I was chomping down on a lamb kabob after my shift last night and it dawned on me that I only* write about the guys who show up without underwear, who turn into semi-stalkers, who are cheap and grabby, etc. This a) perpetuates the idea that strippers work in demeaning environments, hustling assholes for a buck and b) is completely inaccurate! Maybe this is just part of the whole, using a blog to process stuff thing, so talking about the regrettable shit seems more worthwhile. Or, maybe I just want to make people chuckle with titillating/disgusting tales from work. Today's post goes out to the nice guys, a sizeable minority among strip club attendees! Thanks for tipping well, not insisting on getting my real name/phone number, asking if you can touch, offering good money for my used g-string (I still haven't sold it to the poor bastard), being up front about how much you expect to spend, not getting jealous (often times, even getting excited!) when I go make money off of other guys, bringing presents that are not ugly earrings or redundant bottles of perfume, wearing underwear, not wearing sweatpants, not crying during lapdances**, not asking my friend/the bartender where I live or if I have a boyfriend, and liking sounds other than your own voice.
*Asian gambling man is the exception
** This blog post has been a long time coming
It's so true. The term schadenfreude is pleasure derived from the misfortunes of others. So it's only natural that people like the sound of 'talking smack' but in a SC it just makes it that much better.
ReplyDeleteKudos for recognizing the men who make it all worthwhile. :)