Disposing of the Evidence
rickdugan
Verified and Certifiable Super-Reviewer
For starters, I visited my favorite at Club 1 and came to find out that she was covered in glitter. Unfortunately I did not learn this until she had transferred a fair amount of it onto my face and shirt. It was so damned dark by the bar that I did not notice it sooner. I only learned of it when another dancer commented about it, saying something to the effect of "you're gonna' get some guy divorced with that glitter you're wearing." This led me to step under some lights in another part of the club, where indeed I found that I had been infected. Imagine a grown man in the bathroom with baby wipes trying to get the glitter off of his face. The rocket scientist who covered me in it lost some money last night and will not be seeing another nickel from me in the future.
Next stop, Club 2, I was pitched OTC by an attractive girl and I bit. Now it was bad enough that she gave about the worst OTC performance that I've had in a while, but what compounded my displeasure was discovering her stripper bag in my car this morning. And, of course, my vehicle stank from one of those crappy Victoria Secrets scents that I not-so-affectionately refer to as eau du skank.
So my morning started with the disposal of both a nice shirt and this bag filled with stripper gear, and then moved on to a full service interior cleaning of my car to remove any lingering traces from that very smelly bag. As is the norm with VS eau du skank, everything it touched stank of the stuff. I felt bad about tossing the bag, which included stripper heels, her outfit and a hair iron, but I have no idea how to get in touch with this girl as I never received a phone number. Obviously I cannot just drop it at the club and I do not know when she is working again or when I will be going back. Now I might have been able to store it somewhere until the stars aligned again, but I could not take the chance given how badly the bag reeked - the scent was so strong that it would have filled up anyplace I tried to keep it with that odor and infected anything that it touched. Also, if the bag or any of its contents were discovered, how in the world would I ever explain it?
The most disturbing part, however, is that it was only good fortune that allowed me to get ahead of these issues. If a dancer had not tipped me off about the glitter, or if someone went to my car this morning before I did, then I might be having a different discussion now. I clearly need to do a better job of keeping my eyes open during these adventures.
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Holy shit! That's a close one. The glitter could be overcome but there would no getting past that.
It is so easy to become complacent reminders of how easy it is to fuck up are good. Thanks posting this.
The resemblance was close enough for me to escape a major clusterfuck.
I have always voted for having an extra pair of matching clothes hid in the trunk of my work car.
Don't know how many times I changed and washed them when the lady of the house wasn't around. I used to travel on short notice for business, and that was my cover should the clothes or shaving bag was discovered.
BTW...I rarely went to clubs closer than a hour away.
Did I get that about right, Alucard?
So now he tries to rationalize that his outcome is okay anyway since paying strippers for sex is no different, fundamentally than being married. In the latter, the man mainly provides the money and the woman, in return, offers up the sex. But the man is tied down to sex with one woman so only a fool would not make the non-choice alutard made.
alutard's non-choice also offers him the opportunity to preach about how morally virtuous he is because he never cheated and "non" chose a life of complete singlehood. (Since he has even gone to the extreme of calling paying strippers for sex/companionship "dating" he will deny he has never dated, but you just have to be onto his games, rationalizations, denials and other mental gymnastics.)
One very bad indicator not mentioned is cigarette smoke. Around here, all bars have gone smokeless. Strip clubs, as "private" establishments are allowed to have their own rules, so most opt for smoking. So if I go out and come back with a smell of alcohol I can pass it off as the local bar. But if I come back smelling like smoke, the clear indication is a strip club. And you are usually covered in it, because it is one of the very few places to light up and of course they all do. So you smell like an ashtray from across the room. That has seriously curtailed my clubbing habits. Even a change of clothes and washing up at the truck stop doesn't quite get rid of the smell.