you know you are a stripper when....... You know all the words to "Girls, Girls, Girls." You are out in public and someone shouts out your stage name and your respond not realizing it wasn't meant for you. You get angry when you see lesbians walk into a club. After you've watched "Showgirls" for the 4th time, you say to yourself, "God, I really wanna move to Vegas!" You buy hand sanitizer and baby wipes in bulk and you don't have any kids. You made $300 in a night and are complaining that it was a shitty night. Your boyfriend has to remind you to take a shower before work because the blacklights will illuminate the cum stain on your tummy. Even your own mother calls your tribal tattoo a 'tramp stamp.' You feel totally comfortable being naked with only shoes and a choker on, bent over with your legs spread and looking another female straight in the face and asking, "You can't see my string can you?" You could fit a nights' wardrobe in purple Crown Royal liquor bag. You're on all fours, one can see ripples in the tit-job you got ten years ago. You have CDs you bring to the tanning salon. A pimple on your butt is more of a problem than one on your face. Your find yourself forced to dance to, "A Lap Dance Is So Much Better When The Stripper Is Crying," because you didn't tip the deejay. You see yourself in a mirror more than you see your own kid. You know that sanitizer & wipes along with your boob job is a tax write off. You get pregnant and try to migrate into waitress/bartending/house mom for supplemental income. Every pair of shoes you own has some sort of high heel. Trying to leave a couple hours early from work, it always seems some hospital has your cell phone on speed dial and your kid always has a 103-degree temperature. (There wouldn't happen to be a customer in the parking lot, would there?) You go out with 'regular' friends and feel the need to censor yourself on the dance floor. A "car accident" is the reason your eye is black. Your pet has glitter in its fur. You can judge how much money your work day will wield just by pulling into the parking lot and noticing familiar cars. A guy tries the pickup line "Don't I know you?" and you immediately think he must be a customer. Your cell phone address screen looks like this: Bambi (Jenny,) Aspen (Sharon,) Diamond (Debra) Raven (Melissa) Desire (Stephanie) Passion (Beth.) You know why baby oil is evil. You get dressed and undressed while not removing your shoes. You have to "think" when you introduce yourself. Sex kinda turns you off once you get home and sell it to the man you're supposed to. You don't own any porn, but you've met more porn stars than most people can imagine. You know why in the world a woman would possibly put hair spray over the latex on her nipples. You can pee, change shoes, change tops, smoke a cigarette and talk on your cell phone all at the same time. Breakfast takes place before you go to sleep. Asked the question, "Where have you been the last 2 weeks?" and the answer is, "My mom's been sick and I was visiting," (Code for, "I was recovering from an abortion.") You can show up for work 10 min, 40 min, 2 hours, or 3 weeks late and still have a job. Going out clubbing with friends, you are the only one who doesn't complain about the cover charge and drink prices. You think the house mom is your best friend. You gawk more at beautiful women than beautiful men. Your father unexpectedly walks into your work for the first time, sees you then family get-togethers thenceforth will never be the same. You've given more head on the way home rather than in a bed. It's become almost expected that any Mexican behind you will try to stick his tongue in your ass. Your wardrobe has more street value than your vehicle.
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