What StripperLaborRights.com series would be complete without a post about the piece of shit DJ involved in my rights violations, harassment and termination? Teazers had a morbidly obese DJ named Dennis, and this one goes out to him.

I wish I had a photo of Dennis to post on here, but can only describe him with words. He is a bald, fat white man from Memphis. He is in his late twenties or early thirties, with a Southern twang and sweet disposition. He had some sort of goatee that he frequently, pathologically caressed during times of excited conversation.

I was nice to Dennis for most of the short time that I worked for Teazers. His wife had recently died of cancer, which left him a single parent to a litter of children who he and his wife produced during her short time on Earth. I handsomely tipped Dennis out of pity. He was very poor and financially needy.

Dennis’s sister was a cook at Teazers. She got paid an hourly wage, but occasionally gave customers lap dances, because she did not give a fuck about the worker rights of dancers, and was willing to skim off our profits when not cooking food in the kitchen. When I was giving my affidavit for Teazers, the NLRB examiner and I had a good chuckle about how gross it was that Dennis’s sister was dry humping customers in between frying things up in the kitchen. Dennis’s sister was upset with me after I asserted my rights to Diamond, and expressed her dismay with glares and gossip.

Dennis and I had a business arrangement worked out where I would carry around a bucket for a song or two, asking customers for tips to the DJ. Dennis would then give me half of his tips that I collected for him, excitedly expressing how thankful he was for me to collect like seven dollars for him or whatever. I felt nothing but pity that this paltry sum caused him such joy. Eventually Diamond saw what Dennis and I were doing, wanted to triangulate, felt threatened, and banned us from doing that.

Like most strip club DJs, Dennis was a two-faced shit talker who did his best to stay afloat socially and exploit everyone for tips. Dennis would regularly tell me all sorts of things about Diamond ruining all joy, attractiveness and profits in Teazers. However, Diamond’s dancer friend Daisy paid him money to play songs I didn’t want to dance to on stage and bully me over the microphone. Dennis would have done almost anything for money in that place, including bothering me with songs, in a way that caused me to assert my labor rights and get fired. The details are in the affidavit and I do not wish to dwell on them any further, so I will end the post with this— perhaps if Dennis lost some weight and gained some skills, he could join a Memphis labor union to support his starving children, so he wouldn’t have to drive out to Camden on the weekends scrounging for bucks and being an asshole on the microphone while his sister dry humps losers right next to him.