I am feeling slightly less hostile this week. I’m not sure why. I went to the Gold Club and stayed in a hotel for two nights. I worked three shifts in a row. First night was horrible. I was glad I thought to bring money for the room cause there was no one in the titty bar to hook me up with the massive pile of cash I was counting on. Night two went pretty much the same way until late in the evening a put together looking middle aged dude with a tie sat at my stage and told me he had come from a wake. I took him to the boom boom room and squashed him with my juicy ass. Then I tied him up in what was pretty pathetic stocking bondage. After his wallet was drained he handed me a slip of paper. I assumed it was his number but no, even better, it was the address of his hotel. Yeah, I’m on my way, sure, cause I just danced for ten hours in eight inch platforms I clearly want to keep the party going at this 3am hour. Thanks for the suggestion dude but I’m gonna go wash the hooker off my face.
Day three was a gem to remember. Some creeper tried to talk me into giving him half price dances and then during the first song he came in his pants. Lovely. As the night went on, and on, and on there was no one in this club. I began to think that mr sticky spot would be the highlight of the evening but then like a unexpected check in the mail in walked Santa Clause. I saw dollar signs and ran up to him throwing my arms around him. After some simple pleasantries santa took a crumpled dollar bill and jammed his hand down my panties with it. Woah there santa, this is not that kind of club. He proceeded to tell me about a club where he finger fucked a dancer then put his finger in some other dancers mouth. So I l told him about the time I saw a feature dancer shove a dildo in her ass on stage, remove it and shove it in a customers mouth. Yep, it was story time. Finally after Santa made several attempts at putting dollar bills into my cooter I hauled him into the lap dance room. About two minutes into the song he tried to bite my boob and that was about all I could take. I grabbed his balls and twisted like I was trying to get a lid off a jar. I leaned in and whispered into his ear “you have been very naughty santa. Would you like me to rip your balls off or would you like to hand me a hundred dollars for this dance?” he gasped and tried to squirm. “You have tried to shove your hands in my panties, suggested that I am underage, and made every possible attempt to make me uncomfortable and take advantage of me. Fuck you santa. You are the reason that strippers hate their jobs” Then I pulled as hard as I could and he started to panic. “Don’t do that, please let go” “Oh I will let go when you hand me a hundred dollars for dealing with your bullshit. And if you don’t I’m gonna take this evil germ covered shoe and jam the heel into your eye socket. Sound fun?” he put his hand into his pocket and handed me a crispy ben franklin. I grabbed my things and walked off. When I went to tip out the DJ I mentioned that I almost killed santa. He laughed and said “you could send that creeper down the river and no one would notice.”
I left slightly irked and without enough money. On my way home some california surfer dude tried to talk to me. I told him I didn’t want to have to talk to men ever agin. His response: wow, I like that, you’re keeping it real.
I like New England today. I can hate everyone and no one give a shit. Fuck Santa. Fuck Surfers. Fuck you.
I feel better.