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                Issue #1,  February 28, 1998 (Excerpt)
 

Feature Article: "Bachelor Party Surveillance" 
  w/The Memoirs of An Exotic Dancer Turned P.I. 
  by: Joanne Waldron (memoirs by Gabrielle unedited). 



Bachelor Party Surveillance: 

While surfing the net and reviewing web sites of some private investigators, I noticed that 
some of them advertised that they did "bachelor party surveillance".  As a woman, I've 
always kind of wondered what went on at those things; so, I posed some questions to 
some private investigators that participate in an Internet e-mail discussion group.  I had 
actually attended one bachelor party, but the groom was going to be married to a 
minister's daughter.  Therefore, I assumed that this party might not be typical of what to 
expect.  Oh, there was significant beer drinking, some poker playing, and a nasty video 
viewing - nothing too unexpected.  There were no strippers or dancing girls.  Were all 
bachelor parties this tame?   What happens at bachelorette parties?  Here's what some of 
the private investigators had to say... 

A male private investigator, D.H., told me that he once did surveillance on a bachelor 
party.  The surveillance was being done by the groom's employer.  They wanted to 
determine the integrity of an executive under review for promotion.  At this particular 
party, beer and alcoholic beverages were consumed in mass quantities.  The men played 
poker and said some nasty things about the company chairman.  Yes, they were 
entertained by strippers, as well, who did jump out of a cake... first a guy, then a 
woman.  However, none of the guests at the party crossed the line; the groom remained 
faithful to his bride. 
 
A male private investigator, K.D., related this story to me: 

"One of the best I've heard was a bride-to-be, knowing where the bachelor 
party was, sent a hooker to a straight-up bachelor party with instructions to 
test her man's integrity and report back. The group of guys present, as men 
do, didn't question who supplied the entertainment, but competed for 1st, 2nd, 
3rd...you know, the macho numbers thing. Anyway....the wedding was off.

Next was the "Bride and Groomsmen" conspiracy prank (fun at first). The 
"Groom" had a surprise waiting for him in a dark room halfway through the party. 
His response was, "Oh yeah....alright". The next day, his fiancé asked about 
the party and if there was any entertainment, specifically female. When he lied about it, 
the argument began and ended with a flying ring. I'm sure you've already figured out who 
the girl in the dark room was." 
 

Another male private investigator, C.B., told me: 

"... I did some bodyguard work in my early days, and one gig was to follow a troupe of 
male strippers and keep the females at bay. During that time I saw plenty of bachelorette 
parties.  Most were pretty tame really except for the over indulgence of alcohol and some 
suggestive language." 

A female p.i., A.C., explains: 

"I have never done a surveillance at a bachelor party; however, I have done surveillance 
at honkey tonks where husbands hang out.  Reason for surveillance?  Wife wanted to 
know if husband was faithful so she could divorce him, take 1/2 of everything he had  
(including his old age pension, his children, his fishing boat) and then go live happily ever 
after with her close friend, a cohort at the office with whom she has only had a platonic 
relationship." 

Male p.i., S.K., told me this story: 

"We were investigating an insurance claimant who was a limo driver (we'll 
call him "Bill"). We funded a 'bachelorette' party for a group of attractive young ladies, 
one of whom was getting married. We informed the women everything was on the house. 
They weren't aware of our investigation. 

We determined which limo company "Bill" was working for and requested him 
as the driver ("Bill was highly recommended! We must have "Bill" for our 
driver!).  We had an operative (another attractive young woman) in the limo 
with a cell phone who would call and tell the following surveillance vehicles when and 
where they were going next. "Bill" (whose claim stated he could no longer perform the 
duties of a limo driver) was desperately trying to impress the ladies by lifting them off the 
ground, one and two at a time, as he posed for pictures. 

Needless to say, we obtained several hours of video and the girls had tons of fun." 

A male p.i., R.B., said, "Sounds like you're pretexting to me!" when I asked about all 
of this stuff.  Then he jokingly offered the following advice: 

"My advice is, if YOU plan to surveille a bachelor party as a guest, pay 
close attention to the message sent by your apparel and do NOT let the guys 
talk you into bringing a tape player.  Stay out of cakes.  This is 
important, as such an entrance, while clever and memorable, will set the 
tone for a long, although possible profitable, evening.  Don't volunteer to 
be in charge of the entertainment.  Actually KNOW someone there, 
personally.  No matter what you are told, guests at a BP do NOT kiss the 
groom and it is not customary for "the guest of honor" to model lingerie. 
No matter how intoxicated we get, we do NOT all disrobe at midnight, or sit 
on the best man's lap.  "Proxy bride and Warm-up wife" are not in fact 
honors usually bestowed upon BP guests - regard them and any associated 
"duties" with suspicion.  Blind Man's Bluff and Pin the Tail on the Donkey 
are seldom played - in fact, games involving blindfolds or physical 
restraints are generally avoided.  There are other don'ts, but you get the 
idea...  Other than that, have fun. 

A friend of my best friend's second cousin's husband's eye doctor's 
malpractice insurance salesman's AA sponsor told someone else all this... I 
just overheard the conversation.  So I wouldn't know any of this to be 
fact.  Really.  Never been to one.  If anyone says different, they're lying." 

J.V., another male p.i., told me this: 

"One time my brother-in law attended one of these parties.  The host had 
made a poster-sized photograph of the groom.  Everyone was supposed to 
sign his name to this poster along with a personal message to the groom. 

Well, as you can imagine, the "bad apple" in the group had to ruin 
things by drawing facial hair on the picture of the groom's face.  This 
was enough to encourage a "closet bad apple" to draw a scar. 

My brother-in law left immediately and has not attended one of these 
since." 

S.M., another male p.i., summed up his experience with bachelor parties: 

"Well, at a bachelor party, the men sit around, drink tea, eat 
cookies and discuss the wonders of marriage. I was at one once and 
one of the guys brought some beer... he was severely chastised. 

Somehow the men got a bad wrap.  The women do such nasty things at 
their parties with strippers and such that they just assume that men 
do the same things.  It isn't true.  Tea and cookies." 

To which p.i., R.H., replied: 
 
"... that is not entirely true.  At mine we got kinda wild and smoked cigars with our tea 
and cookies, but no beer!!  Never heard of one getting that wild..." 

I thought I'd heard it all until a former exotic dancer turned p.i. came forward with her 
story.  I promised her that I would only use her stage name, Gabrielle.  She is a brilliant 
woman and a very fine writer.  As such, I am publishing her story in the form of a letter to 
me.  This is how it really is... 

The Memoirs Of An Exotic Dancer: ... By Gabrielle 
  

Did you ever wonder why they call it "exotic" dancing?  What's so exotic 
about being butt-naked? 
____________________________________________________________________ 

Joanne, 

First of all, my apologies.  This is just short of the "great American 
novel."  I really did try to keep it short.  I saved all the personal 
stuff for last and tried to focus on the pertinent questions first. 
You're welcome to use my stage name in any article you write.  It was 
Gabrielle.  Though I've never been ashamed of stripping, it probably 
would not be a good idea to use my real name, right?! 

So, here's how it would go.  Upon arrival at a party, my escort and I 
would ask the Contact (person who hired me through the agency) for a 
bedroom or some place where I could change.  We'd collect the money and 
tell him that the first set was only three songs and I would only strip 
to a G-string.  After that I'd take a break and fill him in on the 
second set.  As for alcohol, usually there was drinking going on before 
we arrived.  Sometimes the bachelor was absolutely wasted by the time we 
got there.  At one party the bachelor was so drunk his friends had 
thrown his pants on the roof so he couldn't leave.  It was extremely 
windy that night and they kept blowing down.  The neighbors must have 
been really curious! 

The bachelor was placed off to himself in a sturdy chair that I could 
get around easily.  Everyone else usually seated themselves in a 
semi-circle facing the bachelor.  My escort would set up the boom box, 
introduce me and turn on the music.  I'd dance/strip for the three 
songs, mainly "playing up" to the bachelor.  I'd sit on his lap, kneel 
in front of him and shake my head around in his crotch area (this is 
just a show, mind you, and having long hair is a plus because it shields 
the fact that you aren't even close to doing anything).  Basically I'd 
do suggestive looking stuff for photographs, which I'm sure were used 
later as blackmail.  This set was pretty much what you might see on the 
Jerry Springer show (with nudity, of course) or in a strip club (the 
guys are just much closer).  When I completed this set, I'd sit on the 
bachelor's lap and say hi to everyone.  I'd explain that I'd be going 
back to change for the next set and my escort would be out in a minute 
to explain what would happen in that set. 

While I was sitting on the bachelor's lap (or anyone's lap, for that 
matter) I would allow him to touch me anywhere that a bikini bathing 
suit would not cover.  If he grabbed at my breast I would grab his hands 
and place them elsewhere admonishing him to "be a good boy."  I used to 
joke that stripping was glorified baby-sitting for grown men.  I can't 
tell you how immature they can be, particularly when they're drunk!  It 
can definitely get on your nerves.  The show might have been a sexual 
thing for them, but for me it was far from it! 

While I was changing I'd ask that the bachelor be brought into my 
changing room.  I would explain the "bachelor strip" to him so he'd know 
what to expect (and not expect anything else!)  My escort would explain 
to the other guests that we would be doing a "bachelor strip" and would 
perform the "party games" on the bachelor.  She would "pass the hat" 
(and it was an old fedora) for the tips to pay for the "bachelor 
strip."  She would also explain the party games, of which there are 
three.  The $5 game is called an "eyeball boogie."  Basically, I'd rub 
and shake my breasts (what little there was of them) in the guys face. 
No licking, biting, sucking etc., thank you!  The $10 game was the same 
only the guy got to lay on the ground and I'd dance over him.  I'd kneel 
behind his head to do the "eyeball boogie."  For $20 we had the "feed 
the kitty" which is reputed to be far worse than it is.  The guy would 
lay on the ground with a twenty in his mouth.  With one very dangerous 
spiked heel at each ear, I would squat down and grab the bill between my 
thighs.  This may sound very revealing, but believe me, they can't 
really see anything when your legs are only a foot apart (besides the 
light is really bad).  If he tried to raise his head, all I'd have to do 
is turn my ankles in a bit and I'd have his head in a vice (I hear it's 
very painful).  As far as picking up the bill goes, by that time I was 
so sweaty from dancing that the bill would stick to anything at the 
slightest touch.  This was a tricky game and I'd warn them all up front, 
"Do not move when I'm dancing around or over you.  High heels can kill! 
I won't be responsible for any holes in your hands, arms, legs, stomach, 
etc."  As they were usually drunk and couldn't control their movements 
well, they would cooperate. 

The reason we called it the "bachelor strip" is because I would strip 
the bachelor down to his underwear before I performed the party games on 
him.  If he cooperated and I felt he was trustworthy enough, I would do 
push-ups over him and other things that looked very disturbing on film. 
(By the way, I charged an extra fee if any pictures or video were taken, 
and I cringe to think of where photos of me may turn up one day.)  Some 
of the Poloroids I've seen looked very incriminating, but nothing 
actually happened.  I was glad I took the time to run through things 
with the bachelor because I had one party where the guy didn't have any 
underwear on.  I promised I would only take off his shirt, but his 
friends attacked him and tried to rip his pants off!  I had to 
intervene, telling them he was not comfortable with his pants off.  Poor 
guy.  He was terribly drunk and had expressed in private that he was 
afraid I was going to "take advantage of him."  I promised I wouldn't 
let anything bad happen and I didn't, though keeping his friends from 
stripping him was difficult.  They were pretty out of control. 

I digress.  During the second set I'd strip down to nothing but my high 
heels and do the bachelor strip.  After the bachelor, anyone could 
request the "party games."  Basically, I danced until the hour was up 
(bad party) or until the money ran out (good party).  At one party I 
made the mistake of waiting while a couple guys went to the bank for 
more money (the hour was already up, but they wanted more).  While I 
waited I sat around in a robe and chatted with everyone.  By the time I 
started dancing again, I'd lost their interest, because I had gone from a 
fantasy figure to a real person.  By talking about where I'd grown up, 
went to high school, etc., I'd shattered that veil of illusion, and they 
were almost embarrassed to see me take my clothes off, though they'd 
been very enthusiastic about it before. 

Now, you asked about the borderline prostitution stuff.  I had a party 
after another dancer once.  The girl before me had sprayed whipped cream 
on the inside of her thighs and let the guys lick it off for $20. 
Needless to say, they were not appreciative of my show and they tried to 
badger me into doing more.  They claimed she had let them squeeze and 
suck on her breasts, and from what I know of her it was probably true. 
I've also heard that some dancers would have sex for money, but I never 
knew anyone personally who would have.  It's a job and you become very 
jaded about men when you see them so often in that kind of situation. 
You don't think of them as "date" material.  I knew some women who 
worked at San Francisco's notorious O'Farrell Theater, a big strip club 
that charged a $20 cover charge and didn't serve alcohol.  Several of 
the women there were lesbians and most either had a college degree or 
were getting one while working there.  They were very jaded about men 
and were taking measures to better themselves so they would never have 
to depend on a man to support them. 

Several times I was approached and even hounded to perform oral sex or 
have intercourse with someone (usually the bachelor, though it was 
always his friends who did the asking).  I would tell them flat out that 
I was a dancer and not a prostitute.  I was hired to perform my show and 
if they wanted more they needed to look elsewhere.  One guy stands out 
in my mind as really not being able to take no for an answer.  He wanted 
me to sleep with the bachelor and said that he knows for a fact that 
another dancer that I knew would do it for $300.  I laughed hard.  I had 
escorted this dancer a couple times, and I knew her personally.  $300 was 
pocket change to her, and she absolutely loathed Mexican men (this guy 
was Mexican).  He insisted that everyone had a price, and I couldn't 
convince him that I didn't.  When he continued to pester me, I got in his 
face and said, "What a friend you are, trying to get your friend to 
cheat on his fiancé, not to mention you know nothing about me.  I could 
have AIDS for all you know and you want me to sleep with you friend!" 
That shut him up.  The sad thing was, the bachelor was very 
uncomfortable with the whole party.  He didn't want me touching him, and 
he hung out in the kitchen during most of the show.  I felt bad being 
foisted upon him since he obviously was not enjoying himself. 

As far as cheating goes, I don't think every man would cheat, but many 
would have if  I'd offered.  I sensed that most men pretended to be more 
drunk than they were because it gave them an excuse to act foolish. 
Most of the men at the parties, including the bachelors, enjoyed the 
show and didn't seem to hope for more.  I tried to always make it clear 
to them that it was just a show. 

If  I were to generally categorize the types of parties and how they 
rated it would be as follows:  Biker parties were a lot of fun because 
they really appreciated the entertainment.  They could get rowdy, 
boisterous, and downright annoying at times (one biker keep trying to 
shine a flashlight at my crotch - I finally had to take it away from 
him), but they accepted it as entertainment.  Yuppies were the worst 
because they thought they could buy anything and they had a real 
arrogant attitude.  Hispanic parties tended to be bad because they 
seemed to be very disrespectful to women in general (and they didn't 
like to spend money).  The absolute best parties (I'd do one tomorrow if 
I had the chance and I wasn't so out of shape!) were the Phillipino 
parties.  Phillipino families in that area would have big "joint" 
parties with the men in one area and the women in the other.  Sometimes 
the bride-to-be would actually pick out the dancer from the agency's 
portfolio.  Strip clubs are a common form of entertainment in the 
Phillipines and the women seem not to be so threatened by the idea of 
their men looking at other nude women.  At one party, I danced in the 
garage and the women - grandmothers, even - kept peeking from the house 
during the first set.  The food at these parties was exceptional also. 
Many times they would roast a whole pig.  Also, I did a couple parties 
for Phillipino men who were entertaining men visiting from their 
country.  They weren't bachelor parties, just parties thrown in 
someone's honor. 

As far as escorts go, I preferred to have a woman with me.  I used men 
on a few occasions, and I felt less safe with them.  When men get drunk, 
they often get violent, and they're more likely to pick a fight with a 
man than a woman.  The men also fixate on stupid stuff like asking the 
escort if the dancer is their girlfriend or if they'd ever slept with 
her.  The guys seem more on edge too, as if they're afraid the male 
escort will beat them up if they do something wrong.  Having a male 
escort just created a weird atmosphere. 

Finally, if you're up for it, I'd like to tell you how I got involved in 
exotic dancing and why.  The "why" is easy - money.  My family was 
dysfunctional (to say the least), and I found myself completely without 
any family support (financial or emotional) in my early twenties.  I 
worked as a salesperson in a department store and made barely enough 
money to keep myself fed and housed.  Through a strange serious of 
events, I ended up escorting a stripper to bachelor parties.  (An escort 
is kind of an assistant who turns on the music, handles the money, 
catches clothing, etc. and sometimes behaves like a bodyguard).  The 
dancer I worked for was a great entertainer and she put on a clean 
show.  I saw lots of money rolling in and after a while it didn't seem 
like a big deal to take your clothes off in front of a room full of 
men.  Why make 15% of the tips when you can make $80 an hour plus the 
other 85%?  One night, the dancer I worked for "passed the hat" at the 
end of one of her parties and I stripped to a bra and underwear for the 
money collected. 

By this time, I had started working at a go-go club (lingerie, no nudity) 
on top of my 9-5 and, while the money was good, I knew that bachelor 
parties paid much better (with less smoke and no cocktail waitressing). 
One night someone came into the bar and wanted to know if I'd do a party 
because the dancer they'd hired hadn't shown up.  I didn't have an 
escort, but the bouncer at the bar said he'd go with me so I agreed to a 
very large sum for only two songs (about a 10 minute show).  When I 
walked into this party I was shocked to find a couple guys I had gone to 
elementary and high school with!!!  I had made a commitment to follow 
through so I stripped, took the money, and got the hell out of there. 
After that, I put together a portfolio and got an agent.  I figured if I 
could strip for guys I knew in 5th grade, I could do anything! 

Just to put things in context, you should understand that I grew up a 
very eccentric, brainy tom-boy with a very beautiful best friend and 
more male friends than female friends.  I was comfortable with men (one 
of the boys) and I was always in the shadow of my best friend so I never 
felt particularly attractive.  I was also very into the "new wave" 
movement at the time (dyed hair, black lipstip, Doc Martens, clothes 
slashed and held together with safety pins) so to rat my hair, paint my 
face and put on a skimpy dress and high heels was like putting on a 
costume.  The person I was when I stripped (her name was Gabrielle, by 
the way) was an illusion.  And the fact that I could become this other 
person and men would pay money to see my bony, flat-chested self was 
hysterical.  (However, I was, and still am, a very good dancer.)  It was 
like playing a big joke on men in general.  And for once I was getting a 
lot of attention for my looks, and that was pretty intoxicating.  I can 
honestly say that I did enjoy doing it when the audience was 
appreciative.  It was fun, good exercise, and an ego-boost to boot! 

So, that's how I came to be a stripper.  During that time, I started 
working as a secretary and have been doing administrative work ever 
since.  I never danced full-time, and in retrospect, I'm very glad I kept 
a "regular" job.  The downfall of that line of work is, of course, the 
money.  Once you grow accustomed to making $200-600 an evening, it is 
hard to put yourself back in the rat race.  It's also very tough on a 
woman's self-esteem.  ("Huh?" you say)  Most of the strippers I have met 
are very into their looks.  So much value is placed on their outer shell 
that they lack the inner stuff to break away from it intact.  It's not a 
line of work you can do for a lifetime, and you have to plan for the day 
when you're too old.  If your dancer persona becomes your identity, it's 
hard to recover when it's over.  I had a lot of self-esteem related to 
who I was and what I was capable of.  Any degrading remarks made to me 
while I was a stripper I simply brushed off because they weren't talking 
about "me."  Ya' know what I mean? 

Why did I leave?  The recession hit -- the parties paid less and the 
good parties were few and far between.  In short, it wasn't worth it 
anymore.  It also helped that I was dating my husband at the time, and I 
found it harder and harder to pull myself away from him to go 
"entertain."  He accepted that I was a stripper because he had known me 
for years in my "real" world.  (And, of course, if you knew me better 
you'd know that no man tells me what I can and cannot do!)  We joke 
about it now.  He complains that he married a stripper and never got a 
bachelor party! 

Now I work as an administrative assistant for a consulting firm working on a 
multi-million dollar project for the State of  (*deleted to protect identity*), and I am 
co-founder and program director of a non-profit creative arts studio for homeless and 
at-risk folks.  I'm going to be leaving my paying job in March (though I will probably still 
do contract work for them) to start my own PI business.  I want to do background 
checks and skip tracing - in short, things I can do from my computer at home.  In my 
spare (HA!) time, I write poetry, play piano, and struggle with writing my first 
novel.  (No, this isn't it, and no, it isn't a crime or mystery novel -it's historical fiction.)  
*State name deleted to protect identity*  does not license PI's (yet) and I thought it an 
interesting field.  Bottom line: It intrigues me, I think I'll be good at it, and I can do it from 
home. 

 

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