Why do we work? For those of us that do or have, we’ll say that it has to do with recompense (getting paid), or a sense of accomplishment, or both. Some of us work toward our own version of success, some of us work for society’s version of success, sometimes they are one and the same.

When our version of success and the work we do differs, we’re little more than whores – at best pole dancers performing for a leering audience. We do what they want us to do, and while we may enjoy some of it, we know that we’re just working. And why do we do that? To pay the bills. To make ends meet. Maybe even to get ahead – from what I understand, pole dancing and prostitution can be quite lucrative (someone will take issue with that, but that’s because they’ll miss ‘can be’ in their reactionary reading).

In the end, if you’re not working toward something, you’re just doing what someone else wants. You’re someone else’s bitch. And, likely, you’re afraid of losing that work so you put up with quite a bit from the pimp… or manager. The manager’s job is to get the most out of those they manage, and their manager’s job is the same at a higher level. An hierarchy.

What is the point of work? For some, that’s all it is. For others, it is a labor of love. For those of us who do our work out of love for it, we often don’t see eye to eye with those above in the management hierarchy… but we do it anyway and, as we do, they chip away until we’re no more than the pole dancers.

If feminists can argue that pole dancing and prostitution are exploitation…