OK all you fellow stripper hounds, I've worked up enough courage to ask you guys what you would do in the following unfortunate situation I was in. This actually happened, I shit you not:
So I was at this club where I was hoping to see one of my favorites, with whom I have had some wild times. I saw her (I will call her "A" and hope the letters don't get too confusing) on her way out, however, with her costume on, so I assume she was on break or something. I turn my head back to the stage, and I'm surprised to see another of my favorites ("B"), with whom I also have had some wild times with, just at another club. She remembered me and we embraced, and she told me she left the club she was at because it was unsafe; she started off here and went back because ... fuck, I don't remember, I just wanted to take her to the back so we could ravage each other. And we did, spectacularly and with near-total privacy.
I wanted to bask in the afterglow for a while and so I stuck around. I shouldn't have. Because my other favorite, "A," the one who's my favorite at this club came back from dinner. I was empty but I wanted to ride anyway, so we also went to the back. Sadly, once she sat on me she realized I had already gotten a dance and her attitude changed. She rode me for a third dance without stopping to ask me; she never did that before, and I get very angry when a stripper does that. I almost had to throw her off, and she responded: "Oh, now that you found someone else you're just gonna kick me to the curb?" No, that's not the case, but she was freaking me out. I couldn't stammer anything more coherent than sorry and "I'll get you next time," and we left the LD area.
Well, shit. A club I despised turned into a club I suddenly hoped would guarantee me a satisfying ending every time I went, then turned into a club where I had two favorites, one of whom now hates me and both of whom may hate each other.
Now, you may think that that's all the problems a guy can have in one night, and that it can't get any worse. And you'd be wrong.
I sat down with stripper "B," the one who was my favorite at the other club and told her my predicament. She told me to calm down and noted that "A," the one who was my favorite at this club was sitting with another guy about two tables from us. That other guy was one of her regulars, she said, and if she was going to steal one of her regulars, she has no problems stealing me away from her -- and then getting her regular back from "A."
So much drama in the club, I thought to myself, so I thought I'd be a grown-up and go over to their table and sell this guy about "A"'s LD prowess (and trust me, they're pretty good): "Get a dance from her, she's fantastic!"
A smile forms on the guy's face: "I know you! We went to high school together!"
Well, double shit. Once he said that I remembered who he was. Not only did we go to high school together, we kind of ran in the same circles. I didn't consider him a friend, but he was someone I could identify with. I certainly didn't think he would turn out to be someone who frequented SC's by himself. Of course, he probably thinks the same of me. All the while, "A"'s grinnin' like the Cheshire Cat. I put on a smile, say hey, how's it goin', etc., putting a positive spin on things, you know.
My heart sinks, however, when he says, "Yeah, your name comes up from time to time." That's when that lightning bolt of dread shoots up my spine, I excuse myself, pick up my jacket, tell "B" that this regular of hers is someone I used to know, and tear ass out of there.
I couldn't get that goddamn smile "A" had off my mind while driving home. Because, I felt, and I still feel to this day, she ratted me out to this guy I went to high school with. I curse the heavens above with my bad luck: If this guy didn't happen to drop by on this night, I could've blown "A" off for good. If I sweet-talked "A" better, maybe I could've massaged the situation when she sat down with him. Hell, none of this would've happened if "B" showed up. Or if I didn't go to this stripclub at all.
So, friends, my questions:
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Do you think "A," pissed off at me for getting satisfaction from "B" before her, told this high school classmate about my, er, "preferences?"
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For the record, I have had no blowback from this night while doing things, "living," around town -- no snickers from other classmates eating lunch at McDonald's or loud, point-blank confrontations of, "I know you like to do (blank) at titty bars!" in the middle of a coffee shop or anything. Then again, I haven't bumped into anybody from high school yet, thank God. Do you think this guy told his friends about me? (And by the way, I suspect this guy is savvy enough to troll through sites like this. So if you are reading this, well, fuck me. Hi, how ya doin'!)
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Should I try and patch things up with "A" when I only suspect, without proof, that she snitched on me?
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Am I being paranoid, and in fact I could get dances from both of them without one of them getting jealous? If someone put a gun to my head, I would prefer "B": Mileage is great with both but for different reasons, and the tiebreaker is that I have carried good conversations with "B," but with "A" it kind of stalls before I feel obligated to go the back with her.
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Should I just never go back to this club, ever again? For your information, I think this is an SC where you can call and ask if so-and-so is working that night, but I asked both strippers about their schedules and, by golly, they're the exact same.
Seriously, I could use some advice. Maybe I need to calm down. Or maybe I have to leave town for good.
