Thursday, November 25, 2010

The Daily Grind

My last shift was spectacular! It was exactly my kinda day, because I didn't have to hustle anyone new. It was one loyal regular customer after another until my shift was over. Hot!

First was Alan. Alan has been my customer for a little over a year, and he's one of the most interesting people I know. He's half white American, half Puerto Rican, and (like lots of biracial folks) has developed some really radical race politics and I find him apologizing for his white half a lot. He went to Yale for college, then went off to fight the Gulf War before coming back to the U.S. and making it HUGE in the hedge fund world. Apparently, he's the big cheese. Ordinarily, I'd think that's no good, but there's something about Alan that's really fucking awesome. We have this hilarious pun-peppered banter that genuinely cracks me up. Also, he has random pockets of knowledge about things (i.e. he's read up a whole lot on Zora Neale Hurston) and is totally non-pretentious about talking about stuff he knows. Since I switched to this new club, I haven't seen him - but he finally made his way over and we had a blast! A bunch of lapdances, a couple "drinks," and a lot of laughing were the perfect way to start my day! Halfway through Alan's visit, I noticed Irish Gold was there. I wanted to kick it with Alan longer; he'd made the special trip just for me, plus he's got LOTS of money. It's rare that I feel bad for rich guys from the investment world, but I do remember several times at my Manhattan club that Alan's generosity and wealth made his strip club visits miserable. Like, usually he'd take me to the champagne room for like 2-3 hours straight, but one day he just wanted to sit, have a few dances and drinks with me, and that was totally fine with me! But the other girls at the club and the champagne hostess were going insane trying to figure out why he wasn't spending so much money, and eventually their gentle coaxing turned into not-so-gentle cursing as he politely declined all offers to visit the champagne room! He was getting sort of pissed, remarking on how you'd think spending tens of thousands of dollars (true: this guy must have spent at least 12 grand in my presence alone at my last club) would earn him stress-free visits, but no such luck...

I excused myself to say hello to Irish Gold, and right off the bat he was pissing me off. I think I've jinxed him with too much praise, but the truth is: Irish Gold is the perfect customer when times are slow at the club. He's reliable, generous, and a sure thing. But when the scene is busy, he fucking sucks! He tries to hijack all my time! When I went over to talk to him, he wanted me to "finish up" with Alan before I gave him any time. (Knowing Alan, he could spend a full day at the club, hopping in a car service to Southern Jersey well after my shift ends...and spending good money all the while!) I told him my customer wasn't likely to leave any time soon. So then he starts on this long rant about how seeing me with this other guy reminded him that I have "smart, educated" customers who can make me laugh, and he's just a guy from humble beginnings and he got all insecure on me. The good thing was, he ended up spending a bit more money than he usually does (if I "had to give a dance" to the other guy, he'd be like: let me just take you instead!). But still, most of the day was conversation not about our usual subjects (settlement freezes in Palestine or the strategic use of the word "terror" in the US media or animal testing in the cosmetic industry), but about how much he hated sharing me with these other guys, and did I see him as "just" a customer?

Also, Academic Asshole is now my customer! You may remember him from here. If you do, you read my blog way too closely :) Anyway, Academic Asshole never wanted any dances from me, but always wanted to sit and chat about Said, Cesaire, Malcolm, and others and why he felt compelled to only consider "black women as potential wives". While I do enough of this in my other grad student existence (and don't get paid for it), I slowly started ignoring him because I never made a penny off of him and I don't need to waste time at work chatting about antiracism with someone who'd have Fanon turning in his grave. So a couple weeks ago, during a lull (Academic Asshole was the only one there), I was in the corner reading (incidentally, it was Freire I was reading!) and Asshole fetishist guy came over, interrupted, and sat down to chat. I guess he hadn't picked up on my strictly-business approach...After a brief chat about qualifying exams, health benefits for adjuncts, and why we both find Gilroy boring as hell, the conversation turned to stripping. I inevitably turned it on, telling him that I get really aroused giving lapdances, and that his assumption that I was just doing this to put myself through grad school was all wrong. Before long, he asked for a dance, and ended up spending a whole chunk of time with me in the lapdance area! Well, he came back the other day, and again, our banter followed the academic-sexual trajectory, with lucrative results for me!

Next was a guy I call Ketchup Popsicle. I'd met him randomly several months ago and we hit it off. He's a salesman, as he told me, and I told him that he was so smooth he could sell a ketchup popsicle to a lady in white gloves. (Name that movie reference!) Anyway, he gets a bunch of dances and does the unbuttoning his shirt through them. On the one hand, I really like when the guy sits down for his dance and opens his shirt: it probably means he wants you to scratch and stroke his chest (and not suck his dick!), which is good news for me. But on the other hand, I feel like the visual image of a bare chested guy getting a lapdance screams "brothel" and would not look favorable in a raid or on a surveillance camera. Regardless, he's got these interesting red freckles on his chest, which make me think maybe he WAS eating an actual Ketchup Popsicle earlier in the day, and thus, my nickname comes full circle.

I ended my day with my favorite new customer. He's this half-Bengali, half-Italian (yes, crazy mixture!) 24 year old kid, who's so cute I'd adopt him if there weren't some background check procedure that prevented strippers from legally adopting their strip club patrons. He's been coming in for me for about a month or so, and he's so drama-free and adorable that it drives me nuts. I took off a shift last week, and he actually "spent the money he would have spent that day" before and after my day off to make up for lost time! (And in this case, time IS money!) How cute is that? Hernik's his name, and sometimes I feel he's too innocent for his own good. Like, one time he said "I'm so glad we're both single." And I was like, what do you mean? And he said "Well, if we weren't, neither of us would be here!" Cute!

And that was my day! I saw another customer of mine lurking, but I actually bypassed him because my good regulars were there, and I LOVE when I can afford to be picky. I avoided that gross guy because he only gets 2 lapdances from me and spends both of them convincing me to meet him outside. Check out what he said to me last time! He was like, "We don't have to meet for sex. Just for blow job and breast massage." Ew, I think I just lost my Thanksgiving appetite. I told him that's not something I'm into. But THEN (get this!) after the lapdances, he asked me if I had ever had sex, and I told him that the last person I'd had sex with was my ex-boyfriend. He gave me this long speech about how I shouldn't sleep with my boyfriends, because otherwise none of them will marry me and it will take the allure out of marriage for the guy if he's already slept with me. Yes, this was right after he propositioned me for hotel room fellatio, which, apparently, screams marriage material.

Thanksgiving thankfulness for all the wonderful customers who pay my bills, make me laugh, or remind me that strip club patrons aren't all douchebags!

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