Beware of Strippers Outside the Club
st33h
Florida
Monday, February 1, 2016 12:00 AM
I'm not politically correct. I'm not a dick, but I'm not politically correct. I know what I know, I try and be a good guy, but in the end, I know what I know.
Strippers seem to be like stray cats to me. Let me rephrase that, the strippers I've had contact with outside the club seem to be like stray cats. Those inside the clubs operate from what is usually a strictly mercenary viewpoint, which is fine. You're going to a club to see some skin, hopefully more. You want a service and it's fair for the strippers to charge for their service.
If they get possessive, or provide shitty service, you can always leave and go somewhere else. I'm sure there will be a line of guys to take your place.
It's the outside the club stuff that things get fucked up.
On occasion I used to tell the dancers what I did for a living when they'd ask. Sometimes there'd be some conversation about their experiences, sometimes, they'd ask questions. Once in a while I'd get a client out of it.
The last stripper I told what I did wanted to hire me. She was hot and I said sure. I agreed to do it for a good down payment and payment over time. She was off heroin for six months she said, and she was trying to keep clean. She paid the initial fee, no reservation, and I did the work, and then she called me up and said she was desperate for cash and could I refund some of the money to her. I agreed. I shouldn't have, but again, she was hot. Getting paid turned out to be a god damn nightmare after that. I eventually got enough to cover my costs and a little extra and decided the headache from the additional fighting just wasn't worth it.
I saw her at the club occasionally after that. Occasionally she'd text me and want to chit chat. That's fine. I can be nice. I She lost her job at the club but she continued to text me on occasion looking for advice.
She called me up desperate, the other day. She said she was homeless, sleeping in her car, contemplating suicide, hadn't eaten in days, and could I spare $40. It was cold and I had some extra cash so I said fine. When I went to see her, she shows up with someone I can only presume was a pimp and tells me that he's letting her sleep in his house. She's haggard, she's got scabs on her face and she smells like urine. I know she's back on heroin but I give her the money and walk away.
Last night the bitch calls me at midnight and when didn't answer she texts me telling me she's stranded in one of the bad areas in Detroit.
I blocked her.
Strippers out of the club are like stray cats. You try and be nice, feed them once, and they keep coming back for more. You're nothing more than a source.
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