In this autobiography, subtitled A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper, Cody (better known as the writer of the film Juno) honestly described the year when, on a whim and (somewhat) out of character, she stripped in a variety of Minnesotan clubs. A pale and pasty cubicle dweller working as a copy writer after relocating to Minnesota to live with a guy she met online (or, as she calls it, the World Wide Waste of Time), she saw a sigh for a club's amateur strip night and decided to participate. One of only two actual amateurs, she didn't even place, but something about the experience resonated and over the next year and a half or so Cody worked her way from club to club, culminating in pay-per-digit one-on-one shows for men ranging from closet homosexuals to shoe fetishists (but water sports and other "fluid ounce" variations were strictly forbidden. Unusually, for a memoir of this type (and, indeed, memoirs in general), Cody doesn't reveal anything about her life growing up until the final chapter, and that itself is more a recap than anything else. Contrary to popular conception, she wasn't sexually abused (I was a little uncomfortable with her quip that this was because she wasn't attractive enough) or otherwise mistreated.
Cody's voice is detached, witty and amusing enough to hide the fact that she doesn't reveal anything too unsurprising in her memoir. It's surely not news that stripping's harder work than it appears, that the house take a hefty cut, that there are required minimums, that the drink prices are inflated or that partaking of said drinks is mandatory. In the end, it's that detachment that robs the book of warmth and human interest that would otherwise have strengthened the story. There's very little about the other women, and almost all of that is superficial. That's a shame, because I sense they may have had a more interesting story than Cody did. All in all an interesting enough diversion, but I'm glad I read it in the shop and didn't both buying it. - Alex
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