tonight was slow and good only for the experience it provided of switching cash to credit and closing out credit tabs on their system. It also highlighted male entitlement, what jerks people are to people in the service industry, and the bizarro female habit of coming to the strip club in packs to treat the women working badly, not tip, and generate a lot of bad feeling so they can soothe themselves that at least they aren’t fucking strippers. ok then.
I danced for this guy a little bit ago and he seemed like he would be fine but he kept trying to touch me. After the first song I stopped being so pleasant about it.
“I’m sorry!” he said. “So many rules, it’s so hard to keep track of!’
It happened again.
“You have so many rules, I don’t understand!”
“You’re an adult, I know you can do this. Remember what I said about no touching.”
“Why do you have so many rules? :(((((( ” (literally that face) “Are they really necessary?”
I pinched his nipple as hard as I could and dug my nails in around it.
“Ow!” he said. “Ow! wow! why! that really hurts!”
“You don’t like that?” I acted surprised. “You don’t want me to do that again?”
“No! Thank you no.”
I did it again.
“Are you sure you don’t like that?”
“Yes!” he yelped.
“What about now? Are you sure?” I pinched harder. “I mean it’s just really hard to keep track of what you do and don’t like there’s so much, are you sure, what if I just do it a couple more times, I bet I can change your mind!” I pinched harder and twisted.
He sat there in silence for the rest of the dance and left without tipping but more importantly without touching me again.