Stripper feet are gross.
Even the girls who get frequent pedicures in an effort to make their feet look less gross spend hours in shoes that are made of some form of plastic or vinyl. We combat this by spreading deodorant between our toes and dusting our shoes with foot powder, but at the end of the day it doesn’t do much more than change the odor of our feet from biohazardously awful to just regular old bad.
My feet are especially gross. The only pedicures I’ve ever gotten are at-home procedures that consist of little more than some half-hearted rubbing with a pumice stone, a soak in warm water, some toenail clipping, and a little nail polish. Actually going to a nail shop and paying someone to make the little piggies presentable seems pointless: my feet are a lost cause. To begin with, they are quite large and, though my arches are high, my feet look almost oblong when I am standing. The toenails of my little toes are barely existent and folded into the flesh of the knuckle, the toenails on my other toes curve upwards to the point where I have to cut them down to the quick if I expect to wear any but the sturdiest hosiery more than once. My big toes are both constantly battling slightly ingrown toenails, and I have ever-growing bunions from wearing high heels constantly and walking everywhere. I am, one would think, a foot fetishist’s worst nightmare.
Strip clubs–or at least the ones I’ve worked at–have a tendency to attract fetishists of all kinds, but especially foot fetishists. Why this is, I do not know. While it’s true that foot fetishes are hardly uncommon, a strip club doesn’t strike me as a good place to indulge that particular kink. While there are plenty of foot fetishists who actually prefer gross feet to all other feet, most of the men I encountered didn’t state any such preference.
I had been working at Heavenly Creatures for a week before I met my first foot guy, José.