Business lessons I learned in a strip club.

So in my teenage years—well before anybody probably should—I worked at a popular strip .

For all its pros and cons, my biggest takeaway was something I now call creating the fantasy. It's a concept I applied as a professional musician, while working in hospitality, and now—more importantly—running my content production agency, which has produced multiple seven figures a year for over a decade.

And no, the lesson isn’t about how to shake my ass. That’s always come naturally to me.

I first caught on to this idea when I noticed something: the most popular strippers—the ones who got the most attention and made the most tips (it was all cash back then)—weren’t necessarily the prettiest or most skilled dancers. They were the ones who made every guy in the room believe that they had a chance.

Whereas the less popular girls just went through the motions, the popular ones made the audience feel something. They gave the impression that they were seen. That they were wanted. That they mattered. That they were special. That they could “get it”.

The girls reading this know exactly what I’m talking about. It’s an energy. A glance. A subtle movement. A look.

Most people think this world is all tits and ass, but there’s deep psychology at play. These women were consciously creating a feeling. They made men feel worthy of attention. Worthy of love.

When you break it down as a business—again, not necessarily condoning the industry—the "problem" being solved is clear: men feeling invisible, unwanted, unloved. And the service provided? The fantasy that, for a moment, they were seen.

I took this concept and applied it as a professional musician.

When you play gig after gig, song after song—it gets repetitive. It starts to feel like work. But I had to show up every night and give the audience something. So I always brought high energy. I rocked out. I made it seem like I was having the time of my life.

And here’s the thing: that energy is transferable. When I brought the fire, the audience felt it. That’s what creating the fantasy is—it’s giving people a feeling. Making them feel something they didn’t before.

And yeah, I might’ve stolen a few hip movements and looks from the strip club days. I’d make eye contact with everyone in the crowd—even if it was just a few hundred or maybe a couple thousand people. I tried to make each one feel like I was playing just for them.

How do you think that made them feel?

Now, in business—this is where the concept brought the most success.

I work to create the fantasy for my clients that every single day, I wake up wanting to help them win. Like they’re special. Like they’re our only client. Like they have everything from me.

In practice, I train my customer service and bookings team to answer the phone like they’re talking to an old friend.

If Claire calls up and says, “Hey, it’s Claire from XYZ,” we don’t just say, “Hi, Claire.”
We say, “Claire! Oh man, how are you? So good to talk to you. How’s [insert personal detail]?”

The response on the other end of the line? Surprise, joy, connection.
Clients think, “Wow… they actually wanted to talk to me today.”

They feel seen.

Out on the road—on shoots, projects, campaign work—I teach my creators to bring an experience. To be high-energy, creative, passionate. The client should feel that this team loves what they do. That they’re lucky to be working with us. That we see them.

It’s a performance. All of it. But it’s a truthful one because it’s rooting in foundation that we love what we do and out intention is always to be our best,

So whatever stage you step onto—whether it’s a real stage, a client presentation, or a project kickoff—step onto it knowing exactly what the audience needs... and give it to them.

Create a space where their desires, hopes, and dreams feel possible.

This has been one of the most powerful tools in my creative career.
And “creating the fantasy” might be the very thing that helps you create the life you really want.

And you know what?

You can definitely get it.