A Dancer's Life

I learned, the hard way, that being an escort in SL has a downside: you’ve got to be willing to “fake” your persona for the sake of the customer’s perceived “experience.” Not this kid, nope!

So I says to myself, I says, “What now?” And then it occurred to me! What do I love best about SL? What would I spend most of my time doing, given the choice? Am I a “builder?" Nope, only of prim clothing items. Some pretty damn nice ones, but limited skills required. Do I like sales and store management and vending issues? Naw, I’ve seen what that can do to friends with popular products! Their SL is now a “job," and their fun is constantly interrupted by puerile avatars who don’t understand how to rezz, open, and wear an item, but have more money than brains. Not for me!

There is ONE thing I love, and do almost constantly, and enjoy immensely. I dance, and I socialize, talk to my friends, family, and gay brothers in SL, and have serious fun doing it!

So I says to the escort manager guy, I says, “Do you employ guys just for dancing?”, and bingo!
“Yes, Mike, we’ll get you a dancer tag, and start assigning you to our contracted clubs!”

Woohoo! I got me a job!

Well, now the fun, and sometimes the excruciating boredom, begins. How often, as you dance through Second Life, patronizing your favorite clubs and venues, do you really pay attention to those pretty avatars stuck up on poles around the room, for your viewing pleasure? How often to you pass ‘em a few Lindens, for the pleasure they provide? Well, I can tell ya, not enough, especially if the dancers are mute and wooden, as most pole dancers tend to be. This, to me, is the bane of the dancer’s existence: the pole! Poorly animated, most of ‘em, few controls to play with, no movement allowed, and two hours of listening and attempting to follow a chat conversation thread, notice and compliment all new arrivals, chat the requisite goodbyes to those departing and stay awake, while feeling like you’re tied to a chair? It’s work. No other way to see it! it’s an endurance test!

And here’s where some really important stuff, to a pro dancer, comes into play. Design, design, design! Working a club that’s beautifully designed, with a nicely textured dance floor and walls that enhance the appearance of the avatars within, and that is small enough to allow intimate chatter, while large enough to accommodate the crowd that shows up, make an evening of fun, frolic, sparkling conversation, entertaining and flirtatious banter. All the elements of a great party!

Conversely, I’ve experienced the entire opposite end of the spectrum. Club owners or managers who fail to show up for their own events, so that group tags can be distributed allowing dancers to rezz their tip jars. Events so poorly publicized and promoted that other than staff, 3 avatars show up for the two-hour venue. And worst of all, garish, obnoxious, and nearly unusable club designs.

Those in which some misguided club “builder” installs every eyeball-blistering spotlight, floor texture changers, spinning prim lights, animated alpha-layers, mist or balloon-object generators, and on, and on, and on, like some penny arcade run amok! Oh, and then sticks the pole dancers in opposite corners, completely out of chat range of each other, and of half the room! Sheesh! Then, to add insult to injury, take 10% of the dancers’ tips, even though half your attendees are the friends your dancers invited and teleported in for the two-hour “ordeal!" Double-sheesh!

The result? A proud and puffy club owner, pleased with all his glitzy purchases and installations, and a room that is not only impossibly congested for dancing, but does not allow camera anchoring, or avatar movement, without constantly encountering a barrage of “effects,” most of which assault the senses and annoy both patrons and staff alike. As a pro dancer, I’ve been admonished by my managers never to comment negatively on a venue, so I don’t. But I dodge the assignments, avoid those places like the plague, and watch them fail, as their potential patrons tire of the environment, too. Sad, that a simple consultation could cure the problem, but the egos involved won’t allow the subject to be broached. So be it, (sigh).

At the opposite end of the spectrum, there are the “class” clubs, and I determined to remain journalistically neutral in this piece, so I won’t name names. You, me, and the rest of SL know them.

Good, wide-awake DJ’s, great, avatar-enhancing floor and wall patterns, tip jars and freebie stations clear of the dance floor, wide, spacious entrances that force a “walk-up,” so that avatars arrive on the dance floor fully rezzed; these are thoughtful, well-considered design features that impress, and bring me back again and again to those delightful places, whether working or just having my own SL fun! Subtle and flattering lighting, conversation areas and couple-dance areas off from the “crowd zone,” no excessive product vending inside the club, few annoying camera obstacles to obscure one’s view of the entrance and the avatars. These make for a wonderful evening! And, best of all, club dancers who are good with their avatars, and can move thru the crowd, “sexing up” individual patrons, talking, greeting, paying attention to what’s worn and displayed, paying compliments and correctly spelling names! And not, not, not, stuck to a piece of furniture!

‘Nuff said! Let’s go dancing!