SATIRE

Top 4 Backup Plans if Being a Stripper Doesn’t Work Out

Hey, we all think about these things sometimes

After high school, I did the logical thing and promptly took up stripping. Friends and family were supportive, but have frequently cautioned me that burnout is high in this profession. Also, I simply might not have the skills to make it really really big, as I of course plan to. So without further ado, here is a list of backup plans I have compiled to set their concerned minds at ease.

1. Go to college.

I know it’s stigmatized. I know no one really respects “degrees” these days, least of all those tied to a “university”. Like honestly, learn a practical skill! I, of course, have no shortage of those. Friends occasionally suggest looking into an undergrad degree, but trust me, I’m more than qualified to deal with bachelors. And if I wanted to deal with masters, I’d have more than enough offers on the table. Still, I’ll keep this one in my pocket as a backup.

2. Start a tech company.

I’d rather not take the easy way out — by which I mean, of course, using my brain for money. But if it comes to that, I can easily put on my thinking cap along with all of my clothes, hunker down at my computer, and whip up a start-up in no time. To those who tell me I’m wasting my potential to thrive as a businesswoman, let me tell you that I have the opportunity to make calculated psychological choices every day at my current job.

3. Become an engineer.

I’ve been encouraged my whole life to do something more with myself than just applying mathematical skills. I was taught that the art of disrobing in style takes much more technique than crunching numbers all day, even creatively. Also, desks are so very overrated. Comfort is my priority. Yeah, I know that advancing society might be considered worthwhile in some circles, but I’d honestly rather take the shorter route to making people happy.

4. Take up nunnery.

This one might actually work for me. I feel like I could really use some of the skills I’ve learned in conversation with God. I’m used to dudes who promise a lot more than they’re willing to give, and expect that they’ll still consume your day-to-day thoughts. Oh, and I’m pretty good at getting down on my knees and raising my hands. Cheap shot, I know — but hey, clients love to buy me those.

I feel that this list has been not only exhaustive but more than adequately detailed. Are you happy, mom? I’m crossing my fingers that writing this has bought me at least six months of not hearing about this topic at family gatherings. I know you want to see me succeed, and you’re coming from a place of genuine concern for my happiness. Still, sometimes it feels like you just don’t think I’m talented enough to excel in my current position.