Thursday, January 28, 2010

blazers game

remember how the other day i said i met that sports writer who was gonna give me blazers tickets? well, i should have known that people are never as generous as they seem. at least not without any strings attached.

so. i had the guy's business card so yesterday i called him to see if he was really going to give me the tickets. he said sure, but could i meet him at his hotel before to take some naked pictures of him. he'd been dared (he didn't say by who)(by whom?)(anyway he didn't say) to have someone take naked pictures of him while he was here for his business trip. i said i would have my brother with me, so i didn't think it was a good idea. he was like, "well can you come over now, then?"

i told him i was busy hanging out with my boyfriend. i was actually hanging out with my ex-girlfriend and going to get cheap shoes at the nike employee store (my aunt works there) and then going to my aunt's to watch american idol. which was really fun, by the way. my grandma was there and a bunch of my cousins. the littlest one kept showing off his new moonwalking technique. it was surprisingly good, but he kept adding this little hand flourish that removed any tiny shadow of doubt i had about his being a Tiny Gay. right at the moment i was thinking that, my ex-girlfriend leaned over and whispered "gay." i miss that about dating her--the way we often think the same things at the same time.

anyway i told the guy i was busy, but he was like, "well can u come over later 2night?"

i said no and asked whether i could still count on the tickets.

he was like, "yeah! of course!"

so then this morning he texted me, "what are u doing?"

i was like, "hanging out w/my boyfriend. running tons of errands."

"want 2 have lunch?"

"i can't. sorry."

"so i'm not going to see u at all? i really thought u were gonna take those pics for me."

"hmm. i don't know why u'd think that. i can't. did u leave the tickets 4 me @ will call?"

"i hope it isn't because u don't trust me."

i just felt like, "FUCK YOU, i don't KNOW you, and i don't CARE." but instead i texted, "no. i'm just really busy 2day."

"2 b honest, i'm really disappointed. can't u come over after the game? just drop your brother off n meet me @ my hotel?"

"i can't. if you're not leaving the tickets, just tell me now b4 i go pick up my bro from school."

"i'm gonna hook u up."

"okay great. thanks."

"do i at least get 2 flash you?"

"ok," i texted, "but you'll also be flashing thousands of blazers fans."

"cool. i'm at the radisson. can u come at 3?"

"i thought you meant @ the game. NO i can't meet u. ur not listening! just forget it."

"i called in the tickets."

"cool, thanks."

then i wasn't totally sure whether he had or not but i figured i'd just go and see when the game started. i didn't want to get my brother excited and then probably disappoint him, and also i didn't want to bring a kid to a game where there was some creep on the lookout for me. so i took my ex-girlfriend instead.

we had sushi and then went to the game. the tickets were there and our seats were rad! the guy kept texting me before the game started but i turned my phone off. at halftime he came looking for me, but somehow didn't see me. he looked so vulnerable walking up and down the stairs, scanning the rows with his notebook tucked under his arm and a pen behind his ear, that at one point, when he was about 5 feet from me, i almost called out to him. but instead i just hoped he didn't see me. which he didn't. he looked a little defeated when halftime ended and he had to give up the search. i felt bad, but not THAT bad.

after the game i turned my phone on and there were a few texts from him. i knew he felt like he had been taken for a ride, but really i don't take advantage of people. he had offered me the tickets and only later had asked for something in return. i have to remind myself that it's not my fault or my problem when people are lonely and want attention that i don't want to give.

the game was so fun, by the way! we lost. but only by 11 points (utah 106, blazers 95). it was a bummer that the blazers never lead, though, not even once during the whole game.

then we went to my house, lit a fire and played cards. i had a feeling it would be the last time we'd hang out for a while and that felt sad. but i was just trying to exist in the moment.


Tuesday, January 26, 2010

oh-ho-ho the nightshift

i was dubious about working a nightshift at my new club since the days have been going so well for me there. i was worried that i wouldn't be able to stay awake. and i was worried that i wouldn't be able to sell very many dances because people go out in groups at night, whereas during the day there are lots of lonesome guys out by themselves who are just ripe for the picking. also there are three girls working at night instead of two, but there's only one lapdance nook so i worried that i wouldn't get to use it very much.

well. i drank a cup of coffee before work and then i DID totally stay awake. and the girls i was working with didn't really hustle very much for dances, so i got to use the nook whenever i needed it, which was plenty. all in all, tonight was pretty great and after i tipped out and took a cab home i made $325.

the best thing that happened tonight was i met a guy who is a sports writer for the NBA. he asked me whether i was a blazers fan, i said "YES!" and he said he'd get me tickets for wednesday's game against utah. i felt like, "yeah right," but then he gave me his business card and told me to call him tomorrow for the tickets. i told him i was going to take my 12 year-old brother, so not to fuck around with me because he'd be breaking a little kid's heart. he insisted that it was a done deal. he seemed really sincere. i'll let you know what happens with that. i was in a great mood after that, by the way.

i was feeling super bloated and chubby today before work. i tried not to eat a lot today so maybe my stomach would stop sticking out, but the fact of the matter is that i get hungry. all day long, i just keep getting hungry and i'm not able to NOT EAT like i used to. i barely used to eat anything and i was so soooo skinny (like 99lbs) but the older i get, the more i feel like life is too short to be hungry and lethargic. anyway the point here is that even though i felt like a moose, nobody else seemed to notice. in fact, i had one guy who bought four dances, and he kept saying how pretty my hair was and how much he loved my miniature potbelly. i rubbed my little belly all over him and he could not get enough of it! at the end of each song, he'd stuff another twenty in my g-string and go, "one more, okay?" then eventually i had to get back onstage, otherwise who knows--maybe he would've wanted my belly on him all night.

there was a really good-looking couple who came in. they sat a row back from the tip rail and every so often the lady would come and drop off some dollars for me. they were really really into me and after a while the guy bought a dance for the lady. i told the guy he could come watch if he wanted, but the lady wanted it to be just her and me so i took her back to the little nook. i'll tell you what: this lady was way grabbier than any guy i've danced for (well except for a few, like the UPS driver who put his thumb in my ass and wouldn't take it out till i screamed my head off for the bouncer). she kept trying to slip her fingers into my panties, and kiss me on the mouth. she was a super pretty lady, but not at all my type and she was so drunk she could barely stand up. plus, she was making orgasmic noises straight out of a porno and it was suuuper turning me off. so. i just tried to get through the dance without incidence. it was hard, though, and annoying. at the end she begged me (literally) for just one lick of my pussy. i barely let my GIRLFRIENDS go down on me, no fucking way was i gonna let some porny stranger. it was awkward, though--she was overly bummed out.

i had a really good night with my hair and makeup, if i do say so. i had a little gaggle of vacationing texans who kept telling me i was the hottest girl next door ever. they were great tippers and good for ye olde self esteem, as well.

now i'm home. so tired, i hope i can sleep well. i've been waking up too early and then not being able to get back to sleep. wish me luck on that one. xo andi.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

money, honey

i picked up a shift yesterday and then worked again today. i'm totally beat, but i've made a lot of money. yesterday it started out slow and then got super busy for a bit. the other girl who was working didn't ask anybody for a lapdance all day, so i kind of had the place to myself in that regard. there were never more than two or three customers at a time all day long, but i still left with a little over $300.

today i worked with this girl who was incredibly wacky. first of all, she was wearing a wig. and glasses. and she had a vintage apron on, and a bunch of old-timey kitchen implements that she was using as props. it was totally bizarre and not at all sexy. but she made friends with this lonesome drunk who ended up staying all day long. he had just returned from a trip to san francisco, he got off the plane at 11am and headed directly to the strip club. i think he wasn't ready for his vacation to be over.
he was the only customer for almost the whole day, but he was tipping us each like $5 per song, which does add up.

about halfway through the day, the guy disappeared for a bit and then returned with two young gutterpunk homeless girls. they were girlfriends. the guy had a tab and they all got waaaaasted together with my co-worker. the girls were having a really good time. one of them said (while munching fries on the guy's tab), "this is the best day we've had in a really long time," and i thought that was sweet. i could see the day becoming a story in their shared history. "the time it was raining and we were down out and that dude got us wasted and bought us lapdances. he had a tab--we could order whatever we wanted!"

a tall, good-looking romanian guy came in. he was reserved, but i got him to sit at the tip rail. i said, "how are you?" he said, "i have some money to waste today." i told him i could help him with that and led him to the table-dancing nook. it's in the corner behind the poker machines and has a regular curtain and a hanging bead curtain, so people can't see you. you're not supposed to have any contact with the clients, but i think that's totally insane. i don't even know what the point would be. so i just do the dances the way i've always done them: somewhat nasty.

the romanian guy bought two dances, and when they were through he said they were the best lapdances he's ever had and he gave me a $100 tip!!!

another random guy came in and i gave him some dances. by the end of the day my dogs were BARKING and i was ready to get the hell out of there with my $350. woot woot.

Saturday, January 16, 2010


well i'm back up north now. i worked today at my new club. it was slow at first, but then it really picked up. this lonesome coked out frat boy came in and kept trying to "make it rain" with dollars, but he couldn't get it right so he kept trying. that was funny and lucrative. i knew i could've probably sold him a million lapdances but his energy, though entertaining, was also a bit creepy and i didn't want to touch him. so i just let him keep tossing down those ones.

a short chubby businessman came in and i put him in a trance. he bought four lapdances and i think he ended up cumming in his pants. he smelled strongly of pizza which might sound gross, but wasn't altogether unpleasant.

another guy came in with a overflowing shopping bag from diesel. clearly money to burn: my kind of customer!

my twin sister used to work at a restaurant down the block, and the cooks from there came in today. they tipped me a lot for being her sister. they kept saying how trippy it was that we look exactly the same. i texted my sister, "cooks from sushi are here. tipping wildly, they miss you." she texted back, "they always fantasized about seeing me naked, now they have a close approximation. haha."

i ended up leaving with $275 after tipping out. not bad for an early afternoon shift at a small town strip club. i'm working again tomorrow and the next day. gonna finally get these teeth fixed!

Wednesday, January 13, 2010


i've been sleeping on the floor at sky's with just the thinnest floor mat, and my back and my whole body feel great when i wake up. i think it's partly because the only comfy position for me on the floor is flat on my back, so it's like i'm spending the whole night in yoga corpse pose.

anyway. hi. you know that client i have who is super tall with borderline-scary tattoos? the one who looks and sounds just like a racially ambiguous version of ray's brother on everybody loves raymond? (this reference is probably lost on you, i think i'm one of the only people on the planet who likes that show). anyway, the brother's name on the show is robbie. so i'm going to call my client robbie here.

robbie called me yesterday and wanted to see me for two hours. i was like, what on earth am i gonna do with him for that long? if it was almost anybody else i would've tried to talk him into a shorter session even though i could totally use the money, but this guy's really nice and easy, so i figured oh alright.

the funny thing about time, is that even when you're thinking it's never gonna go by: it does. while you're busy thinking, "OMG it's NEVER gonna be six o'clock," seconds are ticking right past. robbie brought a nice bottle of pinot noir. he poured us each a glass and sipped some with obvious relish. he has this chilled-out openness about him that seems almost child-like. he told me how he never was a wine drinker, but his little brother made him try pinot last year and now he loves it. he's told me other things before that have made me sense that something happened with him that changed the way he does things. like there was a before, and now it's after.

sometimes when people are mysterious, i can't help but create a backstory for them. i'm sure if anybody ever heard theirs, they'd be shocked at how far off i was, and they'd find me annoying and presumptuous for even beginning to think i had them pegged. that said, robbie's backstory is that he sustained a head injury and got to start his life over. that's the only way i can explain the incongruity between his scary tattoos and the person he seems to be today. and also it would explain his slow, deliberate speech and his happy simple statements ("that was nice," he always says). the head injury was someone else's fault and as a result, he was awarded a large sum of money in damages. that's how come he can present me with crisp hundred-dollar bills like it's nothing, even though he works as a veterinary tech at an animal hospital.

so. the two hours seemed intense at first, but they ticked by slow and steady. when he was leaving, i said, "so what are you going to do tonight?"

he said he was going to drive out to the BevMo in the suburbs to get a case of grape soda. there's this old-timey grape soda that he likes, he bought one one day for no reason and when he drank it, it was exactly like the grape soda of his youth. the corner store by his house has it, but only once in a while, so he looked online and found out where he could stock up on it. then he went into a lengthy description of the soda, how it only has 75% as much carbonation as regular soda, how the recipe hasn't changed in 55 years. i realized it was the most i'd probably ever heard him talk. besides the time when he told me the action-packed tale of rescuing this little tiny dog as it darted in and out of traffic. he kept the dog, and named him "tiny."

after that i went out on an outcall. a girl i know has seen this guy a lot and gave him a decent reference. the one thing she said to watch out for, though, is that he has a camera that he likes to train onto the fold-out couch, which is where the action takes place. when i got there i looked for a hidden camera. there it was, right in between the books on the bookcase! i said, "hey mind if i turn this off?" he looked surprised and crestfallen but agreed, claiming he thought it already WAS off, blah blah blah.

after that i kind of hated him for trying to film me. but i tried to let it go.

this guy was one of those "actually," guys. just really really contrary. like, even when you're trying to AGREE with them, they feel the need to correct you.

he had some fancy chocolates, having just returned from a "pleasure trip" to france. he let me choose one from the box. i picked out one that looked like a mini ferrero rocher. he said that wasn't very adventurous and gave me a different one to try instead. it was a letter "B" shaped dark chocolate with a ganache filling. i tasted it: amazing on the outside but the ganache was very lemony. "how is it?" he asked.

"it's good. i'm not a huge fan of citrus and chocolate together, though," i said.

"there's no citrus. you're just tasting the overtones of the dark chocolate."

"no. this is really very lemony," i said.

he insisted it wasn't. i rolled off the couch/bed and went to retrieve the chocolate-map that says what each chocolate is in the box. i brought it back and pointed to the "B." "see, it says au citron," i said. it had already been established that i don't speak french. but even i can see that au citron means there's fucking citrus in the chocolate.

he was annoyed to have been mistaken, and i will admit that i felt a little smug, but we pushed those feelings aside and got on with it. he took a loooooong time to come and my arm is still kind of tired, but other than that it was fine. no chemistry, but fine.

after i put my clothes back on i asked if i could have another chocolate of my own choosing. he said sure so i picked out the "sphinx noir." it was a sphinx head, and it was sooo pretty i almost didn't want to bite into it. but when i did, it was THE MOST DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE I HAVE EVER EATEN. EVER. it had a marzipan filling, but instead of being made of almonds, it was HAZELNUTS! sounds almost ordinary, the way i'm describing it now. but i'm telling you: i have never had chocolate that good in my whole life. whoa. amazing.

then i got lost trying to get out of his building, tried unsuccessfully to escape from the parking garage, rode three different elevators, and finally just found his apartment again and retraced my original steps. i walked a million miles in the rain in heels trying to find the train station. i know this city like the back of my hand, but this was a neighborhood that didn't even used to BE a neighborhood.

i finally made it back to sky's and when he opened the door his face broke my heart a little. i wasn't sure why, so i sat on the bed and had a brief moment of confused tears, and when that was done things felt nice.

Monday, January 11, 2010


today i had my little haruki murakami guy. not only does he look like haruki murakami, but he brought me "norwegian wood" as a gift once, so i always associate him with my favorite author. he's really polite and clean, and he only ever wants a half-hour session but pays for an hour.

that was my only client. all day.

when it started to look like i wasn't gonna get any more appointments, i gathered up my things to leave and my co-worker said, "where are you going?"

"to a yoga class," i said.

"oh! you're gonna start working THAT off finally," she said, giving me a playful poke in the gut.

my belly has gotten a bit round, it's true. it's not super fat or anything, i mean i'm still in good shape. but it definitely sticks out in a way i'm not used to, and has been muffin-topping over my pants. i don't like being picked on about my body, though.

"haha," i said, but didn't laugh.

"i'm only kidding," she said, "look at MINE!" she puffed her belly out as big as she could. then i could laugh. she's such a cute little thing.

i went to yoga. it was long. now i'm at sky's. writing this to you. goodnight.

checked out

sky came to visit me for a few days up north and then on saturday we started driving back home. we were with another friend of ours, annie, and we thrift-shopped all the way south. it's a 12 hour drive, but we stopped halfway home and stayed the night with annie's aunt and uncle, a pair of eccentric aging hippies. the aunt is frantic but sweet. the uncle: totally bizarre. it was about midnight when we arrived at their house. they were asleep in bed so we crept in quietly and were enjoying some sleepytime tea when annie's uncle rose from his slumber and marched buck naked through the house to the kitchen, where he hawked several loogies into the sink before returning to his bedroom.

annie was weirded out and embarrassed but seemed to get over it as we all climbed into the great big bed in the aunt & uncle's guest room. sleeping three to a bed sounds like a sweet snuggle fest, but in actuality can be a long night of angles and elbows and snores in your ear. sometime in the night i awoke because i heard a baby crying. it stopped after a while and i went back to sleep.

in the morning, the uncle was up and clothed and making a giant pot of oatmeal. it felt too early to eat and the oatmeal was scorched, but everyone was going along with the idea that the oatmeal was good and that it was time for breakfast. so it just seemed easier to choke down a small bowl of it and get on with my life.

the uncle asked whether we'd heard the baby crying and said that their grandbabies had spent the night. "lulu's just a little snuggle bunny," he said of the older baby, a toddler, and i was grossed out to think of him snuggling naked with a two year-old baby girl. sensitive hippy men take too many liberties. when your baby step-granddaughter is spending the night in your bed, it's time to put on some fucking shorts, dude.

we packed up and visited the local food co-op before leaving town. it's one of my favorites in the whole country, and i've been to food co-ops in at least 30 states, so i can tell you with authority that this one is one of the very best! we loaded up on goodies and got back on the road.

i got a text from a regular when we were almost home so sky dropped me off at work when we pulled into town.

the guy was one i've written about before, an asian bodybuilder who seems kind of grouchy, but isn't. he's just kind of quiet and serious. he's usually polite and very well-groomed which i appreciate.

last night he was suuuper grabby, though, and he wouldn't just relax and let me give him a massage. he had to be touching me the entire time. he paid for a 90 minute session, and even ten minutes in i was thinking, "oh jeez, this is gonna be long."

after a while, he wanted to give me a massage so i put a towel down on the table and layed down on my stomach. he has nice strong hands and the massage felt great at first but then he got on top of me and started caressing my ass roughly, and then rubbing his dick all over me. i was like, "oh you're squishing me, honey, can you hop back down and work on my legs a bit." he didn't hop down right away. he stopped rubbing his dick on me and paused for a long minute. he had me pinned and was breathing heavily onto my back, and i thought, "oh great. this is gonna be the day where i get raped. and what could i even do about it? it's not like i could call the cops." i was forming a plan of vigilante justice when something clicked and the long moment of potential-rape pause ended. he got down off the table and massaged my legs a bit and then kept trying to give me a rim job so i got off the table and said, "wow that was great, thanks," and said i wanted to focus on him again.

after that i felt kind of out of my body, the way i would when i was a kid getting beat up. i'd go a little bit far away and just wait for it to be over, but as the years went by it became harder and harder to get all the way back in. i'd be almost there but not all the way, kind of like when you try to put on gloves that are too tight and you can't squeeze your fingers all the way down into the fingers of the gloves. i'd sometimes throw myself onto the grass or take an ice-cold shower. something that would snap me back so that my fingers would fit back into my fingers and if i touched my face i could feel it.

i finished up with my client and took a shower. as i walked to sky's, i decided i didn't want to see that guy again so i put a "no" in front of his name in my phone.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

1. janice talks shit & 2. new job.

1. last week i talked to the lady i was going to work with, the one who looks and talks like tony's sister, janice, on the sopranos. i named her lisbet in this blog but i should've just called her janice. i asked her about coming to work for her and she said it was fine. and then she said, "i'm sorry if i sound funny right now."

funny. funny? "what do you mean?" i asked.

"you know! funny."

"oh. okay," i said. "well, you don't sound funny at all. don't worry about it."

"whew. okay. it's just that i just got back from my first colonic! it was intense!"

"i LOVE colon hydrotherapy," i said.

"what? what's that?"


"oh! haha. you've had a colonic? well tell me this, did your stomach hurt really bad afterward?"

"is it your stomach that hurts, or is it your rectum and your intestines?"

"oh. i guess it's more like my intestines."

i told her she should go get some probiotics because she was probably just too cleaned out. then she went into lengthy descriptions of how everything felt and smelt. "like death!" she said.

"yeah, some of that shit is really putrid because it's been lurking for a loooong time."

after we had been talking about this all for about five minutes, it seemed to dawn on her that she had been talking about SHIT with a practical stranger for far too long. she got off the phone abrubtly. i was glad. i love talking about shit, but i had shit to do.

i keep meaning to go and work at this lady's spot, but something about not being connected to all the other massage girls in this town kind of freaks me out. i like having access to lists of bad guys and being able to ask people about guys who sound potentially weird. and also i've been enjoying not touching penises for a bit. i don't, however, enjoy being broke!

2. in the meantime, i've gotten a job at a strip club called ----'s. it's so cute in there, really tiny. the owner is a lady. she reminds me a little of jennifer cooleridge--you know, elle's hairdresser friend in "legally blonde." she talks really slow like that and seems kind of floaty.

i worked on monday. it was really slow all day but i did end up leaving with $175, which is pretty good for a slow dayshift in a tiny strip club up here. i like dancing in this state because the customers don't touch you. they know they aren't supposed to. and you don't really have to give that many lap dances (called "table dances" here) because people tip you while you're on stage. in fact, some of the clubs don't even offer table dances. i did sell a few dances, though. maybe five or six.

----'s is next door to a mexican restaurant and they share the basement, which means that the "dressing room" is also the restaurant's "stock room." so whenever you're sitting in your g-string putting on makeup there will be cooks and busboys traipsing around. they don't stare very much, though. that's nice.

after work i went out to dinner with my girlfriend who i keep breaking up with. it felt sad. but it always does. it's terrible to be in love with someone who drives me so totally nuts.