It’s an okay crowd for a Tuesday; everyone’s telling me the January lull is over, and anyway I’m more broke than I have been in years, so I’m back at work.
Leaving the lap dance room I see Autumn with two guys. She seems to be concentrating on the more attractive, less drunk one, so when his friend flails nearer to me I take my chance.
“A lapdance sound great! But I have to wait for my friend.”
“I think he looks busy with Autumn,” I answer, pondering my chances.
“He should be busy!” he slurs.
“We can be busy,” I offer. “Busy doing some depraved things in back.”
Autumn’s guy perks up at this and walks away from her, toward us. Dammit. Autumn hovers, indecisive. I sigh. But the friend helps me out.
“He should get a lapdance! I’ll get him a lapdance!”
“I do,” Autumn’s guy agrees. “I need a lapdance.”
This is too easy. “No, what you need is a two girl show.” I wave Autumn back and run my fingers through his hair, . “Right? What you need is two girls, all. Over. You.“
Autumn catches on and starts rubbing his shoulders. “Yeah, right?”
Friend comes back. “Come on bro! Do it! Two girls! Whooo! We’re from Seattle,” he confides.
“Seattle, huh,” I itsy-bitsy spider walk my fingers down his chest to linger at his navel, then belt buckle. “Then you need a real P_____ style lapdance because we’ve heard about the rules in Seattle and that sounds like such a drag.”
“We’re wild here,” Autumn agrees. “You need a wild lapdance.”
“I love redheads,” the guy sighs. I nod encouragingly.
“But,” he says, and I can already tell I’m about to be annoyed because “but” is like the most annoying word out of a stripclub customers mouth ever, always a precursor to something even more annoying, I realise this is a contradiction but you’ll see what I mean:
He continues. “I own my own restaurant. I don’t have to pay for a lapdance. I get free lapdances all the time. I’ve dated strippers before you know. I know how you are. I can have free ones whenever I want.“
(emphasis totally mine because see how it just got more annoying? I don’t want you to miss that fatuous and fallacious statement.)
I run my fingers back up his chest, stop at his nipple. Fiddle with it through the fabric.
“But you’re in a strip club right now,” I say.
“Yeah but I don’t have to p–“.
“You came here to our work place, and, as you say, you’ve dated strippers so you know how it works–” I pinch his nipple.
“Ow,” he says. I smile brightly.
“You’re in a strip club now, where we are working, and lapdances are what we sell.” I pinch again. “It’s a little like if we came to your restaurant and sat down and then refused to buy anything because, ‘Hey! We don’t actually want food’.” I pinch his nipple again, unable to contain my irritation.
“You’re being that girl,” he says, trying to smile.
“Yes, I am.” I let go and pat his chest. “Because I don’t like you.”
I hear Autumn give a scandalized gasp of laughter as I walk away.
I texted her to ask if she remembered any other parts of the conversation.
1- Kat used to say that nodding subtly sends a subliminal signal that they should agree with you. Strip and Get Rich echoed this. Sometimes it works and sometimes it makes the guys laugh but l can work with laughter.
“Emanuel obviously knows that such a state of affairs is intolerable to children, as he sends his own to a progressive school whose director staunchly opposes standardized testing.”
And this is like my favorite thing I’ve seen on craigslist:
I practiced new tricks with Regan and Autumn last night, and got one, but the Ironman one that Regan does so easily (even after over a month exercise free for her implants) is killing me. I finally got it at one point, letting go of the pole with my hand and relying on the tension between the back of my right knee and front of my left, only to slowly slide to the ground whimpering in pain.
“your face has a really unattractive expression on it right now,” Regan observed dispassionately.
the expression of one manfully controlling shrieks of intense anguish, I’m sure.
It’s funny how fast things can fall apart. Relationships, obviously, but also work. Work environments. &c&c. Kind of a lot has happened since last week and I took notes which is good cause I don’t even remember it all off the top of my head. Some really fun shenanigans with Regan and this girl who I can’t think of a pseudonym for–it’s midterms ok and I have so much I should be doing besides this, like for example sleeping, or rereading Daughters of the Shtetl, or maybe Polin 18. But Regan and Shauna were having a bad night, and to be honest I was only having a good night because I’d lost my mind and was full on channeling Bibi and just going all out. I figured one way or another–blog, tactless comments made on fb about the new two way contact policy–I’d probably lose my job soon so what the hell, I could hustle with impunity. I started telling guys firmly that I wouldn’t be taking no for an answer and then frog marching them into the back room. One guy took advantage of my back being turned on the way to the room to try to stick his finger in my butt. I had to hold his hands really tight the entire time.
“Oooh you just have the strongest grip! Mmm, I love a man with strong hands. Yeah, squeeze them!” He got really into it and managed to make it through the whole dance without touching me, and he was the only problem customer. I’ve been able to keep selling my usual amount of no contact lap dances, which is a relief, but not enough.
One of the surprise offshoots of the two dollar bills is that the past four weeks stage money has been awful, so I need to sell a lot more dances to leave with my normal (pre-two dollar bill and club cut of the lapdance increase) take. I happened on a drunk 21 yr old, who was having his first night in a strip club. He was very vocal. I could tell from the way he kept looking around the lap dance room and then increasing his moans that this wasn’t about a lap dance at all, he just wanted to be seen enjoying a lap dance. Totally different, and in a way kind of more fun. Since we were both performing more for everyone else in the room than for each other, realism went out the window.
“Oh yeah!” i said gleefully. “Mmm!” I got loud too, because what the hell. The girl three seats down from me was getting a deep tissue breast massage from a customer as she kissed another girl. On the scale of obnoxious lapdance behaviors, the outrageous (and probably painful) way i was slamming into his lap and slapping his inner thighs seemed like less of a risk to other girls’ money than the rampant gropage and touching happening around the room. I spanked myself and told him how great he was, then I squeezed his bicep.
“Oh my god, your bicep is huge!” I grabbed the other one. “Oh my god, the other one’s even bigger!” I’m not above stealing lines from nineties teen movies.
“I’m the hottest guy you’ve had all night, huh?”
Autumn was giving a dance next to me and kept looking over and giggling. It made me moan louder. I winked at her. When my back was turned to him, I let myself laugh.
“Oh sugar, are you. I wish I could just dance for you all night.”
“You can!” he said eagerly. “Or at least until my money runs out.”
What a straight-forward offer. He really won me over with that one, and his ten dollar tips for each song. 8 songs later, he was out. He’d dropped a 20$ on the couch during the first song, and I’d watched it slowly slide toward the floor, thinking if he didn’t notice its progress during the dance then ok: compensation for all the moaning. By the 5th song I was feeling guilty about this–20 isn’t enough for another dance, so it’s not like he could spend it on a different girl. Plus, I try not to be too greedy, even though it’s hard on nights like that. I picked it up.
“You dropped this,” I said.
“Why’d you do that?” Regan asked later. “It’s all fair game!”
Bad habit, I thought.
So more on our demented hustle later. Regan’s out of town this week and I couldn’t face working without her tonight. I counted back over the past seven months and I have actually neverworked a shift without her in my entire time at Weird Club. Isn’t that shocking? I’m practically in mourning.