Mouse's Ear Memoirs: Last Night and After

Sorry about the delay! I am very emotional about scabby losers like Cabral. I had a difficult time writing about my last night at Mouse's Ear, even three years later. Crybaby Cabral made me cry in November of 2019. This post won't contain by best writing, but I want to move on with the series!

Elyssa Cabral had her shortcomings, but she was shockingly versed and educated on dancer rights. It's easy for me to see how she became the valedictorian of her graduating class. She randomly spouted off little comments and phrases about worker rights in the dressing room, which nobody in particular replied to. Cabral's random dancer rights comments popped out among her rants about her dorky Halloween obsession, dead body interests, costume design, and other banal bullshit. Her comments would be easy to miss if one didn't know what misclassification is. For someone like me, her comments stuck out. As much as I hated Roxy and knew what she was saying about me behind my back, I also understand that in order for workers to have any power to defend themselves against their exploitative employers, workers must put their differences aside and unite. So, Roxy was also one of my favorite coworkers in addition to one of my least favorites. I googled her a lot while we were coworkers, in preparation for a discussion on the subject of misclassification. I found her mom's obituary from a decade or so ago and never mentioned it to her. She was raised by her grandparents as a teenager, but referred to her grandparents as her parents in the workplace. I thought it was odd that she never mentioned her mom's death during any of her forced trauma dumping in the dressing room, nor during any of the times that she suggested to our coworkers that they murder their parents.

Around October of 2019, I started noticing Ralph watching my behavior more closely. Lilith began complaining to him that I was being “pushy” with customers to get them to spend money. Brazil would prompt her customers to complain about me for being “rude.” Aspen always wanted me gone and thought I was too abrasive. In reality, many strippers are rude and pushy with the customers but never lose their jobs. With my personal history of suing clubs and most clubs wanting me gone, I don't always have the luxury to behave like other dancers. Strip clubs will look for reasons to fire me. I sensed that my time at Mouse's Ear was ending. I was worried that the Brownings would find any excuse to get rid of me, such as customer complaints. Maybe I was incorrect, and Ralph wasn't plotting my termination with the assistance of Conner and scab bitches who didn't want to compete with me any longer, but I sensed the end in late October and early November. Some time around late October or early November of 2019, I began having conversations with Brandy about my history of suing clubs. Brandy claimed to not have heard anything about my lawsuits from people like Lilith or Aspen. I mentioned that I was interested in discussing worker rights with Roxy, and that her politics interested me. Dropping Roxy's name in conversation with Brandy was something I intentionally did as bait, because I knew Brandy was leaky and would most likely mention my comment to her friend Roxy. I needed a way to break the ice with Roxy on topics of mutual interest.

In October of 2019, my knees began to ache with a bursitis more painful than any bursitis I have ever had in my life. It was from the mandatory high heels at Mouse's Ear, combined with the frequent need to go on stage not only for sets, but for the 2-for-1 features multiple times per hour. The stage is up several small steps that look non-threatening, but are indeed a threat to one's knees with the amount of times that one must walk up and down them per shift. The long stairway to the attic dressing room also contributed to bursitis, and it wasn't always convenient to remove my heels before and after going into the dressing room.

Shortly after one of my last phone conversations with Brandy, Roxy and I did begin talking about contract law in the dressing room. This was in early November of 2019. I forgot who started the conversation, but I do know that I had to swallow my pride and resentment regarding Roxy's clandestine comments about me. She apologized for the way she had acted toward me over the previous months, and stated that she was just giving into peer pressure to pile-on against me. Roxy admitted to strongly disliking, if not hating, most of our coworkers at Mouse's Ear, and told me that she was only nice to them because she needed to keep her job. She explained that Madison Rae Gladstone was incredibly mean and emotionally abusive to her while they socialized together, both at work and outside of work. She described Madison Rae Gladstone making fun of her for being a trafficking survivor in California. She admitted to hating Aspen, who she only pretended to be friendly with. She expressed a negative opinion about most of our coworkers, including Brandy, who she described as being very untrustworthy. Roxy stated that she was really trying to find a way out of the Mouse's Ear's hostile working environment. She told me her plans to write an “expose” about Mouse's Ear, under a pseudonym. She repeatedly used the term “expose” to describe her plans for an article. It seemed as though she liked the idea of using the term “expose” more than the idea of actually writing something about Mouse's Ear. I questioned her on why she was friends with misogynist dweeby Male Feminist DJ Chris Conner. She admitted to agreeing with me about Conner being a piece of shit. She explained that she just mistakenly thought he was a good person at first, because his virtue signaling makes him come off as such a nice guy. I grilled her on why she remained facebook friends with him and interacted with him in the public comments section of his facebook. She stated that she was just doing that because they're coworkers for the time being, out of convenience and to maintain job stability.

During our chat, Cabral praised me on being so beautifully skilled at the job. I asked her why she had a conversation with coworkers about a desire to put a hex on me to make all of my female genital hairs fall out. I didn't mention how I found out about that conversation, and she never asked me how I knew. But, she did reply that she had no recollection of that conversation. She said that her brain “disassociates constantly” while she is at work, and she doesn't remember things she says. She didn't express accountability for any specifics, such as the obsession she has with her own large breasts and the football-player-locker-room-esque body shaming that she engages in regarding female bodies that don't look like hers. I didn't press her any further, after she blamed it all on “peer pressure” and “disassociation.” Looking back though, I don't believe most of her behavior was “peer pressure,” so much as it was a vengeful rage at my success and her failures. Blaming it all on mental illness and “disassociation” is just gas lighting. She instigated a lot of conversations and used disdain for me to ease her own self-hatred, then brushed it all under the rug as “disassociation.”

During our conversation, Elyssa told me that she received her funding for expensive clothing and makeup from her internet fans, and that she has a strong internet fan base for the adult content that she posts online. Cabral did not understand that a strong pornographic internet fan base means very little IRL, where movement, eye contact, smell, energy work, and social interaction with customers is most important for sales. She stated that she had no trust fund to support her, and that after her mother died, her dad took the life insurance policy money and left with it. She stated that she is not actually from San Francisco, but grew up poor in a town outside of San Francisco.

Elyssa Cabral wore a satan ring to work in 2019, which she lovingly caressed while speaking with me. She told me that she worshiped “Him.” She said “Him” in a longing, pining tone, as though she had romantic feelings for satan. She thought I might be interested in her ring, since I am a “witch.” During our conversation, I clarified to her that I was not a witch. She exclusively acquired these witch assumptions about me from speaking with lying coworkers, such as Stumpy Dumpy Taylor Miller. As Elyssa and I sat on the bench in the dressing room talking, I thought about how she looked so ridiculous with her satan ring. I didn't say that to her though; I just nodded, listened, and continued to try to steer the conversation to contract law and misclassification.

While most of my conversation with Elyssa was just the two us, Gwen appeared at some point with some of their hag homies. Gwen had a water bottle that she was drinking out of. I am relatively oblivious to the degree of addiction that my peers have, so I was surprised when Gwen informed me that the clear liquid in her water bottle was actually liquor, not water. She asked me if I wanted some, which I declined. At that point, Gwen had not casually spoken to me in the months since Roxy started working there and befriended her, like a good beta side-kick. At her offering of liquor, it appeared as though she found it safe enough to speak to me when she saw that Roxy and I were on friendly terms. Some of the random hags had also gathered near where Roxy and I were conversing. Lilith interrupted our conversation to stare me down, bend over, and creepily give Roxy a kiss on her cheek. Roxy would later describe this interruption as Lilith's desire to triangulate and control a social situation. She explained to me how much she secretly disliked Lilith. Gwen was passing the water bottle full of clear liquor around for her fellow losers to swap saliva and get buzzed. I was befuddled that Gwen would do such a thing, because I never took her for the water-bottle-full-of-clear-liquor type, but there she was, letting me in on her little secret. There's something so pathetic about adult women in the workplace behaving that way, something I haven't done since being a teenager.

At some point during my conversation with Roxy, she and I got on the topic of how backstabbing and two-faced Southerners are. She and I both acknowledged that it can be confusing to have someone smile at you and be polite, only to have something very harmful happen because of their later behavior. Gwen joined our conversation on Southorns. Gwen stated that she was also originally from California, and conveyed that the social particulars of backstabbing Southorns is confusing to her. I was surprised to learn that Gwen is also from California, because her facebook says that she is from Ohio. But, she definitely has the tattoos, stupid looking piercings, and beta shitlib turdish ways of a Californian, so I could see it. As much as Southerners bother me and I enjoy describing them on this series, there was also a part of me that felt defensive about these two stupid California bitches kvetching and shitting on Tennesseans. But again, I wanted to steer the conversation to worker rights and misclassification with Roxy.

At some point, either during this conversation with Roxy or during a subsequent facebook conversation with Roxy, she and I agreed to meet at the Panera Bread that was around the block from Mouse's Ear. Over the previous six months, many times before work, I sat outside of that Panera sipping coffee and surfing the internet. I was excited that Roxy agreed to meet me there to talk about worker rights at Mouse's Ear. We planned to do something about the misclassification that was going on at Mouse's Ear. My knees were absolutely killing me the week leading up to our meeting. It was difficult for me to stand up out of bed in the mornings after working, because the constant pressure and unnatural angle of the heels had damaged my joints so much. I could barely see my knee bones, because the tissue was so swollen and puffy. That week, I purchased some ballet flats. I also prepared a letter to give to whichever Browning was working when I felt most brave. It was one of my typical kiss-of-death letters that I give to strip club owners as an ultimatum, which has usually led to my terminations and subsequent NLRB complaints in the past. I've been accused by Centerfold's attorney Christina Corl of making the letter “canned,” in order to get fired on purpose. To that I say-- strip clubs exploit workers in a canned manner that is illegal, and how dare anyone shame me for exercising my rights that people fought and died for? What these letters contain are a list of ways in which I am misclassified in a particular workplace, and a request that I be treated like the contractor that I signed up to be. I started writing them with that angle in 2017 at Silk Exotic Madison, after Idiot Arbitrator Frank Abramson called me too “sophisticated” to be misclassified by Seville Minneapolis, and made me lose the Seville case.

It was late Friday afternoon of November 8th, 2019, that Roxy and I were to meet outside of Panera. I planned to show her my letter and talk to her about it. She talks as though she is interested in a revolution of some kind, she has other sources of income, she has a husband, and no human dependents. She is able-bodied, young, and an educated former valedictorian. In many ways, she is the prime privileged person to shoulder such burdensome issues of worker rights that she claims to care about.

I made sure to get to Panera an hour early that day, get my coffee, a salad, sit and wait for her with my letter. I planned all of the things I would explain to Roxy and ask her she what she thought. I thought maybe with her social circle at Mouse's Ear, she could help me spark some kind of strike. After that hour had passed, I waited, and waited, and waited another hour or so before hearing anything from her. She messaged me with some stupid excuse about not being able to make it because she had something else to do and might be late for work. Previously, our plan was to talk at Panera for an hour or so before going to start our shift together. Whatever her excuse was, I was extremely disappointed and cried a little bit. It really hurt my feelings to be stood up by someone who profusely apologized to me for her bullshit over the course of several months, talk to her about a subject I thought we both cared about, and then sit outside of Panera all alone like a Bozo for hours being stood up. What a stupid, pathetic, disingenuous, virtue-signaling clown Elyssa Cabral turned out to be.

I packed up my things and headed into Mouse's Ear, limping from my knee injuries. At work that evening, I had my Misclassification Notification letter in my backpack, along with the ballet flats. I was not brave enough to get them out at the beginning of the shift. I needed to make money that night.

There are things written about me in unauthorized articles, calling me “The World's Most Combative Stripper,” and other bullshit from people I've never met or spoken to. In reality, I am a nervous person who trembles with uncontrollable fear at the most inconvenient of times. I have social anxiety when not hustling. Authority figures scare me, as do savage stripper bitches. I was nervously trembling all night on this particular Friday. Cabral was being nice to me, and like a helpless waif with nothing else to cling to, I clung to her emotionally. I showed her the letter that I had in my backpack, and discussed showing it to the Brownings. She agreed with me about what it said, but also stated that there could be some negative consequences if I showed it to the Brownings. I casually walked around in the dressing room with the ballet flats, taking them off and putting the heels back on to go downstairs. I just wanted to practice what they would feel like in the dressing room before going downstairs with them on, to do a little emotional recon. Some time around Midnight, after five or so hours of fretting and trying to work normally, I decided it was show time. I put the ballet flats on and held the letter before it was time to go downstairs for one of the 2-for-1 features where every dancer has to stand on stage and walk off together. I waited for everyone else to go downstairs before I did. Ralph was working that night, standing at the bottom of the stairs to corral all of the dancers, yelling at us to all get downstairs and go on stage. I ran downstairs and handed him the letter before going up the steps to get on stage, then walked off. He looked at the letter, laughed and rolled his eyes. He didn't notice my ballet flats right away.

After all of the dancers were off stage and some were doing 2-for-1 dances, I felt safest sitting next to Roxy while she sat with some regulars who had no interest in buying dances from her. I told her that I gave Ralph the letter and that I was nervous. She offered me very little comfort, looked nervous, got up and walked over to Ralph. I don't know if he looked at the letter by that point, but he was standing at the bar, intensely staring at me. Roxy stood right next to him while he stared me down. I was shocked that she went over and did that. Yes, I have been stabbed in the back many times. Yes, I understand that strippers and all humans are generally unreliable and disgusting, but Roxy is a Californian who posts memes about revolution on her social media all the time. She knows what misclassification is. I thought maybe the least she could do was sit next to me while I was nervous and trembling with my ballet flats on. Why did she get up, walk away from me during this intense moment, and stand next to Ralph in an act of solidarity with him? My heart sank. I wanted to cry. I hate Elyssa Cabral so very much; she is such a pathetic pile of shit.

It's hard to measure time sometimes, in these intense moments when I piss off my employers with nobody backing me up. My cheeks flush and I get dizzy. I suffer from panic attacks. At some point, Ralph yelled at me to go put my heels back on or leave. I wanted to continue making money that night and wasn't sure what to do, so I went back upstairs to put my stripper shoes back on. At some point, I asked Roxy why she went and stood next to Ralph while he was staring me down at the bar. I asked her if she said anything to him or if they discussed me. She said I was not discussed, she just stood by him as she stands by anybody throughout the course of an evening, and it wasn't a big deal. She wasn't interested in discussing labor rights with me at that point in the evening, or discussing anything serious whatsoever.

For all of Elyssa Cabral's (Jack St. Morior) facebook memes about worker rights, revolution, defiance, and rebellion, she is not a rebellious person in practice at all. She does not “walk the walk” in any regard, except to walk over to Ralph while he is staring me down. She walks in her stripper shoes, walking away from me during an emotional time when I needed her most, not walking to Panera Bread to have a simple conversation about topics that she knows damned well are important. For all of her counter-cultural aesthetics, all of her fashion statements, all of her pronouns, Elyssa Cabral is nothing but a Basic Bitch. She is a Basic Bitch who can't hustle, and a Basic Bitch who can't stand up to her employer. She is a Basic Bitch who secretly hates all of her friends. Roxy has no moxie. Cabral is so Basic that she can't even quietly sit next to me while I'm trembling. All of her valedictorian boasts, contract law knowledge, memes about politics, interests in being feral, social media followers, political leanings, and pronouns mean nothing when she fails to do the simplest of supportive acts for a fellow comrade. Similarly, all of her cosmetics, costumes, and mammary tissue couldn't save a Basic Bitch from below-poverty-level strip club earnings on any busy weekend night. Roxy wasn't a stripper, or a hustler, or a revolutionary. She was always just a Basic Bitch clown honking around.

I left work early on my last Friday night with Ralph's permission. I wasn't feeling well. Before I left, Ralph called me into the office. He was trembling too. Maybe it was his cocaine and not me that caused him to tremble. I asked him for a copy of our contract earlier in the evening, and he neglected to give me one until then. In the office, shaking, he was showing me paragraphs which he highlighted for me, with language about how the rules were legal and Mouse's Ear wasn't doing anything wrong. I took it and left. I was supposed to work on Saturday night, but my knees were so swollen and achy that I barely left the bed that day. I went back to work on either Sunday or Monday evening, not knowing if I would be allowed back. When I entered the lobby, Buddy came up to me and had me go into his office to speak with him. Stupid Bitch Alex Cave was in the bar area eavesdropping, and of course my audio recorder was eavesdropping too. Buddy and Ralph put a lot of faith into their Deja Vu-style contract. There is a section in it that says if I feel at any time that I am an employee, then I must tell them right away that I am an employee, and then I must come back as an employee and give away all of my earnings besides minimum wage. It's a slimy little legal language maneuver that I will elaborate on in another post, but Buddy fired me after a short argument in the office, by telling me to leave and not come back. That conversation was very valuable for me to have a recording of, regardless of what the contract said and Buddy's confidence with it. The lawsuit was their fault, not the fault of an exploited employee who knows her rights.

After Mouse's Ear fired me, Cabral feigned a bit of interest and concern over a facebook conversation when I told her. I'll never know how genuine she was about her concern. She never followed up, reached out, or checked in on me. She knew that I was homeless, jobless, had very little money saved, and was unsure of where to go next.

After Mouse's Ear fired me, I drove up to Lexington to audition at some clubs. I had to wait in bed for a few days while my knee swelling subsided. They were hot with pain, and I could not walk down the stairs of my hotel without hobbling. There was a blizzard in Eastern Kentucky while I waited for the knee swelling to go down. I was very sad and alone. A club called Cowboys in Lexington looked at my driver's license, perhaps at my birth year, and wouldn't even let me past the front desk to audition. Spearmint Rhino in Lexington had an computer problem, and they were unable to audition with their computers down. Platinum Dolls in Lexington had an ugly Latina woman manager audition me, so of course she wouldn't hire me. Panicked, I drove down to a friend's house in Florida to stay for a week. I worked a couple of nights at Cheater's in Cocoa Beach, but Florida clubs are so utterly disgusting that I decided to leave the state. I drove up to Charlotte, North Carolina, to work at Paper Doll Lounge. Somehow, the manager at Paper Doll already knew who I was. Paper Doll was also a ghetto disgusting atmosphere where I only made $70 before leaving my shift early. The manager called me into the office and gave me a lecture on how I shouldn't leave a shift early. On my drive from Charlotte, NC to Camden, TN, I had to sleep in my car because I had no money for a hotel. Teazers in Camden is where I worked next. Teazers has already been covered in it's own series.

For the Mouse's Ear NLRB investigation, I asked Cabral if she would be willing to at least tell the NLRB how we were misclassified and how she and I spoke of labor rights before I was fired. She was unwilling to do that, unless she could remain anonymous. The NLRB doesn't take anonymous affidavits. She was totally unwilling to put her privileged-ass name on anything related to labor rights. In order for an NLRB claim to be considered Meritorious, in order to prove that I was illegally terminated for engaging in protected speech, the NLRB needs evidence that I engaged in conversation or communication with at least one other coworker on the matter. Even though Cabral is a cowardly Basic Bitch unwilling to help me, I had audio recordings of all of our workplace conversations, in addition to facebook conversations. Her affidavit definitely would've helped, but I prepared for the worst and was rewarded for it, Basic Bitch notwithstanding. Proving misclassification, employee status, and illegal termination was all very easy to do for this case. Proving concerted activity was also something that I achieved, thanks to the recordings and digital evidence.

Since starting this series, I googled Elyssa Cabral, to see that she was involved with a lawsuit against the Bayer corporation a few years ago, along with her family members as co-plaintiffs. I thought that was interesting, but haven't looked too much into it to understand the specifics of the case. She has definitely posted some memes that appear as though she is in support of my lawsuits. Cabral has also made facebook posts this past year, containing memes about not wanting more people to move to Tennessee. I wonder if she has picked up a twang yet, or if she tells more people to go back where they came from, like she secretly said about me in the dressing room when she was “disassociating.” All I ever wanted when moving to Knoxville was to settle in the hills permanently, and have some stability. I love Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, and so wanted to spend more time there than six months. Rent in Knoxville has risen significantly since I left, and there are frequent complaints on social media about all of the Californians who are moving to the state to LARP as “hillbillies.” Many of the raw acreages in Tazewell have quadrupled in price. I can't imagine how much money the cheap motels cost now. More recently, Cabral has been posting about a desire to move away from Tennessee, because of certain gender issues that she doesn't like there. I hope Tennessee continues to repel Californians for as long as possible. Cabral continued to dance at Mouse's Ear for a long time after I was fired, then The Ball, and more recently seems to be slaving away at a liquor store with a Mexican-looking boss who doesn't respect her schedule requests.

Cabral posts a lot of wonderful memes-- political memes that I totally agree with. Sometimes I post them on my own social media. Unfortunately, her great political memes make her seem more interested in activism than she actually is. The memes were a motivating factor in my talking to her about misclassification in the first place, in addition to her workplace comments.

Millenials and zoomers are often noted for having high rates of union approval, but limited union memberships. People like Roxy contribute to those low membership numbers. That is-- the privileged virtue-signaling dweeb who doesn't take risks to achieve goals aligned with their supposed values. Roxy sits on the internet a lot, posting Class War memes, but has never been to a picket line. She also posts quite a bit of material that makes me think she'd love to participate in the kind of bolshevik barbarism of last century's communist Russia-- that is, sadistic, murderous and unproductive loser activity that makes for a communist hellscape. I don't know what the future holds for Cabral's political activism, if any. I considered leaving her anonymous on this series because it might risk her future employment, but I don't think she's a threat to any boss anywhere. She doesn't do anything to rebel. She's nothing like me, and there is no need to blacklist her from being hired, because she does nothing to threaten any workplace status quo.

Roxy has pissed me off a lot this past year while I was writing this series. Several of her posts have been low-key shit-posting about the site. For example, I am still disgusted and traumatized by getting sexually assaulted by Ivywood. Roxy doesn't understand or take seriously that I was sexually assaulted by Ivywood, so she posted some joking and mocking memes after my Ivywood post. Roxy knows about how I have a security breach on my electronic media right now, and has done nothing to help me with it, such as contact me to notify me that it was going on.

If you worked with me at Mouse's Ear but weren't featured in this series, then congrats-- you were never offensive, scabby, interesting, or noteworthy enough to get put on blast, anonymously or not. I worked with a number of other dancers at Mouse's Ear who fit that category.

In the next few posts before concluding this series, I will discuss the NLRB, my private attorney search, and share important legal documents.