It's always something. Every time I go to the club or have a date with one of them. In just the past month I have seen or heard about (and a few times been involved with) all of the following:
Assaulted by a fellow dancer Cell phone lost Cell phone found but battery dead Cell phone stolen Money stolen Assault by roommate over money stolen Cops come to apt for a visit Pulled over by cops returning from drug buy Too fucked up to function Makes tons of money, but never has money No calendar, no deadlines New drug New boyfriend Horrible abuse from customers Physical illness caused by stress New drug dealer problems Old drug dealer problems New hate list New girlfriend Roommate arrested Boyfriend arrested Drug rehab Divorce (there's not mine) Lost child custody Baby daddy disappeared
Over and over and over again. Every few days I enter this bizarre world. It's sex filled, but amazingly dysfunctional. Then I go back to the real world of jobs, punctuality, sobriety, etc. only to turn around and do it all over again. I can live there temporarily for the sex. But how do they do it every day?
Going to see a stripper is like a box a chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. It all looks good. And sometimes it's delicious. Other times you spit it out. But I always keep goin back for more.


Ha, deja fucking vu! The other way to think about it: if their choices didn't inevitably lead them to living this kind of life every day, would they be strippers at all?