Most strippers perform under a cute name, like Kandy or Krystal, both spelled with a K, of course.
Gertrude Blatz didn’t play that game.
Nor did she select music with a hard beat and raunchy lyrics.
She picked waltzes. Or Taps.
Something to break up the mood.
Fuzzy slippers and a long bathrobe, her hair in curlers.
Her gymnastics training made her limber and strong, but she usually just sat in a chair and sipped coffee and smoked a joint.
Her customers didn’t mind. They were mostly nearsighted old men.
Or blind.
Usually, their dogs would pant more than them.