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Getting burned even when you know better

Papi_Chulo

Miami, FL (or the nearest big-booty club)

From a recent review from TUSCLer PhantomGeek whom doesn’t seem to post much these days on the discussion board:


“… Here I am, sitting on an old folding chair, fidgeting, nervous, first time at one of these meetings. I'm not alone. There are a bunch of other guys here, too, some look like they just walked in off the street, a couple just off Wall Street, most though are just average joes, like me. A couple of them must be new here, too, 'cause they're looking around, like they're wondering what to do and when this meeting's gonna start or maybe -- most likely -- if they should just bolt, maybe hit the nearest ATM and even closer club.

Great. It's my turn. I walk up to the podium. Hands are sweating, a twitch starts up in my left eye, the mouth goes dry all of the sudden but not unexpected. Yeah, I frickin' hate public speaking. But we're all expected to, at one time or another.

"Hi. My name's John."

A couple of the guys chorus back, "Hi, John." A few others just mumble.

"I'm here because, well, damn it, I'm a Pathetic Loser -- with a capital 'P' and a capital 'L.'"

One guy calls out, "Amen, John." Another nods solemnly. He knows the score. He's been there, he's done that.

"I went to Dream Girls. First time in about a year. I was sort of hoping on seeing one of my old faves, but considering it's been over three years, I didn't really count on it, not just because it was a week night but, y'know, it's the transient nature of the business. Still, I figured it was worth a shot.

"It was just before 2 in the morning. The door guy was pretty cool, just waived the cover fee because there was only an hour left, then he waved me on in. Met him on the other side of the door, where he was pulling double-duty as the bartender. My Coke was ten bucks. I tipped him a couple bucks. Hey, he just saved me ten on a cover charge, so why not? Then I turned and saw the club. It was just about barren. From what I could see, there were only five or six dancers and they outnumbered the other pathetic losers two or three to one. I knew I should've turned and run then -- the dancers were gonna be like starving vultures looking to pick the last bit of green off my wallet -- but, stupid me, I grabbed a table.

"I had just taken my jacket off and barely sat down when a dancer parked herself on my lap. She was a pretty little thing, a 7, 7 and a half, with dark hair, dark eyes, a perky nose, and a beautiful, full mouth. Said her name was Destiny. She asked me if I was interested in a dance and I could hardly hear what else she said. Had to get her to repeat it a couple times. Still didn't hear much of what she said. She quoted a couple of prices, five hundred for a half hour, a thousand for an hour. The only words my hearing-impaired and sex-starved libido heard were 'lots of fun,' but I could've sworn I agreed to just a half hour."

"Uh...okay."

"I didn't even have a chance to take a sip of my pop.

"Next thing I know, we're at the bar. I was taking out my plastic, and she was asking me if I like girl-girl shows. Told her they really didn't do anything for me. She asked me if I'd be up for two girls."

"Uh...okay."

"She called out to another dancer in the club, off sitting by herself. Blonde, blue eyes, sort of reminded me of Samantha Bee, but without the nicer figure, and enough eye make-up to make a raccoon laugh hysterically. She'd probably be a 5 and a half on a good day -- a really good day. Her name was Cassie. Next thing I know, Destiny's telling the bartender $2000. WHAT? Yeah, that's what went through my mind -- it just didn't come out of my mouth though. I'd like to say that it was because too much blood was flowing south since Destiny was already rubbing my cock through my jeans, but let's face the facts, I'm just a Pathetic Loser, with a capital 'P' and a capital 'L.'

"We got to one of the bed booths -- 'ghetto beds' like my old fave called them since the mattresses are so thin and the plywood's so uncomfortable -- and Destiny and Cassie are already talking about taking turns watching out and blocking views. Destiny got next to naked -- some damn nice tits and ass on that girl -- and started in on her dance, which wasn't much of a dance, just a little rubbing, a little grinding, and pulling my cock out and jerking it. Next it was Cassie's turn. She pulled out her tits, and I wasn't impressed -- both were pierced and I hate piercings. She asked me if I liked the piercings, but since my mouth was full of her tits -- and the damn metal -- I couldn't answer. She started jerking me off, too.

"Next thing I know, Destiny's cooing and purring, 'You only have a couple songs left. Did you want to go longer? If you do, it'll be another thousand bucks, but we'll get another room (which was actually just another bed booth, just at the end and supposedly more private) and we'll get a lot freakier.' They'll keep the club open a little longer, too, if we do.

"'Seriously? An hour's up already?' Well, that was what I was thinking anyway. My mouth was full of Cassie's tits again, more or less, so, like the Pathetic Loser I am, I said, 'Uh...okay.'

"We got back to the bar and I'm dragging out my plastic again when Cassie told the bartender two thousand. This time I did speak up -- 'Wait! What?' -- yeah, quite the decisive Pathetic Loser. Destiny corrected her -- only a thousand this time; apparently Cassie didn't know better. Course, neither did I.

"We went back to the same bed booth -- apparently another dancer and her pathetic loser were in the 'room' Destiny had suggested, but they only had a couple songs left. Destiny and Cassie did pretty much the same thing, a lot of swapping off, a little jerking off, and not much else, unless you count the small kisses Cassie gave me. Destiny pretty much avoided those.

"We did eventually move to the 'room.' Their idea of freakier was pulling out my cock and doing a dry grinding on it. They either had my underwear over my cock or they kept their panties in place while they rubbed themselves on it. At one point, Cassie asked me if I was having fun, but my mouth was full with her tits -- yeah, again -- so I couldn't give her the honest answer of no, I'm bored silly. Destiny asked me a couple times if I was on a budget, suggested that if I buy more time, the club would stay open while we had more fun. Destiny also suggested that the three of us could get together after work -- apparently they live together and we'd get together at their place -- and we could have even more fun. It would just be an extra couple hundred. End of the night, when what should've been 90 minutes of play was over, and Destiny hit me up for a tip -- hundred, two hundred, whatever would help out. Apparently the club takes a chunk of their money. Considering they just got three grand out of me, she should've been happy with that, but Pathetic Losers like me just don't learn: I handed her another hundred. She said that they'd text me to set things up. Yeah, somewhere during all that, we wound up swapping numbers.

"Well, like you guys already know, they didn't. And when I got back to my place, I took a good look at my receipts, just to beat myself up all the more. The first one was time-stamped 1:57, the second 2:20. Yeah, I paid for a full hour and not even a half hour later, the bitch hit me up for more. And even before that half hour was up, she wanted more!

"Y'know, thinking about it now, I've met Destiny before. She was all about the upsell then, too. Lucky for me then, though, my credit card company said, 'No More. You've been a damn bad PL, John.'

"And that's about the sum of it. Y'know, guys, I've had some shit luck the last two, three times I've been to Dream Girls, getting hit by Rip-Off Bitches like that, getting promised the moon and just getting moldy green cheese. And I broke a couple of the cardinal rules of being a strip-club monger: I used plastic and I didn't say no. Y'know, from here on out, as long as Dream Girls is populated by Rip-Off Bitches like Destiny and Cassie and as long as I'm such a weak-willed Pathetic Loser, I'm not going back there. It just isn't worth it.

"Thanks for your time, guys."

"Thanks, and amen, John." …”

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