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Dating Strippers, a Cautionary Tale

Kaffeesatz

Illinois

For years I have always thought, wow, I would love to bang a stripper. Probably for several reasons: The allure, the degree of difficulty, the bragging rights, etc.

I met a woman in a bar while traveling a thousand miles from home. We went back to my hotel room and had sex. Great sex. Amazing sex for the first time together.

She asked when we would see each other again... uh, never? I thought to myself...

It turns out I was planning travel to a city where she used to live, and she decided to fly there to meet me. So I worked during the day, and we fucked at night. She was amazing. Blonde. Big natural tits. Fucked like a porn star. It was on this trip that I learned she was a former stripper.

No big deal, I thought. She's a little wacky. But not completely crazy. Or so I thought.

After a few more weekends together, including a failed threesome attempt, I finally called it off.

And then it started. Messages to Facebook friends. Calls and texts at all hours. A threatened suicide (her, not me). Constant obsessive contact that I mostly just ignored.

One night, I was on a date with another woman when the barrage of calls and texts started. I turned my phone off.

We went to bed and fucked for a few hours and passed out, only to be awoken at 2AM by a knocking on my door.

Groggily, I threw on some pants and opened the door to find.... you probably guessed it. In fact, you probably yelled 'don't open the door! You fool!' as you were reading this. But I opened it. And there she was, the blonde ex-stripper on my porch. She had flown 1,000 miles to 'visit'. Which, by the way, she had mentioned in a few of the hundreds of voicemails and text messages. But I wasn't reading them...

She attacked me. She attacked the naked blonde in my bed, who promptly gathered her shoes, her phone and her sundress and exited Stage Left. I called the cops, who showed up with guns drawn and tossed me in hand cuffs. She screamed that I was trying to rape and murder her as the cops arrived.

So there I am, shirtless, in handcuffs, and sweating from 15 minutes of wrestling with crazy stripper bitch. I had a flashback to all those episodes of the TV show Cops where the perp is shirtless and I was watching and thinking 'what bad decisions have you made in your life that you are shirtless while being arrested on Television'. And yet, here I am. Shirtless. In cuffs.

After getting it all sorted out, she got felony Home Invasion charges plead down to 2 years probation and a restraining order. I got a really awesome story and... well, I was damn lucky no one got all stabby.

So gents, look at them. Tip them. Touch them.

But whatever you do, for god's sake, don't date them.