Most male Ybor City dancers will make you think of “Magic Mike,” but Scott is more like Mr. Rogers. Just swap out the red sweater for a thong that shows off the lipstick kiss tattoo on his ass.
The 32-year-old dancer at Bradley’s on 7th—second runner up in the 2024 Best of the Bay contest for “Best Stripper”—shows up an hour before his shift to catch up with regulars. He worries about Tom, a teacher whose mother had a fall last week. He makes David’s eyes sparkle by remembering the fellow Leo’s birthday.
“I was not a finalist because I’m the sexiest man alive—I’m not. Or because I’m the best dancer alive— I’m not. But I’m one of the nicer people who works in this industry,” he said. “And I think people recognize that.”
For runner up Cleo, who strips at Reign in Clearwater, kindness also goes a long way. Both she and Scott are among the highest tipped at their clubs. “I always make sure to talk to everybody, whether it’s their first time, or they’re never coming back,” she said.
Best Stripper is a category that gets giggles every year, but Scott, Cleo and your winner, Victoria at Reign, are among the best in the nation.
Tampa Bay’s reputation for sex work started near MacDill Air Force Base in WWII and took off in the 1980s when local strip club kingpin Joe Redner opened Mons Venus on Dale Mabry Highway. The Bay area is now synonymous with strippers thanks in part to movies like “Magic Mike”—based on Channing Tatum’s teenage stripper career in Tampa— and “Zola,” another true local story.
[content-2] The wholesome stripper
Scott’s first night stripping at Bradley’s was only the third time he’d been in a gay bar. His second time was at an amateur night at Johnson’s in Old West Tampa, where the owner told him, “Not a chance.” A month later, in March 2023, he booked an opening at Bradley’s.
“I sucked. He shouldn’t have offered me the job,” Scott said. “The cuter you are, the less good you can be at dancing. … I have a nice smile and a cute butt.”
Those assets could only get him so far. Patrons picked up on his self-consciousness.
“That first Saturday, a guy comes up to me and says, ‘I’m giving you these two dollars because you’re working really hard, but you suck.’ And he grabs my hips and starts saying, ‘This is how you need to dance.’… I’m not tipping you until you’re good, OK?’ And then July, four months later, he came up to me and gave me a five and said ‘You got much better.’ That was the best tip I ever got.”
Scott is sober, so the two free shots Bradley’s offers dancers each shift to enhance their performance won’t help. One of those early nights when he was stiff in the wrong ways, a security guard encouraged him to take his shots.
“I said to myself, ‘I will either conquer this sober or I won’t conquer it. … I’m not the world’s best dancer, but I’m now decidedly average, at least.”
Defeating his nerves and getting the moves right wasn’t about making money. Scott’s an accountant for a New York company by day. Growing up in New Jersey, seeing dancers on YouTube helped him come out of the closet. But he found gay bars intimidating, especially being sober. So he isolated himself from the LGBTQ community. When he moved to Tampa from New York in 2022, he pushed himself to do the things that scared him.
And Scott wants to make them less scary for others. He makes eye contact with everyone in the room, and lets more patrons dance with him than others do. “I’m the value dancer, but I know what it’s like to feel invisible. I want to be someone who makes people feel comfortable being here,” he said.
The honest stripper
For Cleo, dancing came naturally. As a former cheerleader and competitive figure skater, she was used to showing off her body. But she wasn’t used to lying. When she started stripping at a club in Tampa, her coworkers told her to use a fake name and give herself a fake backstory and personality. But she couldn’t keep track of what she told each customer.
“I got caught in a lot of lies at the beginning because I was trying to do that. And then I realized I didn’t really care. Like I was just gonna be myself,” she said, “If it worked, it worked. If it didn’t, it didn’t.”
It worked.
The 24-year-old (who kept a fake name) is one of the highest tipped dancers at Reign in Clearwater. By day she does cybersecurity, but dancing money bought her a new car and an apartment.
Cleo started stripping on a whim, but doesn’t recommend others follow in her eight-inch heel clad footsteps.
After visiting Tampa Bay in the pandemic, Cleo packed up her car and drove down from upstate New York hoping to get a job as a bartender. When the bar her friend worked at didn’t have an opening, they suggested she try dancing. For others who want to start stripping, Cleo advises doing more research.
“Don’t just talk to one or two dancers. Talk to people who work in different positions in the industry, and also realize that it is sex work,” she added. “You are selling yourself a bit.”
“A lot of people get into it, and they just think, ‘Oh, I can go on stage and dance and make tons of money,’ but that’s not what it is,” she warned. “People are gonna touch you, people are gonna say things to you, people are gonna try to get into your life, people are gonna judge you, and people are gonna reject you.”
The strong stripper
Victoria, voted Best Stripper in this year’s Best Of the Bay, started dancing five years ago to help her family immigrate to the U.S. from Cuba. Now that she’s made it happen, she dances for fun.
“I love to dance,” she said. “Everybody likes money, but I like to dance.”
Reign opened a year ago, around the same time the 30-year-old came to Florida from Syracuse. Victoria’s been dancing there ever since.
Victoria (also her stage name) prides herself in being friendly like Cleo and Scott, but customers know and love her for her muscular look, especially her tree trunk thighs. As a competitive bodybuilder and powerlifter, she can deadlift 360 pounds. Her next big challenge isn’t at the gym or the club. In a year or two, she hopes to open her own beauty salon.
“Me gusta desafiarme a mi misma y mostrar que siempre puedes más,” she said. Translated, it means: “I like to challenge myself and show that you can always do more.”
