Anything But A Wasted Read
Book Review on Anything But A Wasted Life
This is a more casual summary/commentary by EIC Paige Johnson to match the vibe of Sita Kaylin’s first memoir: So, I’ve had the paperback a long time in my pile of SW memoirs but had dozens of audiobook hours to burn, so got hooked (ha :/) on that, and now I’m jonesing for the other two-three diary-esque books in this Anything But series. When I tell you this is transgressive fun, don’t get your pasties in a bunch if you don’t like some of the literally shitty things that happen (in a jerkoff booth, no less) and are joked about. If you liked Asa Akira’s Dirty Thirty or Insatiable Porn: A Love Story [review here], this is more intense, a deep dive into degeneracy made somehow even more light-hearted or laughable after the screaming, punching, or typical slew of strip club lame-os.
Admit I was iffy on the sorta smokey reading voice but pretty soon it became soothing. Hypnotic like when the ketamine’s about to kick and my eyes feel pleasantly dusty, shoulders slouchy. Anyway, it’s about a San Fran woman who chooses stripping over law school and keeps at it for decades. Gotta cute tagline: “Heart, humanity, tits and wit.” There are lots of clever lines on the clients—and she even claims she really would really finish during some lap dances! She’s smart at tacking pleasantries to the end of rules: “You have to have fun” softens awkwardness w/ guys. Most don’t touch but ironically the women are worse about it. Think bachelorette party insufferability.
She starts doing mild brief extras at some clubs and makes clients feel special by doing things like taking their shirt off, though she has to be careful w/ frequent undercover cops. (Gotta remember that for my stories.) She’s always trying to make everybody have a good time though so many guys get pouty on her or her coworkers ruin things being inconsiderate. (Don’t leave your lunch to mold on the catwalk, kitty!)
She still does this at 50 (30+ years in the biz and certainly doesn’t look or act it, so fresh). Talks about how now vs 90s club girls act/dress too similar so it’s less of á novelty to pay for. I like the commentary on weird stage decisions too, like plants, vibrating floors, gross-getting carpets. Pretty funny, giving you stats and punchlining, “I just made that up,” often mentioning being a bit lazy. Yet she often comes off grateful and creative, a go-getter and peace-maker.
She was raised what could’ve been normal and upscale if her Jewish hippie parents’ money didn’t all go to cocaine and letting their dealer live with them and deck her, making her order drugs for them!! She acknowledges how messed-up that is but has forgiven the people in her life then. She still seems pretty tight with her frustrating mom.
The sense of smell and humor amid dark situations is most memorable. I also love how she tells you where she is sometimes when she’s writing it, like sprawled on a club breakroom floor with a notepad and bottle of blue vodka.
The line about stripping being like the mafia, how it continually lures you in until you feel like you can’t leave, was a cool concept to write about. She actually deals with the mob—doesn’t say many specifics about Cali ones, but for three months, a club hosted her in in Osaka and Tokyo. It was horrific with the language barrier and nobody tipping and all the handlers coming off like slave owners.
The book bounces around a bit but not too much or without seaming. For instance, as a teen, her and her friend tried to sell themselves on acid to pay a friend’s bail. Incidentally, that is when they run into cops who let them hang out in their car all night to spectate crimes around the Tenderloin. They have a blast and nothing that sinister happens, but there’s definitely a creepy undertone. Eventually, she does prostitute w/ strip club regulars and even gets tens of thousands of dollars for some inexperienced little work. Though her and the client both often feel the physical letdown after all the buildup to the “deed.”
There are flashbacks to her anorexic lez cutter days in an asylum. At the halfway point, it’s more like diary (vivid enough to sound vlog) entries that are so entertaining and nuts with casual crack use, regulars who wanna get married, pouty BFs, trickster girls, cheap “billionaires,” etc. What I said simply doesn’t do it justice.
There’re two other sequels out now (Anything But a Wasted Heart and Anything But a Boring Life) and I’d love to get them all. Kindle Triple Point Days or audio releases, I’m counting on you.
I also recommend Sita Kaylin’s Instagram I learned about from a fellow GoodReadser. She’s still stripping and releasing memoirs in the series and is an excellent photographer.