Sunday, September 4, 2011

don't dutch me.

well. i got dumped. again. by the same person. and would you believe me when i tell you that i totally didn't see it coming? what a dummy!

the day after i got dumped, my friend came to visit and she flopped down on my bed, on my sweetie's side. she put her head down on his pillow. it happened in slow motion, like "noooooo," but also too quick to stop. so now his pillow smells like hippy hair oil, instead of like him. it's terrible.

then, of course, i worked a million days in a row. nobody will ever have the courtesy to dump me on my day off, when i don't actually have to go get naked in front of strangers all night. each day something fucked up happened, and i don't even want to think about it right now but i will share one of the more annoying examples. an indian guy came in and wanted a lapdance. as soon as i got him back in the lapdance nook, he started rubbing me all over. i moved his hands off of me. "can i dutch you?" he said, only he asked it three times really fast: "canidutchyoucanidutchyoucanidutchyou?"

"can you dutch me? oh, TOUCH me. no."


"no. " (i actually do allow a fair amount of touching in my lapdances, but this guy was being a creep so i didn't want his hands on me at all.)


PLEASE. NO. x 10.
and just when i was feeling sorry for him since he obviously has a verbal tic, he reached around my leg and jammed two fingers UP MY PUSSY. knuckle and all. it felt all gross and rapey.

"FUCK OFF! your dance is over. give me $40!"

"but you said a dance is only 20."


he did. charging an extra 20 really didn't help me feel any better. i just felt really grossed out and angry. and then of course there was the weird self-blame/shame spiral, like why do i have the kind of job where getting sexually assaulted is an occupational hazard that's just gonna keep on happening over and over and over? but eventually i just drank some champagne and kept working. i mean, what else was i going to do?

i'm still a little mad about it, though. and i feel like the universe should be watching out for me a little better while i'm all tender and broken-hearted.


  1. Ugh...I'm sorry. You know I've been there. So fucked up.

  2. I hope you feel better. I enjoy reading your blog. I have a job where I have weirdly personal encounters with people, and it is nice to read your blog and think about how everyone is oddly similar. I hope that didn't sound creepy. I meant it in a "one totally anonymous stranger hopes another feels better" kind of way. Thank you for writing.