For a lot of the guys, dancing is an extension of their social life. A way to start their night, before indulging in alcohol and women. They dance, hit the strip to party, then nurse their hangover until they do it all over again the next night. I’ve never been a partier. Not bragging, because there were plenty of times in my early twenties, I wanted to be a normal guy with no responsibility to anyone but myself, but where my parents had failed us, I refused to fail Sophie.

When I’m in wardrobe for work, I become someone else. An alternate persona. The charming flirt that entertains the audience during every show isn’t real. He’s the façade that I developed to give them what they’re here for, fantasy, escape, a good time.

A Saturday night in Vegas doesn’t mean much because every night in Vegas is someone’s birthday, girls’ night out, or bachelorette party, but still, weekend audiences have an added intensity.

We perform Tuesday through Saturday nights with double feature shows on Friday and Saturday for three-month stints, and get two weeks off between productions, usually to learn new material but after tonight, I’m ready for a real break.

“But isn’t every woman a fan of our show? I mean we’ve got the muscles, the moves and if DJ Vince gets his head out of his ass, we’ve got the music.”

“Are you talking about how you missed your curtain time last week? It’s not Vince’s fault you were hooking up with a fan girl from the previous show in the bathroom.”

Listening to their antics, I shake my head, fasten my bow tie and cuffs, then close my locker. In years, I’m not that much older than most of the guys, but as the oldest now, and most experienced in the business, I’ve become the self-appointed big brother of the group. A role I’m familiar with.

It’s not my personality to be rowdy like the other guys, constantly working each other up and trying to outdo one another. When Chad, Romeo as he was known on the stage, retired, I became the oldest and most experienced guy on the revue. At thirty, they give me shit about being the old man, but to some of these young twenty somethings, I am.

Since I started dancing with Rainin’ Men, I’ve had a singular goal. To put my little sister through school. The cliché of women pole dancing to pay for college comes to mind. I would never in a million years let Sophie near a strip club or any other profession that would require her to take off her clothes for money. Maybe it’s a double standard, but I’d rather be the one doing it.