Treading water

Tonight started off obnoxious with a snide and judgmental man whom I somehow remained sitting with, determined to win him over into not being such an embittered asshole. This is a tactic I stupidly pursue in friendships and relationships too–I blame too much byronism at an early age–but eventually, thank god, I was called onto stage, before he had soured my mood–altho not before Autumn, who just started waitressing, came up and innocently asked if he wanted to buy me a drink. He did not. He would like me to die, that was my translation of his evil look.
And from there it’s been dances, and the two dollar bills and upped dance prices are working out great[1], despite the fact that Sparky is trying to foment rebellion among the dancers–girl wouldn’t know a good thing if it wanted a half hour VIP that didn’t require her to swap body fluids with another girl. In fact, she’d probably do it anyway. That is not a work ethic, that is bad business/health practice.

My second batch of dances was for an Israeli who is in town for a for a coffee conference (he’s opening a coffee shop in NYC.  “Good!” I told him. “It needs more good coffee!”). I tried to bond by referencing the Midtown stumptown at the Ace and it worked, so we talked coffee shop for a while.[2] I recommended he try Coava and Water Avenue, two of my favourites, and told him where he could get Intelligentsia and Ritual. Then we talked about my classes this term and how I missed Passover to work. Not that I’m observant, but part of my grade this term is based around a community experience &project. He said he’d be back tomorrow night to tell me which local roaster he liked best, so maybe more dances tomorrow. He was a sweetheart.

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My work person[3] Bibi smacked my ass so hard it brought tears to my eyes. At first I thought I was being a baby but she left a perfect print!

1-although they also upped the cut that we pay out from 5 to 8 dollars a dance. Before, most guys were usually too lazy or indifferent to ask for change, so my actual take home from dances has shrunk. I’m going to start asking for tips to try to mitigate this.
2- Regan makes fun of me, she says I start side saddle grinding when I’m having a conversation and forget to smile, and then she’ll do a bad babysitter impression of me, complete with gumcracking. Which is not fair because I do not chew gum in my dances!
3- her term, she explained she likes to have someone to check in with, laugh, regain her equilibrium, and then resume hustling. Like recharging a battery. which I get, she and Regan are my checkin battery/work lodestones

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