I went to work one October morning in 2008 and most of the lights were switched off in the offices. People sat at their computers with somber expressions in the dark drinking coffee. Like someone had died. When my boss called me into the president’s office for a marketing meeting at 9:30, I had a sinking feeling that something bad was about to occur. She and the president were at a table with a grave melancholy in their eyes. I took a seat at the table in the room with expansive windows overlooking downtown and the state capitol building. The president held a black folder in his hands and waited for a moment to clear his voice. “As you know, the stock market is crashing this week on Wall Street. The economy is in trouble and so is this company. We are sorry to announce that we have to cut your position.” The buildings behind him outside swayed in my line of vision as I took in the words. I saw the buildings falling to the ground. I saw myself having no choice but to work as a stripper. I saw everything being in a state of ruin, our city, our nation, our world. The tears hit me. “We want you to know that this decision has no reflection on your work performance. Many people today will be learning that their positions are being cut. We cannot afford to have everyone.” My boss gave me a tissue and said that I had time to clear out my desk drawers, then she would escort me out. 2008 was the year I lost my good paying job, my best friend, my girlfriend, and my downtown apartment as I descended into financial ruin. 2008 was the year our nation had its major economic meltdown. Millions of people were suddenly out of work. Fast forward to 2009. We have a 10% national unemployment rate. I have a master’s degree in English. I’m an artist. I’m a writer. I’m a lesbian. I'm over educated and underemployed. And I have no choice at this point in time but to become an exotic dancer to survive.

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