Running into an old favorite and then running away
alkdesmo
California
I was traveling for work recently and happened to stop into a random club to finish out the night. As I sat down and started to scope out the talent, who should I spot up on stage but my old favorite. Needless to say, I was stunned to see her working as I hadn't seen her in over 2 years after she left the old club where we met. I had never gotten her info to connect with her, and I always figured she had just left the life and moved on.
After her stage show, she was circulating on the floor and immediately bolted over to join me as soon as she spotted me in the crowd. When I saw her up close, it was jarring to see what had happened to her in the past 2 years. Originally, she was everything you wanted in dancer. She resembled Megan Fox and had a tight, fit, natural body with a great face and also gave great dances, easily an 8-9. After we had gotten to know each other, the mileage went way up but not the cost, which was even better. Seeing her now though, it looked like she had aged 2 decades instead of just 2 years. She had put on at least 30 pounds (and in all the wrong places) and had modified her body in every way possible with tattoos all over her arms/chest/face as well as those crazy metal dermal implants, which made her look like something out of Mad Max. Plus, something was completely off with her face, like a plastic surgery gone bad.
We chatted briefly to catch up and it turns out that she had gotten kicked out of the club where we first met and had moved on to various other clubs for work. This probably shouldn't have been too surprising given that she fit the typical stripper stereotype in most every respect - no real education but made tons of money stripping and then spent it all on alcohol, drugs, and tattoos without saving a penny - and I'm guessing the lifestyle finally caught up with her. Plus, she used to get super drunk at work and would fight with the other dancers, which is why she probably got booted in the first place.
After a few minutes, she reached down and started stroking Mr. Happy and whispered that she really wanted to get "re-acquainted". If this had been 2 years ago, I would have already been in the back blowing both my wallet and my wad, but I was super hesitant given that she now looked like a candidate for those anti-meth ads and the fact that she was definitely drugged out already and seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen. Plus, when she casually mentioned that I should go to the ATM and pull out enough for big VIP and a large tip, I knew that this scenario wasn't going to end well and would probably end with me leaving poorer and unsatisfied.
Anyway, I told her that I needed to hit the bathroom before we did anything (actually true). As I went in, I looked back, and she was just stumbling around staring off into space with a glazed look in her eyes. The alarm bells in my head started getting much, much louder, and I decided to make a quick exit when she turned her back and started talking with another dancer. I hopped into my car and headed back to the hotel without looking back. If nothing else, I figured out what finally became of my old favorite and the answer is nothing good.
After her stage show, she was circulating on the floor and immediately bolted over to join me as soon as she spotted me in the crowd. When I saw her up close, it was jarring to see what had happened to her in the past 2 years. Originally, she was everything you wanted in dancer. She resembled Megan Fox and had a tight, fit, natural body with a great face and also gave great dances, easily an 8-9. After we had gotten to know each other, the mileage went way up but not the cost, which was even better. Seeing her now though, it looked like she had aged 2 decades instead of just 2 years. She had put on at least 30 pounds (and in all the wrong places) and had modified her body in every way possible with tattoos all over her arms/chest/face as well as those crazy metal dermal implants, which made her look like something out of Mad Max. Plus, something was completely off with her face, like a plastic surgery gone bad.
We chatted briefly to catch up and it turns out that she had gotten kicked out of the club where we first met and had moved on to various other clubs for work. This probably shouldn't have been too surprising given that she fit the typical stripper stereotype in most every respect - no real education but made tons of money stripping and then spent it all on alcohol, drugs, and tattoos without saving a penny - and I'm guessing the lifestyle finally caught up with her. Plus, she used to get super drunk at work and would fight with the other dancers, which is why she probably got booted in the first place.
After a few minutes, she reached down and started stroking Mr. Happy and whispered that she really wanted to get "re-acquainted". If this had been 2 years ago, I would have already been in the back blowing both my wallet and my wad, but I was super hesitant given that she now looked like a candidate for those anti-meth ads and the fact that she was definitely drugged out already and seemed like a train wreck waiting to happen. Plus, when she casually mentioned that I should go to the ATM and pull out enough for big VIP and a large tip, I knew that this scenario wasn't going to end well and would probably end with me leaving poorer and unsatisfied.
Anyway, I told her that I needed to hit the bathroom before we did anything (actually true). As I went in, I looked back, and she was just stumbling around staring off into space with a glazed look in her eyes. The alarm bells in my head started getting much, much louder, and I decided to make a quick exit when she turned her back and started talking with another dancer. I hopped into my car and headed back to the hotel without looking back. If nothing else, I figured out what finally became of my old favorite and the answer is nothing good.
22 comments
Anyway, I'm a firm believer that this is strictly a transactional hobby. Yeah, I could have told her that she had gone from a 9 to a 5, but I didn't see what good it would get me and I left.
no reason to stay and she doesn't take no very well, yeah, just leave then.
I wonder if I'm a lot more confrontational than several people. then again if I had no interest in staying, I'd leave too. I probably would have said no thanks and then walked out.
I probably would have done the same thing.
Unless I was really wanting to stay and get dances from some other girl at the club.
Then I would have just told her that I'm not interested in dances tonight, or not right now.
Brilliant!
"Not right now", "maybe later", "I'm waiting for someone" (when you aren't), and all those types of out offs are telling her "maybe" when what you really mean is "no", possibly even "no, not ever, in your wildest dreams."
It happens so often, I've acquired the knack of saying a polite, "Hi, nice to see you again" but in a slightly patronizing tone and with body language that also tells her that I've moved on, so here's your quick hug, but don't even bother trying for more. As far as I know, though, I've yet to put it to the test on a hardcore meth-head.