Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Many happy returns of the day

A bit of a belated post, but one I've been meaning to do. I went into work on December 31st, hoping to pull a double-shift. New Years Eve, after all! A lucrative holiday to be at work! Luckily, the club was raining by 2 p.m. and I had a feeling I would be able to countdown with friends at a party instead of counting stage tips after a set.

First, there were SO FEW girls during the day at the club, and SO MANY customers! I'm not sure if the dancers preferred to celebrate the holiday and take the day off, or if they assumed that it'd be a slow shift, but thankfully, there were just a few of us to a club FILLED with customers by 12:30 in the afternoon. And generous customers too! Everyone was in the mood for buying you a drink, tucking a fiver into your g-string when you walked by, or (and this was actually rarer) buying a lapdance. It wasn't much of a lapdancey day; it was more like groups of guys starting their parties early and feeling real generous and festive.

I was flagged down on stage by an Eastern European guy who had some cuteness potential, so I joined him after my set for a round of drinks. He could tell right away that there was no alcohol in my drink (my vodka tonic = tonic) and insisted that the bartender mix my drink right in front of him. She looked at me sympathetically, but somehow managed to mix me a real alcoholic drink and STILL (through some sleight of hand) slip me a virgin drink without him noticing. God bless her! Cuz, this guy was hell-bend on getting me drunk. It was one "vodka" tonic after another, so I got to fake a guilty tipsiness - "I better stop drinking, I think I've had too much!" and increasing sloppiness as the drinks went on.

Suddenly, he turned to me: "Do you like Shakira?" He gave me a $50 bill, told me to give it to the DJ to play a Shakira song and put me on stage to dance to it. I went up on stage and got showered by $200 in singles - which was quite the production, but very hard to gracefully squat down and scoop up, and even harder not to slip upon while I was dancing on stage. About an hour later, I got called up for my next stage set and while I was up there, another customer asked me if I'd have a drink with him after my set - I obliged, got a small tip from him, and then returned to Mr. Hips Don't Lie. He told me he was disappointed in me, he couldn't believe I talked to another guy, and asked me to get lost. I did, but laughed all the way to the bank as I walked away.

I'm not quite sure why, but the DJ has been playing these weird censored versions of songs at the club. For instance, he'd play a version of Kanye's Runaway that says "I sent this girl a picture of my . I don't know what it is with females, but I'm not too good at that shit." So, apparently, "shit" is okay, but "dick" needs bleeping out? Also, the censored Runaway version goes "Let's have a toast for the douchebags. Let's have a toast for the ." So, no assholes? Aren't we in a strip club here? I'm practically EXPOSING my asshole to all the douchebags when I bend over to gather my freshly showered bills, anyway...

Regardless, to a 2011 filled with good tips, no raids, and awesome new customers for all!

1 comment:

  1. Let's have a toast to many more magnificent Mona monologues in 2011!