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IWantHerOnMe

I'd live this way again

Its 2015. We're in The Last Days of Follies, which isn’t a Netflix special about the legendary ATL venue for men of culture and women who generally uh, are uncultured. I was a night shifter in those days, I had friends trying to make it in the record business. We were trying to get the buzz up in every club and as far as strip clubs we mostly worked Platinum but also Eyecandy and Follies. I went out with them to help out and of course to have fun.

Problem with the fun part though is I hate night clubs. I don’t drink, do drugs, dance or draw attention to myself so what the hell. I was cool to be the square one there on business. Accept for strip clubs because hey they have strippers.

But the point is, to me, all clubs were and are places where little good could happen. My friends were loud, impulsive, light seeking creatives. I thought before I spoke, am direct and aware of my surroundings, I’m the designated driver and the quiet guy who notices trouble could be coming. This is all important for later.

We park, roll in and get settled into a section. My head is on a swivel as usual. My friends are making fun of
me as usual. They’re ready for bottles as usual. I’m ready for a water bottle as usual. We always came to spend so most of the dancers took notice. And on the pole, there she was.

The Tale of the Tape:
5 foot one
Baby face
Slim built
Mocha skinned
Everything out, everything trimmed
Smile that could light up a bong
Body tight as a blunt
Wavy hair, all hers, like SZA without lip fillers

If I could draw my dream look that’d be one of the first sketches in the book. It was like Ace seeing Ginger in Casino the first time except trap was playing not garage rock, she had better legs than Sharon Stone over those heels, she was topless and she had the money tossed at her not the other way around. She doled out thanks you’s with a valley girl vocal fry when I went to tip as she caught my eye right like I catch walleye.

She’s was a 10. Still is. With all her clothes on she has men turning there heads like they dropped something. She knows this too. Confidence is as attractive as curves.

When she came up to me she asked for dances straight off. I pulled out a couple bucks and joked that she coulda at least asked my name. She said I struck her as the kind of guy who knew from the moment I looked her way whether I was interested in her or not,.

She said she noticed me because of my demeanor. She said likes to cultivate regulars because she feels safer with regulars but that’s hard to do on nightshift. She notes those traits I listed earlier as traits of men who are going to be consistent money, as opposed to here today, gone tomorrow clout chasers.

I was surprised she opened up with me like that. Most guys don’t like to feel like a dollar amount but that doesn’t bother me as long as the dancer does a good job, and I told her as much. That was a good read. She had me marked before she heard my voice.

We ended up drifting into a conversation about reading people, manipulation, honesty, boundaries and uh, how soft my hands and lips were apparently. She cradled my head to her boobs and said her responses in my ear. I made her keep her hands where I could see them because I didn’t want to flash my friends and didn’t want to close the show ITC. I wanted more than that.

You know you met someone worth keeping around a while when she looks like Halle Berry and you can talk for 3 hours and still not have finished your conversation. I have no idea how many songs we chatted for or how many juices I bought for her (she also doesn’t drink) because I looked up and it was 15 minutes before last call and she had to tip out. That was probably the most money I spent on one dancer in one sitting on a day that wasn’t the dancers birthday or mine. We were both hungry so we agreed to meet at the nearest Waffle House.

Now for the record in my early 20s I took tons of dancers out. That was kind of typical after the club/show/event for me back then. It was basically sugaring and most dancers were not good company for me then and that’s actually gotten worse in most cases. They tend to be bitchy, rude and hard to take anywhere, self involved and delusionally self interested, intellectually deficient and selfish to the bone, and nowadays think they are slick and try to do as little as possible. I have zero in common with the entitled, lacking in social skills/prefomance and pseudo spirtuality common among the modern stripper but my girl is #NotLikeTheOtherGirls.

Over an all star special we talked about minor stuff like music, but also finances and ethics in online spaces, reliable media sources and the importance of primary sources and other dweed shit as my friends looked at us like we were fucking nuts, which I get. Most people in there early 20s don’t talk about that kinda stuff. We found out that we are both material people to the core. She doesn't read Chicken Soup for the Soul. Years later, she reads Die With Zero. We think on the same plane.

She told me so much about herself that have proven to be true over whats now been nearly a decade. You know your getting kinda close to a dancer when she brings up WhySheStrips. She’s forthright about choosing dancing because she can set her own schedule, stack money and do as she pleases. She doesn’t play the poor me victim about dancing, and she’s actually annoyed at how some people wreck the stories of actual victims with there whining. She has a 200 mph drive, goals and is self aware which can actually get her into trouble sometimes in the strip club milieu. And I think I drove 200 miles an hour dropping off most of my friends so I could take her to somewhere we could finish the job.

I wasn’t seriously dating at the time, and wasn’t even thinking about dating her but she stood out above most of the chicks I saw outside at the time for basically one reason: she could talk about, be interested in, and be interesting about something other than what got her something she wanted that second. Might be a low bar but she cleared it.

Plus the nightcap was as good as I thought it would be. That night was the start of years of great ones.

This is the story about my first and current ATF (All Time Fav). Dealing with her I learned about clubs, learned about dancers and learned about me. There aren't any horror stories here but there could have been. Warning: future articles about she and I contain me engaging in Escalating Levels of Simptastic Acts. I’m sure the comments will be civil and highbrow in response to my irresponsibility.

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