By Ruth Fowler
A tender British woman-broke and out of luck-does conflict with Manhattan's underworld of dancers, medications, and the intercourse Ruth Fowler is a twenty-five-year-old Brit with a Cambridge measure and a middle-class historical past who arrives in manhattan urban with goals of turning into a journalist. yet getting a piece visa in post-9/11 the US proves to be tough. It does not take lengthy for money and incentive to run out-sending Fowler to the center of Manhattan's darkish underbelly of strip golf equipment and the intercourse alternate, the place as her regulate ego "Mimi" she works as a dancer for greater than years. either uncooked and surprising, lady, Undressed tells the harrowing tale of her descent into darkness, the younger and filthy rich Eton-educated Englishman with whom she perilously falls in love, and her revelatory trip again to herself.
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Extra info for Girl, Undressed: On Stripping in New York City
Old Venus comes in, breasts erect. Her dog is having jealousy issues with Lila, the champagne manager’s dog, after the two were introduced over an extended drinking- marijuana-smoking session sometime last week. The ritual of asking about their dogs soothes me, acts as an analgesic, and the music over the Tannoy speakers kicks in, which means the club is officially open, which means I can go downstairs and order a drink and sit at the bar and let the alcohol soak into my body, leak out over my system, and blot out the goodness like india ink.
I made my fate by staring out of the window of an airport shuttle bus three years earlier and resolving to turn myself into a New Yorker. The bus drops me off outside an apartment complex on Astor Place. “Nice address, baby,” says the driver, a huge Jamaican guy. I have no idea where I am. I drag my suitcase into the shiny brass lobby, locate the elevator, up to the third floor. The guy I’m staying with is one of those friends of friends of friends, the ex-boyfriend of my sister’s boyfriend’s friend.
I gotta have me some order in my life. But everyone here is nice, they’re good people. ” He pauses, takes a deep drag of lemon zinger tea, and then spits it rudely back into the cup. “Fuck, dude! ” He points to a pot of sand with a cigarette butt protruding elegantly from its midst. ” A drum beat starts up from somewhere in the depths of the apartment. “Fucking musicians. There ain’t no peace in this fucking apartment, but it’s cheap. ” “Oh, I’m a writer. I’m trying to get a job on a magazine. I just arrived in New York .