, drunken Southern republicans available, who'd attempt to paw at dancers in disgusting ways. She'd criticize me for fighting back if a customer behaved in such ways.

What I disliked most about Aspen is that she knew better than a lot of dancers regarding things like science, witchcraft, marketing, and social interactions related to power. She'd mock the dancers who said I am a witch. She very astutely pointed out that a lot of the dancers accusing me of being a witch were also “witches” themselves who were interested in spells. She suggested that I was simply a more powerful witch than them-- all in a jesting tone because she did not believe in any such things. But, she also understood that ostracizing me would be a great way to protect her profits. Rather than kindly protect me, she protected the Brownings, her access to drugs, her access to customers, and her social position. She and the Brownings laughed and joked together with regularity. One time Ralph playfully put his lighter up to her butt like he was going to set her on fire, she giggled and swatted him away. Normally when strip clubs are sued for misclassification, they will find a few dancers to lie in testimony for them if a case goes to trial or arbitration. I often worried that Aspen would be one to testify on behalf of Mouse's Ear.

Dancers were not as mean to Aspen as they were to me, even though Aspen actually did “cut throat” them all the time by interrupting their one-on-one conversations. Many dancers stated that they “hate” Aspen, but she was gregarious enough to get them to be friendly with her anyway. She also created alliances with dancers who were previously mean to her, such as Selexa. Dancer Brandy suggested to me that our coworkers were not as harsh with Aspen because she is a fat chick who is “not pretty,” and so they were not threatened by her. Brandy's double-standard theory may be true. I don't know. One time I walked upstairs and overheard Aspen saying that she dislikes Heidi. When Aspen noticed I heard her, she exclaimed, “OH SHIT.” I didn't tell Heidi, but I did think it was interesting that Aspen made such a statement, when Heidi was always willing to lend a helping hand to Aspen in a Christ-like manner. Aspen expressed discontent for a lot of our coworkers while simultaneously spending time with them. It was very annoying and confusing to be around all of that. All of this probably sounds like very trite workplace minutiae, but these are the kinds of things that were a constant background noise in the workplace when not hearing the music.

Aspen had knee problems throughout the entire time that I worked at Mouse's Ear. I think she went to have surgery at some point. She also complained about having dental problems and having to pay for her dentist visit. I am curious to know what her financial situation was in relation to her wealthy immediate and extended family. She made many references to wealth reserves of unimaginable proportions. She also said something about being temporarily cut off from inherited assets after her criminal charges, and having to pay for her own medical expenses out of pocket. If anyone knows the details, please email me. Whatever the case may be, Justine Marie Cox's fat ass needs to be roasted on a platter and fed to the omnivorous proletariat. Eat the rich. Fuck this bitch and the horse she rode in on.