Tip Drill Changed My Life!

“Get over here. I want to show you something.” It was late 2003 and I seriously couldn’t wait to get over to Gary’s apartment. I knew he had something good in store for me. He was just wonderful at putting together the best dates. Yes, I was young, but well aware of what a perfect date consisted of. My mom has been taking me out on dates ever since I was old enough to read the menu. You see, my dad is a picky eater. So whenever my mom wanted something other than spaghetti or pork chops, I was always on dinner date standby. I dressed in tight blue jeans and a heather gray tube top to meet Gary. I was positive we weren't going anywhere special that evening. Thinking back, I should have worn my Sunday’s best. Gary was definitely about to take me to church, right there in his living room on a flat screen boosted right out of Wholesale Corp. Don’t ask me about that shit right now. That crazy story is for another day. No, I didn’t get a new tv out of him, and yes one of our co-workers did go to jail behind that shit…

Anyway, back to Gary’s living room. I was handed a rum and coke along with some chips and guacamole. I used to drink rum all the time before I became of drinking age. I can’t explain why. My best guess is that rum is cheaper and lighter than other alcohols. It’s like the gateway liquor. Once I turned twenty-one, I ditched the rum for vodka. Okay, that’s a lie. I had a short stint with 151 back in the day until this guy turned his nose up at me and said “You know they make sherm with that!” I gave it up, cold turkey, that day. Gary fumbled around with the television set for about a minute. I tried my hardest to look around his body planted in front of the screen, but I was getting nothing but a neck strain. I reclined back on the couch and chomped on another chip. ‘Patience is a virtue,’ they say. Crazy that I can mention virtue while talking about a ratchet ass music video. A video that could only be played in the wee hours of the morning. But I’m so serious when I say Tip Drill gave me the twelve virtues of Aristotle! Well, maybe not all twelve, but hear me out.

I was a fairly new dancer at the time. Less than six months. I’d never even been inside a Black strip club before. I’d become accustomed to being the token black stripper in every club I worked in. Even at the larger clubs that I’d found myself in, only a select few of us were hired. Not only was I inexperienced at the club, but I hadn’t watched a music video in years. I’ll never forget. It was the summer in between ninth and tenth grade. I was posted up in my bedroom playing cable commandos, switching between BET and MTV every other song. My big sister popped her head in on me. She only stopped by to steal groceries out of our mother’s refrigerator. “What you doin’ today?” she asked while leaning on the door frame. I never even looked away from the tv. “Nothin’” I picked up the remote and flipped the channel once again. She smacked her teeth and left my room. My sister stayed in my business. Hours had passed. I don’t even remember getting up to go pee. Here comes my nosey ass sister, back again. Typically, she would come in from a date and drop some gems on me. Like the time she came over pissed TF off. She damn near kicked my door in. “Whenever you get in a dude’s car, make sure you watch your surroundings! Memorize all the landmarks you can! I don’t give a fuck how well you think you know him!” ‘Ohh Okay. That’s why she’s so mad and sweaty looking…’ I laughed to myself. Some nigga must have put her out of his car. This was one word of advice I thought my fine ass would never have to put to use. But…years later, the memorization game would come in handy for me. My ex husband Lamar had put my ass out. Nowhere near my house I might add. Getting left by your fiancé twenty miles away from home hits different without the Uber app. But that’s also a story for another day. Well big sis had no gems to hand out this time. Only ridicule. “You still in here watchin’ videos? GET A LIFE!” She didn’t mean to. If you know Cancers, they get mad and lash out at everybody. She did hurt my feelings though. I never watched another music video again. I felt like my sister thought I was childish. I always wanted to appear “grown up” to her.

I thought Tip Drill was a comedy special when it first came on. Soon after, I had a mix of emotions running through me as the music video was finally cued up for us. I felt like my sister would burst in at any moment to talk shit to me. But I relaxed after seeing fine ass Nelly and the even finer Murphy Lee. He was my whole type back in the day! And then, my eyes finally caught up with the girls. Why was my brain moving in slow motion? While I was still trying to figure out if Kings of Comedy had a part two that I somehow missed, a thong bikini clad model switched right by me on screen. These weren't the kind of dancers I was used to. Never had I seen so many black women in one spot! Not on a video shoot and definitely not at the strip club. Doing dances I’d never seen before. All that ass shaking wasn’t allowed in Orange County or The Valley. I was completely mesmerized before minute two even came about. And one of the girls was completely naked! I wondered how much extra she got paid…and if I could ever be bold enough to cup my own pussy with my hand on camera. All this time, I’d been debating on if I should go under the knife to get a boob job. I wanted to look more appealing to the particular environment I’d placed myself in. I hadn’t spotted one Black chick yet with anything larger than a C cup. I’d gone about this stripper thing all wrong. I searched long and hard to find the “me” in Tip Drill. Yes, I absolutely believe I spotted her. I found a ponytail toting slim-thick chick after studying the video for the fiftieth time, but the truth of the matter was, they were ALL ME! Black, natural, having fun, and making money off of the fellas. This is the video after my very own stripper heart. I made the appropriate changes the very next week. Found a new club in Downtown Los Angeles where I wasn’t the only black face in the room. The money was different, I have to say. Every so often I’d luck up on a white guy or a lost black guy that would make being “the token” worth while. But things were more consistent at Jade Appeal Gentlemen’s Club and I made a lasting friendship in Portia. I actually need to check in with her to make sure she didn’t burn herself with those illegal fireworks. My mom got got just last year.

One thing Tip Drill did not do was change my dancing style. For years, I pranced around like the oreo I was groomed to be in Orange County. I wish I would have studied that aspect of the video a little harder. I was forced to switch from the long weaved acrobat to a bouncin’ in the split veteran by the mean girls in this East Atlanta strip club I started juggin’ in. They weren’t really mean girls if I’m being honest. They just had a different standard for their stage sets. And I had no clue how to keep up. I’m a quick study, thank God. After a couple months I went from the out of towner that nobody wanted to dance with, to the California chick all the old heads wanted to be on stage with. That was a crazy year if I must say so myself! What old memories does Tip Drill drum up for you? Or is there another song that you consider a part of your coming out story? Let me know at jualeeah@jualeeworld.com or JualeeWorld@yahoo.com I can’t wait to hear from you!