Hot and cold

This was my second time at Hi-Liter and my first midday trip. It's a lot less crowded on a weekday (shocker), which meant a lot of things. Patrons were getting more attention, great. Two of the dancers looked like they'd taken a one-needle trip to space - one a young thing, rail thin who just stood on stage and wiggled a little, and the other a leather bag in heels that grimaced the whole time. While the pole was a disaster, the floor more than made up for it. There was Hi Liters usual mix of 7-Ups of every flavor. I took a table trip with a curvy ebony gal who seemed like she would be fun in a private dance- I was wrong. I asked ahead of time what the private section meant and what it cost - "it's $25/song and you can get a little more handsy." Cool, just like every other private dance. I was dead fucking wrong. We get back there, I go to at least get a handful of tit and she says "no, touching my tits will cost you $35." That's the first dance I ever aborted ten seconds in (I have no tolerance for GPS), and she wasn't even surprised. I tipped her for her time and sat down at a table near the back. Immediately, a bubbly and gorgeous woman named Kayla walked over and, seeing that I had just left the private booths, asked if I left happy. When I told her what happened, she said "that's bullshit, come with me and I'll show you what a $25 dance is like." With Kayla, you'll feel like a King.