The Stall: The Life and Times of a Monger in Strip Club Bathrooms
Muddy
USA
I've seen it all. Drugs, Sex, Violence, Heartbreak, Betrayal, Urination, Hand Washing. All of it. Not too too well though, you can only see so much from the crack the bathroom stall door. You could say it was more of a vertical view than a horizontal one. But I was there for there some of the most undeniably sordid events in strip club history from my abode, my chamber....my throne.
You see some people strut into a strip club, some people do a little twist, and truffle shuffle to their seat, some shake their ass and walk the cat walk, not me, I never did any of those things (Well ok you got me, sometimes yeah) I normally take a B line right the bathroom, and secure a stall and claim it is as mine and defecate to mark my territory much like a dog claiming a fire hydrant as his own. It quickly becomes my home turf, my sanctuary, sanctuary which interestingly enough is what I proclaim loudly when management has tried multiple times to remove and extract me from my stall.
It's become my base of operations to work out of when visiting strip clubs, a home away from home. I'll begin building and making it a fortress, with materials I've found with toilet paper and seat coverings. A place to retreat too when I'm scared to say no to a half naked women, a place to hide from the tip parade, to brush my teeth, do my laundry, remove a stain, I never had to go home for any of it. I'll even save my urine in bottles in case of any water emergency. Those LA droughts are real. On top of that a place that is much less expensive than the VIP room, my OTC's are really ITB's (In the Bathroom) if I'm really honest with myself.
Many have asked "What's your relationship with the Bathroom attendant like?" Well to put it bluntly... not good. I often blow up the bathroom multiple times. To me the toilet is a sacred place so I don't put used toilet paper down it, I instead place around the stall as sort of "moat" if you will. A defense mechanism to shoo away intruders. I also tend to use fecal matter to paint drawings on the stall walls of what I did in this life, what my story was, so those that come after me once I leave this earth know full well of what went on. It's my way of passing down and giving to the next generation. I also create badass brave heart type markings on my face for intimidation purposes, despite the smell. None of these things seem very popular at the club or with the attendant. I also refuse to tip the $1 when I finally emerge.
If I do indeed emerge and I'm out in "the wilderness" as I call it or rather known as the urinal row, to go on a supply run. I'll then gather all the urinal soaps to stock up. I'm also the type that pees in the middle one, if I do indeed have to go.
Down in Tampa, at Mons Venus and Odessey 2001 there is no door on the stall, which has made things hostile and problematic with these methods. But I blame the club not me, who doesn't put a door on the stall? It's like dude come on I'm trying to take a shit here, it makes it awkward as fuck.
Anyway long story short, I've been arrested *many* a time all across America but in Germany for some reason I've been really well accepted! It's been really great! The girls appreciate me and find this lifestyle kinky. I even moved.
Komm ins Bad und hab einen beschissenen Tag!
You see some people strut into a strip club, some people do a little twist, and truffle shuffle to their seat, some shake their ass and walk the cat walk, not me, I never did any of those things (Well ok you got me, sometimes yeah) I normally take a B line right the bathroom, and secure a stall and claim it is as mine and defecate to mark my territory much like a dog claiming a fire hydrant as his own. It quickly becomes my home turf, my sanctuary, sanctuary which interestingly enough is what I proclaim loudly when management has tried multiple times to remove and extract me from my stall.
It's become my base of operations to work out of when visiting strip clubs, a home away from home. I'll begin building and making it a fortress, with materials I've found with toilet paper and seat coverings. A place to retreat too when I'm scared to say no to a half naked women, a place to hide from the tip parade, to brush my teeth, do my laundry, remove a stain, I never had to go home for any of it. I'll even save my urine in bottles in case of any water emergency. Those LA droughts are real. On top of that a place that is much less expensive than the VIP room, my OTC's are really ITB's (In the Bathroom) if I'm really honest with myself.
Many have asked "What's your relationship with the Bathroom attendant like?" Well to put it bluntly... not good. I often blow up the bathroom multiple times. To me the toilet is a sacred place so I don't put used toilet paper down it, I instead place around the stall as sort of "moat" if you will. A defense mechanism to shoo away intruders. I also tend to use fecal matter to paint drawings on the stall walls of what I did in this life, what my story was, so those that come after me once I leave this earth know full well of what went on. It's my way of passing down and giving to the next generation. I also create badass brave heart type markings on my face for intimidation purposes, despite the smell. None of these things seem very popular at the club or with the attendant. I also refuse to tip the $1 when I finally emerge.
If I do indeed emerge and I'm out in "the wilderness" as I call it or rather known as the urinal row, to go on a supply run. I'll then gather all the urinal soaps to stock up. I'm also the type that pees in the middle one, if I do indeed have to go.
Down in Tampa, at Mons Venus and Odessey 2001 there is no door on the stall, which has made things hostile and problematic with these methods. But I blame the club not me, who doesn't put a door on the stall? It's like dude come on I'm trying to take a shit here, it makes it awkward as fuck.
Anyway long story short, I've been arrested *many* a time all across America but in Germany for some reason I've been really well accepted! It's been really great! The girls appreciate me and find this lifestyle kinky. I even moved.
Komm ins Bad und hab einen beschissenen Tag!
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9 comments
Have you ever seen a woman in an alien mask pissing on a midget covered in thousand island dressing?
It’s the midget that’s covered in salad dressing. Not the pissing woman.
I’ll cut you some slack and count it as a win in your column if you saw all that shit but it was low-fat zesty Italian rather than thousand island.
I’ve never thought about spending such an extensive time in a strip club shitter. My thought is - it’s more worthwhile to be out trying to get dancing whores to fuck me.
I guess Muddy’s method saves money…