Wednesday, April 7, 2010

this ain't my first time at the rodeo, cowgirl

i'm home from a rather long day. let me begin by telling you that i went away last weekend to palm springs, a trip from which i am still recovering. i won't bore you with all the lurid details but i'll tell you that a character from this blog made an appearance. it was a girl i wrote about having met in nyc last summer, the one who looks like rachel maddow, who told me i was trouble and then persisted in jamming her hand up my skirt on repeat. annnnnyway, i had kind of forgotten how annoying she turned out so when she spotted me in the hotel bar, where i sat alone with my cocktail, and invited me out dancing with her, i agreed. it ended up being a super fun night, if a bit drug-fueled. she still has that same girlfriend from last summer and i'm happy to report i'm no home-wrecker. so. there wasn't any hanky-panky, but there was a lot of cocaine. such a gross drug.

the next night was also excessively druggy. i met these hot girls and ended up taking ecstacy with them. it was rad but then they wanted to have an orgy. i felt a twinge of obligation after having taken their drugs, but ultimately my aversion to group sex won out and i sweet-talked my way out of the orgy and back to my hotel room as the sun was coming up.

the point being that i was a total shit-head to my body this weekend and now i'm paying for it. besides the drugs, i also consumed wild amounts of booze and sugar. since i've returned, i've had a stomach-ache that just WILL NOT go away. i've had a few hours of respite, but for the most part: ouch. plus my serotonin is 100% fucked so i feel blue. DUMMY! DON'T DO IT.

i woke up this morning, had a wild bathroom experience that is beginning to feel almost normal. was then grouchy and exhausted, and napped and read till work.

when i got to the club there was only one customer. great. things were slow going for the first few hours. i did some dances for a guy named pete from fargo. he was nice.

also i danced for a guy named lauren from kansas city. i didn't ask WHICH kansas city, i knew he'd say "guess" and that i'd guess wrong. he had a tan and short blonde hair that was parted strictly down the middle. he had on tight, high-waisted levi's and a crisp vaurnet t-shirt (tucked in). he looked like an aging teenager from fast times at ridgemont high. the kind of person who finds a look that works for them early on in life, and then just keeps it forever. a walking time capsule. i asked his name and he said, "lauren." i'd never met a BOY named lauren, and i opened my mouth to say so but realized that was possibly rude and/or boner-killing so instead i just said, "that's a great name. very uncommon." he said, "i'm not common." i wasn't sure what he meant by that and was too lazy to find out.

when i sat him down in the little dance nook, he immediately threw his hands up against the wall behind him, making a giant, strained V. perhaps this is the customary pose in kansas city. i took his arms down off the wall and placed them on his knees. i said, "isn't that more comfortable?" he looked suspicious and said, "okay, but i better not have some bouncer come in here and shake me down for an extra 80 bux, okay?" i said, "why on earth would that happen?" (i didn't have the heart to tell him that we don't even HAVE a bouncer.) he guffawed in a way that implied i knew EXACTLY what he was talking about. he goes, "this ain't my first time at the rodeo, okay cowgirl?" it was hard for me not to laugh, but my gut told me to stifle my giggles so i did, but it was NOT EASY.

oh! the best part about lauren is that he was on vacation for his 40th birthday, and on friday he will realize his lifelong dream of snow-skiing and water-skiing on the same day! he's got it all lined up.

after that lauren came to sit at the rack whenever i was dancing and he was an enthusiastic customer and a good tipper, too. you might think these things go hand-in-hand, but let me assure you that they do not. the most entertained, enthusiastic, gushy customers are often the worst tippers, as though they think their praise and adoration is tip enough. also guys who feel like they have some sort of deep connection to you hate to sully things with money. pish posh. oddly, the most disaffected, zoned-out customers will often tip you very well.

case in point, my next dance. a guy named rob. i hate that name, just sayin. rob seemed disinterested, but was nonetheless tipping me well on stage. so when i finished a set i asked him whether he was ready for some private time with me. he mumbled, "i guess. oh why not," and i led him to the nook. he paid for the dance and then just sat there, staring straight ahead the whole time. he didn't look at my tits, or even my pussy when it was right in his face. it was like he was suffering through it. so strange. at the end of it i said, "there. now that wasn't so bad, was it?" and he said, "well it wasn't so good, either," and high-tailed it out of there like his ass was on fire. it was strange. and insulting.

i think i've mentioned how i hate it when guys sit down to eat a burrito at the tip rack. how it turns my stomach and fills me with ugly thoughts? well anyway there was this really good-looking guy who came in. he had cute little harry potter eyeglasses on and was well put together in his short burberry trenchcoat and hermes ascot. i was having fun dancing for him, and then here comes the waitress with a giant burrito platter. bummer. even the cute ones. but then, to my surprise, he rose from his chair and said, "i'll be back, i'm just gonna go eat this in the corner. i can't eat it here at the rack, how uncivilized." my mind was blown for a second. i felt like wait a minute did you just say that on your own, or did i somehow project those words out from your mouth?

oh jeez i'm so tired right now. i could ramble on and on but i'm falling asleep at the keys.