Regularship Has It's Privileges

What a weekend people, what a weekend. Trolling galore on TUSCL, preseason football on TV, the Dodgers are steamrolling the competition(37-8 since 6/22), and another fine evening at Tropical Lei this past Saturday. Yeah, I know I went on Wednesday but what the hell, it was Saturday at 10:30 pm, I finished up a late dinner with some family from out of town and wasn't ready to call it a night. First things first. The crowd. Not only was it packed like ring-around-the-collar, you had to see the crowd and smell the crowd. Not sure which one was worse. It was National Douchebag Night at Tropical Lei last Saturday. Half the crowd were the Axe body spray, extra-small Affliction t-shirt wearing, excess hair gel, Jersey Shore meathead extras while the other half were the Drakkar Noir smelling, guy-dude-bro, Glendale Galleria kiosk employee, too much cheap jewelry posse. These dudes all had the same black dress shoes, black slacks, and black dress shirt ensemble on. They looked like they either left a funeral in the evening or the Johnny Cash fan club decided to have a meeting at Tropical Lei. Either way, a smooth dressing and slick muthafucka like myself had nothing to worry about. There have been numerous discussions about the both the pros and cons of regularship, but regularship has it's privileges. Especially on a crowded night. As always, I was cool with the bouncers and they were cool with me. In fact, while they were giving the rundown to some rookies, they waved me ahead and inside I went. I was able to find a spot near an exit and one of the cutest waitresses made her way over to me. I forgot her name but she recognized me from previous visits and let me know who was working and who was suppose to show up. I let her know who I wanted to see and the wheels were set in motion. A couple minutes passed, the lovely waitress returned with my water, I tipped(tipping the waitress has always helped me out), and she informed me that one of my favorites will be coming to keep me company in a few. Well waddaya know, a few go by and I see a hot brunette in some tiny Daisy Dukes with great tits and long legs cutting a path towards me. I see the pl's in the peanut gallery trying and vying for her attention but to no avail. Like a heat-seeking missile, she's locked on to me, and doesn't let the hands grabbing at her break her stride. Matter of fact, she had to side step, shake n bake, and juke a couple of hard heads that don't understand the meaning of the word NO! Tangent Time-I find it interesting that lots of pl's get upset when a dancer spends time sitting and conversing with her regulars. I know that it keeps many pl's from experiencing a new dancer but that is life. We're all entitled to our opinions on the matter, but in the end, it's the dancer who decides(and money). Back on track with a dime on my lap. It's been a good month and a half since I've last seen this cutie so we spent a good deal of time catching up on one another's exploits and adventures. I know this pissed off these two losers sitting behind us since I could overhear their hate. Seriously, what kind of haters make it a point for me to hear their conversation OVER the already too-loud music pumping through the speakers? Did they think I was gonna hurry up and get a dance just so they could get their turn? Sorry, not gonna happen. I pay a decent portion of this dancers' bills on a monthly basis so she knows what's really going on and it ain't them. Add to that the fact that she could also overhear their bullshit and that didn't bode well for Dumb and Dumber. My brunette bombshell and I spent some time on the frontline, tipping the hard working ladies on stage. When you have a cool dancer with you and the dancer on stage is cool, the good times just get better. Tits, ass, and legs plus clits, nips, and lips equals ecstasy and tips. I was soaking in their sexuality and reveling in the moment. God I love my life! From their it was on to the lap dance arena where she alternated between slow and sensual grinds and fast and furious grinds. This one PL who was seated near us was transfixed. Dude couldn't stop staring but who's to blame him. I wasn't upset. At least he didn't smell like Drakkar. Even though her lappers where magnifique, I wasn't finished nor was I satisfied. Yet. On to the VIP rooms, past the cheap and lowly, non-tipping plebeians who I loathe and detest for wasting precious oxygen with their sad and meaningless existence. Ah yes, VIP. In we step and she closes the curtain. We shed our clothes like rattlesnakes-lots of sidewinding going on. The first song starts and body chemistry and biology go into overdrive. I tell you, that gal must've gotten carpal tunnel from all the repeated hand motions. She was multi-tasking with efficiency. Hands here, lips there, tongue everywhere. Good thing I brought extra dinero cause we were there longer than I expected. I didn't mind at all-it's why I work. She didn't mind either-it's why she works. Definitely an amazing VIP experience that was heightened due to the fact that the couple in the VIP next to us where also going to town. It felt like we had an impromptu competition back there. Don't worry, we won. After a little bit of post-coital lounging, we cleaned up, got dressed, and bid our adieu's to each other. I was planning on staying, but seeing how crowded it was, the fact that I just had an amazing VIP experience, and the ever-present and crushing weight of douchebaggery infiltrating the club, I decided to exit the premises. I didn't need the help of Reuben sandwich this evening. But I did have some chocolate malted crunch ice cream when I got home. And a call from a gal that wants to meet for an OTC. Oh yeah. Times are good.