sex nerd hot wings bodybuilder times

i worked this weekend, but not a lot.

on saturday i did a bachelor party. it was pretty run of the mill. there was a bachelor, and a bunch of his friends. and a lot of sticky money. there was this one really cute guy there, though. it's not often that i think a random guy is hot, but i have been thinking about doing it with a dude so maybe that's why i've been noticing when guys are hot. anyway. the only other things that were interesting about this party is that it took place in the fully loaded basement dungeon of an otherwise totally normal house. it had a medieval theme, stone walls, shields, swords, etc. but then there was actual functional s&m dungeon stuff. it looked just like the medieval room of the dungeon i worked at for a hot minute in new york. (i wasn't a very good domina-in-training. i got squeamish hitting people and torturing their cocks and balls, plus during the part where they get to meet each girl who's working, i was very rarely able to come up with a compelling reason for them to choose me instead of any of the other girls. i did like learning some rope bondage, though. it's so pretty.) someday i will have a house with a sex nerd room, with a swing and all that.

the other thing i thought was interesting actually isn't very interesting now that i'm writing about it, and that is the hot wings buffet. the party was right around dinnertime, but my partner had both neglected to eat beforehand so we were very hungry. when we went to use the bathroom and all the guys were still downstairs in the dungeon, we helped ourselves to some of their hot-wings, and they were THE HOTTEST hot wings i've ever eaten. we were both choking and gagging, they were so stupidly spicy. our eyes were watering so bad we both had mascara running all down our faces. after we stopped freaking out, we had a strangely cathartic giggle fit, which felt nice since i've been so fucking depressed.

then on sunday i saw the bodybuilder massage client i've been seeing lately. he's really really nice. but i have to tell you: it feels weird when you're not getting laid in your regular life, and your only sexual interactions are with clients. i'm still working out my feelings on that, more later.

xo andi

booo hooooo

oh man. today was a long-ass day. i worked the dayshift, which was fine since it was sushi friday. i didn't make very much money, though, and near the end of my shift someone called wanting me to cover her mid-shift. i agreed to do it, since i was already there and i wanted to make more money. as soon as i got off the phone, though, i had this weird wave of intense nausea and dizziness. i went downstairs and got my period in a big way. great.

so then i tried to give the shift back but it was too late so i just worked.

it continued to be slow all day. i will admit that i moped a little bit. my co-workers are sick of my broken-hearted listlessness. i know i need to just pretend to have gotten over it already. i couldn't do it today, but i will on my next shift.

hmm did anyone interesting come in... well, not really. i barely did any dances during the 10 hours i worked. the first few were in the morning for a guy who was nice, but then just stayed all day and into the night, getting drunker and more annoying with each passing hour. he asked me no fewer than 15 times whether i'd be his date tonight to bob log III. i said no. he didn't want to hear that, so he just kept on asking. he was tipping okay so i felt the need to stay polite, but it bugged me.

another guy i danced for was developmentally delayed. i felt kinda bad taking his money, but don't dd people have just as much right as anybody else to spend their money on strippers? it's not like i was swindling him, pushing him down and taking his lunch money on the playground. he was nice, but smelled TERRIBLE like he'd peed his pants earlier. suffice to say it was an "air dance." i didn't want any residual pee on me. he told me he was very sad because the bus from where he lives to downtown is changing its route so he won't be able to come downtown ever again. so sad! when the dance was done, he said, "i gotta go. you made me very horny."

i don't remember who else i danced for. i don't care. i got off work and went next door for tacos. i wasn't even hungry, i just wasn't ready to go home and couldn't think of anywhere else to go or anybody to call. i was so exhausted and lonesome, i just wanted to be around someone who loves me but right now there isn't anyone so i just sat in the taqueria for an hour or so looking at pictures of my ex on my phone until i started to feel totally nuts. then i biked home and even the fresh air on my face didn't make me feel any better.

i need to find a new girlfriend, but i don't want to. i only want the old one. boo hoo.

sushi friday

on friday afternoons my co-worker and i order sushi from across the street. i was sitting at the bar today enjoying "sushi friday" when a customer walked in and announced to me and the bartender, "i'm visiting portland!" it's so funny when people are a totally obvious tourist with their little guidebook and khaki shorts, and yet tell you like you didn't already know. like someone with their bus pass in a lanyard around their neck telling you they don't have a car. or a little kid saying, "i'm a kid!"

he sat down next to me at the bar. "where you visiting from?" i asked with a mouth full of seaweed salad.

"boston."

"cool," chomp chomp chomp. "i've been there."

"i'm visiting my facebook friend," he said.

"oh yeah?"

"it's a weird story. i mean, i want to tell you but i'm worried you'll think i'm a weirdo."

"ha! i already think that," i said. "so you don't have to worry! ...just kidding?"

"ok. well. i met her because she saw me on tv, and wrote to me on facebook."

"oh yeah?" hard to talk a lot while you're eating. easier to ask open-ended questions and just listen, and then when the person's done talking you'll probably be done eating and can suggest they buy a lapdance.

"yeah. well i have this friend, you may have heard of her. the college professor from alabama who shot six colleagues, killing three of them?"

"i did. something about her not getting tenure?"

"something like that. anyway we've been friends for 20 years. i was on CNN talking about her, saying she was a loving amazing person for whom this was totally out of character. well annie, my new facebook friend, saw the story and was really moved that there was someone like me in the world who would stand by my good friend, even after they had committed such an atrocity. she wanted to get to know me."

"whoa. wow." (i wanted to ask, aren't you worried she only wants to be friends with you because she's planning out her own workplace massacre and wants to know she'll have someone who'll visit her in prison?)

"so we began a very deep facebook friendship and a year later, here i am visiting portland for a week!"

[very deep facebook friendship.]

"wow you never met her in person till now, and you're staying with her for a week?"

"oh i'm not staying with her. she's in AA and i'm a heavy drinker. i'm staying at the ___ hotel, down the street. it's really funny. annie hates strip clubs, she was telling me yesterday how there are more strip clubs here than anywhere else in the country, and how terrible it is. she said, 'why, there's even one right down the street from your hotel!' so of course, i had to come check it out."

i was done eating. "wow. that's some story! well, i guess you should really experience the club by getting a few lapdances."

"ok."

a little while later the club was dead again, except for this one guy who was playing the video poker. i saw him getting super stoked, and then cashing out at the bar. he'd won 500 dollars off of just ten. it's kind of hard sometimes to be nice to someone when they've just won a bunch of money and you want some of it, but at the same time act like you're not just being nice because they've just had a windfall. it's a fine line. i didn't get any of that guy's money.

slow slow slow, then a regular came in and saved the day right before i got off work, so that was nice.

and then i ate dinner and went to an art & performance thing that is part of the TBA (time-based art) festival here in portland. i was standing around with a few people, and this guy told a story about the time he and his boyfriend were laying in bed stoned, watching a movie and eating flaming hot cheetos. he got horny and his boyfriend started blowing him but after a little while his dick was ON FIRE. he had to wash his boner in cold water for 20 minutes. pretty sick. then this girl said how one time she masturbated after eating a burrito and didn't realize she had habanero hot sauce on her hands. another lengthy genital rinsing. and the other girl who was standing there told a story of having a bruise around her wrist from fisting someone who was not her girlfriend, and her girlfriend asked her, what's that bruise? and i guess she figured it out and they broke up. so i, being the fourth person standing around in a little crowd of 4, piped up and told them how one time i was at the movies after doing an outcall and i kept getting really strong whiffs of cum all through the movie till i finally realized there was a dried cumwad in my hair, dangling quite near my face. as soon as i said it, i wished i had thought of something else or just stayed quiet, because the wrist bruise girl looked so grossed out, and the other two people were awkwardly silent. oh well.

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."

"please?"

"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?"

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."

"give me 40! NOW! AND THEN GET THE FUCK OUT!"

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.

get a light.

i saw two clients yesterday. the first one was a bodybuilder. it was like rubbing a bunch of smooth large rocks. he had a giant dick: HUGE. kind of a lot of work. but he was nice. the second one seemed REALLY GAY. like, extreeeeeeeeemely gay. i couldn't understand what he was doing there. he was sweet and gentle. when he came, he cried. it felt a touch too intimate. i don't think i'll see him again.

then i biked home and realized i didn't have my bike light. it was dark. scary. i should have left my bike and taken a cab. silly girl. this super butch lady passed me in the bike lane and dished out some tough love: "are you TRYING to DIE?!" she screamed. "because i'll tell ya, CUPCAKE: you don't GLOW in the DARK!" i was like, "i know. thanks. uhh..." and she yelled over her shoulder, "GET A LIGHT!!!"

i will. get a light. or, better yet: A CAR.

haiku for a sexy chiropractor

hugging adjustment

so good. my back: crack crack crack.

stomach: butterflies

free money, and MEAT house.

i'm in NYC for a little bit, hanging out with friends and going to museums (mainly i came to see the alexander mcqueen exhibit at the met before it closes next week). also i'm working a bit.

this morning i woke up super late and put up an ad. i was out for coffee with a friend and i got a lot of calls, but it was all out-calls to faraway places and i just didn't feel like taking the train all day. i'm staying on the lower east side, and i decided if anybody called that wanted me to come over and they were nearby, or a few train stops away, i'd go see them but otherwise i'd just sunbathe on my friend's roof. no sooner had i announced my lazy plan to my friend, than i got a call from a guy who was only two blocks away.

so i took a shower and went over. when i got there, a model-looking guy was pulling up on a vespa. i climbed the stairs of the stoop, and the guy did, too. he said, "are you here for 4c?" i said yes. he looked at me really strangely, then said, "i have to go to the bank." but didn't move. i said okay, i'll wait here. i sat down on his stoop and watched him as he walked back down the stairs very, very slowly. he crossed the street, and then ambled down the sidewalk at a superhumanly slow pace and disappeared around the corner. and i felt like maybe i should just leave, that maybe these were my last moments before something bad happened. there had been something Not Right about this guy. i wondered whether i'd look back on this moment and wish i had listened to my gut and left. i decided to leave, but right when i was bent down to gather up my purse, the guy reappeared.

he said, "can you come in here with me?" and pointed to the door. i still felt like: LEAVE, DUMMY. but my feet followed the guy into his building's landing area. he goes, "i thought you'd be asian. in your pictures, that's how you looked...so...um...can i just give you $100 for coming all the way out here, and then you can go?"

STOKED! free money.

i was happy he didn't know i had only walked two blocks. i said, "sure. thanks."

hahahahahahaha!!!!!! i think this might be what they mean when they talk about "WINNING."

so then i just meandered about for a while. lunched at whole foods. worked out. got a bunch more calls from people who wanted a discount, or wanted me to send a bunch of pics, etc. then a call from a guy who sounded really really nice. he was in park slope, which sounded far until i looked up how to get there and realized it would only take me 17 minutes. so went to see him.

you really never do know what someone's going to look like AT ALL from how they sound on the phone. i mean, you can make guesses and sometimes you're right, but really you just don't know. a good example of this would be my friend libby, whose high pitched voice sounds like a blonde valley girl, but who is actually a chubby brunette bulldagger. another example would be my client today, who sounded kind of small and 80's movie nerdy, but was actually about 6 feet tall and very very large. bigger than my client last week, even.

the guy was super nice. he had his own playlist on his ipod and it was a lot of cheesy starbucks chick music. like natasha beddingfield, sara bareilles, regina spector. and then halfway through the massage, "the language or the kiss" came on by the indigo girls. then some more stuff, natalie merchant, etc. then as i was finishing the massage and he was coming, fucking "both hands" by ani difranco came on. it was rather bizarre. sweet, endearing, and bizarre to jack a guy off at the lilith fair.

his house smelled very meaty, by the way. the olfactory soundtrack: meat. when i was leaving, i really had to know what was up with that and i said, "are you cooking something?"

"wow you have a good nose," he said. "yeah, i'm cooking a pot roast."

i stifled a giggle. i mean, really the smell was VERY intense. you didn't need to have a good nose, it was heavy and savory and hanging in the air so thick you could taste it, and my hair actually still smells like meat.

then i got on the subway and met up with my sweetie and had BOMB-ASS thai food and now we're going to go have a fancy cocktail. more later! xo andi

breathy.

besides dancing and massage, i have another job that keeps me busy sometimes so i've been traveling a bit doing that. i'm down south right now working on that stuff, and today i was off so i decided to work at the massage parlour. i had two clients. the first one was the biggest, largest client i've ever seen. 6'4'' and just, like, GIANT. if i had to guess, i'd say he weighed around 350lbs. he was really nice, but pushy. he insisted that i climb up on the massage table, on top of him. he was fine on the table by himself, they hold up to 400lbs, but when we were both on it, i worried a little that it might break. he offered me an extra $300 to eat my pussy. i said no. he said, "how about just 10 licks of it for $500?" that's a lot of money for ten licks of your pussy, and i may have said yes if his breath hadn't been bad. i'm just not interested in that.

my next client was a repeat client who is really nice, but who always smokes pot halfway through the session and then has a hard time coming. it's like carpal tunnel time, man. he also had bad breath. i must have pms because i'm really feeling sensitive to smells right now! other than that, though, he's an ideal client. clean. polite. good-looking.

then i took a shower and scrubbed my hands with toothpaste so they wouldn't smell like cum. i went and had a sushi feast. super delish!

xo andi

hamburgersssss!

fireworks.

wow hi. i haven't written in a really long time!

i went down south. i didn't work. i just didn't feel like it. well, actually, i DID feel like it but when it was difficult to procure time in the massage parlour, i threw in the cum-covered towel right away and just said, "fuck it." instead, i tooled around town on my red bike. i lunched with friends. i ran out of money.

then i came back up to portland and got right to work but it's not been that interesting so i haven't written. allow me to share some highlights of the last week or so:

friday night. usual antics. decent cash.

saturday night. bachelor party all the way down in bend, four hours south of portland. this was a doozy for many reasons, but i don't want to write too much about it because it would involve a lot of complaining. but here's one thing: we had to go there AND BACK all in one night for reasons that were totally infuriating to me. the party itself was rad, though. the guys could not have been nicer.

let's see, then i worked the 4th of july. which SUCKED. BAD. it was beyond dead. just totally BEYOND. and the girls weren't fun to work with. it was the most random girls working. if i had at least had a buddy working i could have salvaged a bit of fun from the night, but as it was i had a bit of a dark night of the soul. that whole, "what am i doing with my life that i'm sitting around in a strip club WITH AN EMPTY PURSE on the 4th of july while all my friends are shooting off fireworks?" thing. i was so happy to finally get off work and come home, but i'm STILL experiencing a bit of FOMO all these days later. today, for example, i was stalking my girlfriend on facebook and saw that someone had proclaimed him "THE KING OF FIREWORKS."

xo andi

(p.s. i know my lover's gender pronouns are inconsistent in this blog, so you don't need to write comments telling me about it. i'm dating someone who's genderqueer and i don't like the sound of "boyfriend," but i also don't call him "she." we all get to do and say whatever we want in our blogs and our lives: what a lovely thing!)