today i was sitting with a customer who, like many customers, felt compelled to brag to me about his personal fortune. it's so weird when people say, "i'm worth three million dollars," or whatever amount they pull from the ether. first of all, no you're not. second of all, why you gotta phrase it like that? it sounds so literal, like your entire being is worth x amount of money. maybe i am a nut, but i am uncomfortable putting a specific monetary value on a human life.
anyway i was sitting with a customer who was telling me how rich he was "in california." he just moved here and had "closed on a house today." hmm. last time i checked banks weren't open on sundays. and tomorrow's martin luther king day on top of that. but he had a weird hawaiian shirt and jeans on that could've been the outfit of a rich eccentric, and i was waiting to see if he'd buy some dances. so i sat with him and listened to him talk about his malibu beach house. "haha you have a beach house....CD," i joked. he didn't get it. he'd never heard of beach house the band, and i don't think it occurred to him that i was doubting his story. he was so committed to telling it, clearly relishing his own inventive details.
well then i got back up on stage and he continued to sit at a table, while seeming sad to see me go, which i assumed meant he didn't have money to sit at the tip rack. my hunch was confirmed when i looked over at him and he was texting on a giant old flip phone.
i guess you can tell a stripper any story you want, and though most guys tell regular old stories dripping with mundane truth, there's always gonna be your poor guys claiming to be rich, your married guys claiming to be single (and trying to get your number), your community college teacher who says he's a surgeon. just another day in the fantasy cave.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
mommy issues and butch daddies
i was down south last week taking care of some legal matters (arg!) and seeing a few clients. i may have mentioned that my best client, the hot doctor, broke up with me because he got a girlfriend. i had become quite used to seeing him a few times a month, and i really liked him a lot. in fact, i always looked forward to seeing him. that extra few hundred dollars a week didn't hurt, either. but i'm happy for him, in a broke kind of way. so i saw some other totally fine, but less favorite clients. the bossy japanese businessman i've written about before, who likes to meet me in a private hot tub room at the japanese bathhouse. the sweet aging frat boy who is about 40 but still wears a white baseball cap and abercrombie & fitch hoodies. he lives in a super fancy house on the edge of town and insists on paying for my roundtrip cabfare ($80) instead of just coming to my incall. totally fine with me--i love outcalls because then i don't have to pay the house.
i also did a BDSM double with a good friend of mine and her regular, in which she played the guy's mommy and i was his hot cousin. i've done domination/humiliation doubles with this friend before, and she never ceases to amaze me with her ability to set a scene, and just TALK. she is seriously theee best dirty talker and boss bitch i've ever known. truly inspirational. i could really see how this client likes to be babied by her, because she is so totally confident and in control that he can take off his fancy suit, lay down his CEO vigilance, and just trust her completely with his unusual desires for a couple of hours. the story was that he had stolen a pair of her underwear, and on and on from there. there was some sick mommy stuff, spanking followed by positive reinforcement, followed by more spanking. the guy wanted his pain boundaries pushed, so we beat him so thoroughly he ended up using his safeword, "red." and then the finale was some cousin/cousin jerkoff action. whenever i've doubled with this girl, she's the talking top, doing almost all of the talking, and i'm the bottom, following her lead, agreeing with whatever she's said, and filling in details here and there. to even out the workload i always jerk the guy off and clean up the room after. it feels fair splitting the $ that way.
after that session i went to meet a friend at a bar to watch a trailblazer's game. it's usually hard to find a sports bar outside of portland where they will show the blazers on a big screen, but my friend knows the owner of this place. when i arrived at the bar, my friend wasn't there yet. i sat down at the bar, next to an older butch of the white-collar professional variety. she kept glancing over at me, and when i ordered a drink she told the bartender to put on her tab. i thanked her, and we ended up chatting. she told me about her fancy job for a while, then when she asked what i did, i just didn't feel like lying about it so i told her i strip and do sensual massage. it's like she was waiting for me to say that or something, because she immediately started telling me about her call girl!!!
she said she's super busy and just doesn't have time to go out trying to meet girls (yet apparently has time to sit drinking alone at sports bars, but let's just go with her version here), plus she really only likes super high femme pretty girls who are younger than she, and she acknowledges that she herself has gotten kind of frumpy over the years, and is somewhat out of touch with younger culture. but she has a lot of money, so after tossing the idea around for YEARS, she finally decided she would just seek an arrangement with somebody. she thought about calling an actual prostitute, but when she thought about what she wanted, she just wanted to be touched and massaged, and have hand-sex. so she called a few massage girls to see if they saw women. most were honest and said that they didn't really want to, but finally one of them referred her to a lesbian co-worker, who mostly sees guys but talks about wanting to see women. the butch called the lezzie up, and she has been coming over once or twice a week ever since. "she is just a knockout," she said. "and we have amazing chemistry. whether it's real or manufactured, i don't know. but i feel it."
wow. i was kind of floored. but also really happy for the girl and the butch. sounds like a perfect arrangement for them. i, personally, have zero interest in seeing women on a work level. i mean, if i could see them first maybe, but that's not generally part of the deal. it's not supposed to matter what the client looks like anyway, they are choosing you. also, it seems like that would be too intimate, would too closely resemble the type of actual sex i engage in (when i am so lucky). my actual sex life is important to me and i don't want to wreck it.
anyway. just another day full of weird characters. it's nice to go down south and be around interesting people basically every minute of every day. kind of counter-balances the entire days i spend not talking to a single person up in portland.
p.s. the blazers won! which hardly ever happens, and was definitely cause for celebration.
i also did a BDSM double with a good friend of mine and her regular, in which she played the guy's mommy and i was his hot cousin. i've done domination/humiliation doubles with this friend before, and she never ceases to amaze me with her ability to set a scene, and just TALK. she is seriously theee best dirty talker and boss bitch i've ever known. truly inspirational. i could really see how this client likes to be babied by her, because she is so totally confident and in control that he can take off his fancy suit, lay down his CEO vigilance, and just trust her completely with his unusual desires for a couple of hours. the story was that he had stolen a pair of her underwear, and on and on from there. there was some sick mommy stuff, spanking followed by positive reinforcement, followed by more spanking. the guy wanted his pain boundaries pushed, so we beat him so thoroughly he ended up using his safeword, "red." and then the finale was some cousin/cousin jerkoff action. whenever i've doubled with this girl, she's the talking top, doing almost all of the talking, and i'm the bottom, following her lead, agreeing with whatever she's said, and filling in details here and there. to even out the workload i always jerk the guy off and clean up the room after. it feels fair splitting the $ that way.
after that session i went to meet a friend at a bar to watch a trailblazer's game. it's usually hard to find a sports bar outside of portland where they will show the blazers on a big screen, but my friend knows the owner of this place. when i arrived at the bar, my friend wasn't there yet. i sat down at the bar, next to an older butch of the white-collar professional variety. she kept glancing over at me, and when i ordered a drink she told the bartender to put on her tab. i thanked her, and we ended up chatting. she told me about her fancy job for a while, then when she asked what i did, i just didn't feel like lying about it so i told her i strip and do sensual massage. it's like she was waiting for me to say that or something, because she immediately started telling me about her call girl!!!
she said she's super busy and just doesn't have time to go out trying to meet girls (yet apparently has time to sit drinking alone at sports bars, but let's just go with her version here), plus she really only likes super high femme pretty girls who are younger than she, and she acknowledges that she herself has gotten kind of frumpy over the years, and is somewhat out of touch with younger culture. but she has a lot of money, so after tossing the idea around for YEARS, she finally decided she would just seek an arrangement with somebody. she thought about calling an actual prostitute, but when she thought about what she wanted, she just wanted to be touched and massaged, and have hand-sex. so she called a few massage girls to see if they saw women. most were honest and said that they didn't really want to, but finally one of them referred her to a lesbian co-worker, who mostly sees guys but talks about wanting to see women. the butch called the lezzie up, and she has been coming over once or twice a week ever since. "she is just a knockout," she said. "and we have amazing chemistry. whether it's real or manufactured, i don't know. but i feel it."
wow. i was kind of floored. but also really happy for the girl and the butch. sounds like a perfect arrangement for them. i, personally, have zero interest in seeing women on a work level. i mean, if i could see them first maybe, but that's not generally part of the deal. it's not supposed to matter what the client looks like anyway, they are choosing you. also, it seems like that would be too intimate, would too closely resemble the type of actual sex i engage in (when i am so lucky). my actual sex life is important to me and i don't want to wreck it.
anyway. just another day full of weird characters. it's nice to go down south and be around interesting people basically every minute of every day. kind of counter-balances the entire days i spend not talking to a single person up in portland.
p.s. the blazers won! which hardly ever happens, and was definitely cause for celebration.
Sunday, December 30, 2012
xmas eve eve
(this is from dec 23. i thought i'd posted it, but it was saved as a draft. oopsie.)
i got called in to work tonight and it was pretty slow at first, but since i wasn't on the schedule and was just covering for someone, all the money i made felt kinda like bonus money. i had a few good customers, and then i was sitting at the bar drinking a water. and this cheap loser who had been sitting at my rack earlier came up and stood behind me. he started talking to the back of my neck. i turned around a little to get him out of my neck zone (which is a highly personal area, btw--i'd much rather rub my ass on someone's dick with only a sweatpants barrier than have anyone who's not my girlfriend breathing, touching, or even vaguely nuzzling my neck). but when i turned, he was then like an inch from my face. unable to win, i moved to the next barstool and instead of going away, he sat down in the seat i'd just vacated.
"how's your night?" he said. a question that is just awesome from someone who has been watching you get naked over and over again for hours, but has yet to tip even one dollar.
"it's going alright," i said.
"not making much money, huh?" he said, and before waiting for me to answer he goes, "well i wonder why that is. maybe it's because when you get guys coming up to gynecologist row, A K A 'the rack,' you just ignore them and they go away. maybe some people don't like uptight snobs."
gynecologist row? BARF.
i said, "actually my money's fine tonight."
"well, i doubt that. and anyway it could be a lot better if you didn't play favorites at the rack. maybe then some people would get a lapdance from you."
his tone was mean, and bordering on hateful. "rude," i can deal with, but "hateful" just feels dangerous. still, i couldn't stop my self from saying, "yes. i do play favorites at the rack. my favorites are polite gentlemen who are tipping generously. not skeezy tightwads like yourself."
"i was only trying to give you some advice. bitch!" but at least then he went away.
i think i've mentioned that often when someone is really gross, someone truly sweet will come along shortly.
i was on stage a little while later having a fun time dancing for a bunch of cute people who were tipping well. i looked up and there was this movie-star looking dude at the bar. super handsome and well-dressed, and i liked him right away. he had a cloud of visible good energy around him or something. a little difficult to explain, but i feel this way from time to time about people, and they usually turn out to be great. he was looking at me and smiling so i smiled back and then continued dancing. the next thing i knew he was standing at the stage, making it rain in an expert manner (not just tossing clumps of bills and hoping for the best, which some people do when they realize they don't know how to do it like a rap star). it was beautiful, $250-ish dollar bills like snowflakes in a flurry, raining slowly down on me. then he goes, "merry christmas, beautiful!" and left.
in all my years of dancing, that's the first time that's happened to me. i mean, $20, $50, even (rarely) $100, sure. but $250 or $300 or however much it was looks a lot more magical. everyone really loved when that happened, too. it changed the whole mood of the club, and from then on it was CASH MONEY all night. i reallllllly needed a good night like that. it's crazy how a few crappy shifts in a row can sort of wreck you for the month. also crazy how one great shift can remedy your immediate financial woes.
if i'm ever rich, i am totally going to do things like that all the time.
i got called in to work tonight and it was pretty slow at first, but since i wasn't on the schedule and was just covering for someone, all the money i made felt kinda like bonus money. i had a few good customers, and then i was sitting at the bar drinking a water. and this cheap loser who had been sitting at my rack earlier came up and stood behind me. he started talking to the back of my neck. i turned around a little to get him out of my neck zone (which is a highly personal area, btw--i'd much rather rub my ass on someone's dick with only a sweatpants barrier than have anyone who's not my girlfriend breathing, touching, or even vaguely nuzzling my neck). but when i turned, he was then like an inch from my face. unable to win, i moved to the next barstool and instead of going away, he sat down in the seat i'd just vacated.
"how's your night?" he said. a question that is just awesome from someone who has been watching you get naked over and over again for hours, but has yet to tip even one dollar.
"it's going alright," i said.
"not making much money, huh?" he said, and before waiting for me to answer he goes, "well i wonder why that is. maybe it's because when you get guys coming up to gynecologist row, A K A 'the rack,' you just ignore them and they go away. maybe some people don't like uptight snobs."
gynecologist row? BARF.
i said, "actually my money's fine tonight."
"well, i doubt that. and anyway it could be a lot better if you didn't play favorites at the rack. maybe then some people would get a lapdance from you."
his tone was mean, and bordering on hateful. "rude," i can deal with, but "hateful" just feels dangerous. still, i couldn't stop my self from saying, "yes. i do play favorites at the rack. my favorites are polite gentlemen who are tipping generously. not skeezy tightwads like yourself."
"i was only trying to give you some advice. bitch!" but at least then he went away.
i think i've mentioned that often when someone is really gross, someone truly sweet will come along shortly.
i was on stage a little while later having a fun time dancing for a bunch of cute people who were tipping well. i looked up and there was this movie-star looking dude at the bar. super handsome and well-dressed, and i liked him right away. he had a cloud of visible good energy around him or something. a little difficult to explain, but i feel this way from time to time about people, and they usually turn out to be great. he was looking at me and smiling so i smiled back and then continued dancing. the next thing i knew he was standing at the stage, making it rain in an expert manner (not just tossing clumps of bills and hoping for the best, which some people do when they realize they don't know how to do it like a rap star). it was beautiful, $250-ish dollar bills like snowflakes in a flurry, raining slowly down on me. then he goes, "merry christmas, beautiful!" and left.
in all my years of dancing, that's the first time that's happened to me. i mean, $20, $50, even (rarely) $100, sure. but $250 or $300 or however much it was looks a lot more magical. everyone really loved when that happened, too. it changed the whole mood of the club, and from then on it was CASH MONEY all night. i reallllllly needed a good night like that. it's crazy how a few crappy shifts in a row can sort of wreck you for the month. also crazy how one great shift can remedy your immediate financial woes.
if i'm ever rich, i am totally going to do things like that all the time.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
emo
hi. i haven't written in a loooong time. i got dumped again (same person, different year) and have been VERY BUMMED. and by that i mean morbidly depressed. i really LOST IT this time, i've never cried so much in my life--crazy crying, where you can't get anything done, and you cry so much you end up barfing. full emotional meltdown times over here. a full two months of it.
it's embarrassing to have that kind of meltdown over a lover. but i've never been as in love and i dunno, i just really thought i'd met my person who i was gonna be with for a long time (forever? eek?). i've always been guarded and withholding in relationships, but this time i feel like i put *almost* my whole self out there, or tried to at least. to have someone know me better than anyone has EVER, and to not want me was (and still is) devastating. it brought all my feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness and unlovability to the surface. i felt like a walking wound, my heart literally, physically ached in my chest.
my co-worker saw that i was struggling and referred me to this spiritual healer. i went to see her and she led me through some visualizations and stuff that really worked in terms of closing up my heart chakra till it's healed a bit. my chest stopped hurting immediately, and that raw feeling got less intense. i wouldn't say i'm feeling "better," but i have gotten to a point where i am able to dissuade myself from lying on the floor all day blowing my nose on my nightgown.
from a work standpoint, heartbreak sure is a moneymaker. i've written about this before, how guys just cannot get enough of you if you seem broken and vulnerable. i wasn't able to wear eye makeup to work for several weeks because my crying jags were unpredictable and i never knew when i'd need to go hide in the bathroom for a bit. i think i look younger or easy or something without makeup because CHA-CHING, dude.
so. the moral of this story is that i'm getting back on my feet emotionally and starting to get things done like writing and sewing and cooking normal meals for myself. and also that a bedraggled, puffy-eyed stripper is just irresistable so don't be afraid to take off that snot-covered nightie and go to work after an emo day, girls, if you can force yourself to do so.
xo andi
it's embarrassing to have that kind of meltdown over a lover. but i've never been as in love and i dunno, i just really thought i'd met my person who i was gonna be with for a long time (forever? eek?). i've always been guarded and withholding in relationships, but this time i feel like i put *almost* my whole self out there, or tried to at least. to have someone know me better than anyone has EVER, and to not want me was (and still is) devastating. it brought all my feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness and unlovability to the surface. i felt like a walking wound, my heart literally, physically ached in my chest.
my co-worker saw that i was struggling and referred me to this spiritual healer. i went to see her and she led me through some visualizations and stuff that really worked in terms of closing up my heart chakra till it's healed a bit. my chest stopped hurting immediately, and that raw feeling got less intense. i wouldn't say i'm feeling "better," but i have gotten to a point where i am able to dissuade myself from lying on the floor all day blowing my nose on my nightgown.
from a work standpoint, heartbreak sure is a moneymaker. i've written about this before, how guys just cannot get enough of you if you seem broken and vulnerable. i wasn't able to wear eye makeup to work for several weeks because my crying jags were unpredictable and i never knew when i'd need to go hide in the bathroom for a bit. i think i look younger or easy or something without makeup because CHA-CHING, dude.
so. the moral of this story is that i'm getting back on my feet emotionally and starting to get things done like writing and sewing and cooking normal meals for myself. and also that a bedraggled, puffy-eyed stripper is just irresistable so don't be afraid to take off that snot-covered nightie and go to work after an emo day, girls, if you can force yourself to do so.
xo andi
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
thanks, bros.
i spent all my rent money on a fancy new sewing machine, thinking "whatever, i'll make it back." but then i went to work last night and it was so dead. i sat with a rich-looking guy for a while, and he turned out to be a dud. got a few dances from a regular. then the rich dude wanted me to sit with him again and i said, "sorry but i have to go put on my eyelashes." he was like, "why? it's dead in here." but i just had a feeling like my money was on its way, and having my eyelashes on is part of the way i like to greet my money.
well i glued my eyelashes and waited. the club filled up, but it wasn't anybody great. i was kind of freaking out around 1am. i texted my ex to see if i could borrow rent money for a couple days. he said sure. but i was hoping it wouldn't come to that.
then these two young guys came in. my co-workers didn't pay them any attention because i guess they really didn't look like spenders. i had a good feeling about them, though, so i went and chatted a little between sets. they were 22 year-old canadians on a roadtrip, and they were super polite and cute. when i got back on stage, one of them came and lined up several folded dollars on my rack. when i collected them at the end of my set, i saw they were actually 1's folded on top of 20's. STOKED.
so i went and had a drink with them. they didn't want lap dances, but the next time i got on stage they rained about $200 on me. they did it again on my next set, too. then one of them complained that he had drank too much and was getting the spins. the other one said, "just drink more, bro! that's what i did and i feel fine!" but the spinny one looked green. they left, and i said a lil thank you to the universe.
Monday, August 20, 2012
beefcake bubble bath
i was in new york last week. the plan was to work a bunch, but it ended up being mostly a vacation. i did see a couple massage clients, though. one was an outcall in central park west (is that what you call the part of the upper west side that is right next to central park? i'm not a new yorker).
i showed up to the guy's apartment on the 7th floor of a big brownstone building. and let me tell you first of all that the place was like no other apartment i've been in. it was a total palace and very classy rustic, like walking into a chic mountain lodge. real bearskin rug. huge overstuffed oxblood leather couches. HUGE tv blaring a game (i can't remember what it was, maybe olympic basketball? i dunno).
the client invited me in, and was real stiff and awkward, wouldn't really make eye-contact. when people don't make eye contact, i get nervous and immediately identify my exit route, should i need it. i didn't see my "donation" anywhere, i hate having to ask. JUST PUT IT WHERE I CAN SEE IT. DUH. so i asked to use the restroom because i had to pee, and also because i was hoping when i got back he'd have left my $ out. the bathroom was super girly, with a pink chenille robe hanging on the door and a floral scrunchie on the doorknob, screaming: "wife in the hamptons for the weekend."
the donation still wasn't out, so i asked for it which made him bristle. i felt annoyed like, "yeah, i know it's awkward, your fault dude." with that taken care of, we went into his bedroom. i started to fold back the duvet so we wouldn't get oil or cum on it, and he said, "oh don't do that yet. let's go sit in the hot tub." it was a realllllly hot day and the last thing i wanted was to get into a steamy hot tub. he could see that i was reluctant, and he said, "i made it kind of cool, so we could cool off." ok. sure. i followed him to what i assumed was gonna be a little deck or something, but it was actually just the other bathroom, where there was a BATH TUB with jets, all fired up, bubbles and everything. i was thinking THIS IS NOT A HOT TUB.
he slid into the tub, and i was standing there. i really didn't feel like taking a bath, but i could tell he didn't want the possibility of a stray blonde hair in his bed so i got in the tub. like the ocean, i don't turn my back on a new client ever. so i got in facing him, despite his manhandling efforts to position me with his dick resting in my ass crack. NOPE. it was awkward and weird. the guy was rude, kept begging me for a blow job, asking me to sit on his dick. he jammed his big fingers in my pussy, it felt gross and i told him not to do that again. he kept trying and and was just manhandling me so much. i hated being there but i had a feeling things wouldn't go very well if i tried to just leave. so i dirty talked him till he was super hard, got him off, took a quick shower and got the hell out of there.
listen, i arrived there with the intention of giving this guy an awesome massage, not rushing, leading him through some fun times before the happy ending. i like to provide a quality experience for my clients. but if you're gonna be a weirdo, never make any eye contact, beg me to suck your dick, insist on keeping a sporting event blaring on every tv in every room of your house, and manhandle me to the point where i'm afraid of you, i'm gonna want to leave as soon as possible.
i threw on my clothes and when i checked the time upon getting back outside, i saw that i'd only been there for a little over half an hour. whoa. record time.
after that, i just kind of didn't wanna work anymore and my phone was barely ringing anyhow. so i just went to the beach a lot with my sister, walked around town, window-shopped, and went to museums. i needed a vacation anyway.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
rape vibes
i had a majorly creepy client today. when i checked his references, the girls both said he was fine. one did mention that he was "very...eccentric," but she also said he was safe and polite, so i felt ok seeing him.
he was late. and then he started talking and did not stop for the whole hour. he wanted to know what my fantasies are. i told him mine were a little boring lately, but that i would love to hear about his. he said he has really wild ones, very taboo. "teacher and student stuff," he said (which is hardly taboo. but let's go with it). so we talked about that for a while, what he'd do to me if i were his student, etc. then he said, "are you sure you don't want to share your darkest fantasies with me? i might be able to help you with them."
umm.
"another girl i was seeing, for example," he said, "had a very twisted fantasy. a RAPE fantasy." dramatic pause. "she'd been wanting to act it out for years, but really needed to find the right man for the job. she needed someone strong, powerful." another pause. "i was able to help her realize her fantasy. it was quite fulfilling for us both."
i hugely doubted that a massage girl would ASK this dude to rape her. or to faux-rape her. or any of it. i didn't even want to start thinking about whether this rape had happened in any way. the whole "she WANTED me to rape her" thing is never something you want to hear from a strange man with whom you're naked in a small room. and with whom you have no desire to have sex.
i felt creeped out. i knew he was trying to shock me, and maybe even to scare me. but i just acted like everything was fine and finished the massage. he kept asking me to do extra things, like would i blow him for more money, and could he get on top of me, i told him i wasn't into it. i was so glad to see him leave, and i put him in my phone as a "NO/don't see."
he was late. and then he started talking and did not stop for the whole hour. he wanted to know what my fantasies are. i told him mine were a little boring lately, but that i would love to hear about his. he said he has really wild ones, very taboo. "teacher and student stuff," he said (which is hardly taboo. but let's go with it). so we talked about that for a while, what he'd do to me if i were his student, etc. then he said, "are you sure you don't want to share your darkest fantasies with me? i might be able to help you with them."
umm.
"another girl i was seeing, for example," he said, "had a very twisted fantasy. a RAPE fantasy." dramatic pause. "she'd been wanting to act it out for years, but really needed to find the right man for the job. she needed someone strong, powerful." another pause. "i was able to help her realize her fantasy. it was quite fulfilling for us both."
i hugely doubted that a massage girl would ASK this dude to rape her. or to faux-rape her. or any of it. i didn't even want to start thinking about whether this rape had happened in any way. the whole "she WANTED me to rape her" thing is never something you want to hear from a strange man with whom you're naked in a small room. and with whom you have no desire to have sex.
i felt creeped out. i knew he was trying to shock me, and maybe even to scare me. but i just acted like everything was fine and finished the massage. he kept asking me to do extra things, like would i blow him for more money, and could he get on top of me, i told him i wasn't into it. i was so glad to see him leave, and i put him in my phone as a "NO/don't see."
Monday, July 30, 2012
Sunday, July 22, 2012
bar night
(this entry is from a few weeks ago. i thought i had published it but i guess i accidentally only saved it as a draft.)
on monday i was down south. i got really sick and was looking forward to flying back up to portland at 9:40pm. then i missed my flight. i got to the airport a few minutes too late to check in. such a stupid mistake. after being turned away at check-in, i sat down in a chair and bawled my face off, audibly, and i didn't care who heard. then i got out my computer and booked a new flight for the next morning. i dragged myself out of the chair, away of the airport, back onto the train, and back into the city.
on monday i was down south. i got really sick and was looking forward to flying back up to portland at 9:40pm. then i missed my flight. i got to the airport a few minutes too late to check in. such a stupid mistake. after being turned away at check-in, i sat down in a chair and bawled my face off, audibly, and i didn't care who heard. then i got out my computer and booked a new flight for the next morning. i dragged myself out of the chair, away of the airport, back onto the train, and back into the city.
my subletter had returned from her weekend away and was back in my apartment, so i couldn't go home. my best friend was on vacation in new york, and my other good friend just moved to LA. i could've called someone randomly, out of the blue at 10pm, and asked to crash, but i couldn't think of who to call. especially since i sneak in and out of town all the time without calling my friends, and some of them have started to take it personally. so i decided to stay on the couch at the massage parlor. i texted my boss to make sure it was ok, and she said sure.
the thought of spending the night there was kind of a bummer. i wasn't bedtime-sleepy yet, and there really is nothing to do there if you're not working is to read, and the book i'm reading had just taken a depressing plot turn. i wanted to try and salvage my mood at least somewhat, so i thought, "when i get off the train, i'll stop into walgreens and buy a bottle of wine and some snacks. then i'll just drink wine till i pass out, and when i wake up it will be time to go to the airport." sounded like a perfect plan. i do love a good excuse to eat junk food and drink wine to excess.
i got off the train and rushed to walgreens just in time to see them pulling down the metal gate. closed. i looked at my phone. 10:01. FUCK. of course.
so i started walking down the block to the massage studio. i was almost there, but i found myself filled with panic and dread at trying to sleep there stone cold sober. i passed a crappy-looking bar that i'd never noticed before. i didn't actually decide to go there, so much as my feet turned me around and walked me into the bar. my butt was pulled onto a barstool, as if there was a giant magnet in my back pocket. it was a little weird, actually.
i ordered a fernet with a ginger back. i must've looked kinda pathetic with mascara streaked down my face from crying before, because the bartender poured me a double and said, "this one's on me."
i was tempted to knock it back and order another, but decided to take it slow so i wouldn't have to go to bed as soon. i'd just taken one little sip when what do you know, but a friend from the massage place popped in and sat down next to me. we've known each other for years. 12 years, in fact. we used to work together at a peep show. i still remember the first time i saw her. it was on her first day of stripping, ever. she came into the dressing room all tall and hot and shy. she looked super normal with her clothes on, but as soon as she took them off it was like BAM: jessica rabbit. tiny waist, flat tummy, curvy hips and HUGE perky teardrop tits. i liked her (had a crush on her) immediately and invited her out to do things with me so often that eventually she started saying yes. we used to go to the most random parties and people would get excited and want to share their drinks and drugs with us. we had so much fun being reckless and hot together. we hung out a lot for several years, then she ran into some troubles and we lost touch, but eventually we started seeing each other around again. and then we ended up working at the same massage parlor. we don't hang out very much anymore but we still love each other a lot.`
so. it was pretty perfect that she happened to pop in to that weird little crappy bar at exactly the right moment. she sat down and the bartender asked if she'd like her usual. she goes, "yeah." so strange that she goes there often enough to have a usual, and that the usual is a heineken and a hot dog. but i guess we all get into our little routines.
we just sat there drinking and laughing for hours. guys kept coming over, buying us drinks, then realizing that we weren't gonna pay them any attention, and going away. it was really really nice. and then when i was good and drunk, i went down the street to the massage studio, made myself a little bed on the couch, and passed out before i even had a chance to be bothered by the place's persistent underlying cum smell. i woke up and scrambled back to the airport, got on my over-priced full-fare flight, and was back at work at the strip club tonight.
so i started walking down the block to the massage studio. i was almost there, but i found myself filled with panic and dread at trying to sleep there stone cold sober. i passed a crappy-looking bar that i'd never noticed before. i didn't actually decide to go there, so much as my feet turned me around and walked me into the bar. my butt was pulled onto a barstool, as if there was a giant magnet in my back pocket. it was a little weird, actually.
i ordered a fernet with a ginger back. i must've looked kinda pathetic with mascara streaked down my face from crying before, because the bartender poured me a double and said, "this one's on me."
i was tempted to knock it back and order another, but decided to take it slow so i wouldn't have to go to bed as soon. i'd just taken one little sip when what do you know, but a friend from the massage place popped in and sat down next to me. we've known each other for years. 12 years, in fact. we used to work together at a peep show. i still remember the first time i saw her. it was on her first day of stripping, ever. she came into the dressing room all tall and hot and shy. she looked super normal with her clothes on, but as soon as she took them off it was like BAM: jessica rabbit. tiny waist, flat tummy, curvy hips and HUGE perky teardrop tits. i liked her (had a crush on her) immediately and invited her out to do things with me so often that eventually she started saying yes. we used to go to the most random parties and people would get excited and want to share their drinks and drugs with us. we had so much fun being reckless and hot together. we hung out a lot for several years, then she ran into some troubles and we lost touch, but eventually we started seeing each other around again. and then we ended up working at the same massage parlor. we don't hang out very much anymore but we still love each other a lot.`
so. it was pretty perfect that she happened to pop in to that weird little crappy bar at exactly the right moment. she sat down and the bartender asked if she'd like her usual. she goes, "yeah." so strange that she goes there often enough to have a usual, and that the usual is a heineken and a hot dog. but i guess we all get into our little routines.
we just sat there drinking and laughing for hours. guys kept coming over, buying us drinks, then realizing that we weren't gonna pay them any attention, and going away. it was really really nice. and then when i was good and drunk, i went down the street to the massage studio, made myself a little bed on the couch, and passed out before i even had a chance to be bothered by the place's persistent underlying cum smell. i woke up and scrambled back to the airport, got on my over-priced full-fare flight, and was back at work at the strip club tonight.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
gay
last night these two hot girls were sitting at my rack with their cute guy friend. they seemed intimate with each other, i thought they were a threesome. they tipped a lot and at the end of my set, one of the girls asked if i'd do a dance for the guy. i said sure, and then she goes, "can i come watch? i'll give you another $20." so nice not to have someone wanting to watch for free. so we went to the lapdance area and i asked the guy, "is this your girlfriend?" and they both laughed and said no. they were just friends and this was the guy's bachelor party.
i danced for the guy and he was freaking out and he got a giant boner. the girl was super into it, too, and was really sexy. a big-chested fancy lady with sort of a butchness to her. i had motorboated her cleavage while she was at my rack, and it was super soft and bouncy feeling. NOM NOM NOM.
anyway when the dance was done, the guy goes, "wow. that was amazing. i'm gay and that was the closest i've ever been to a woman. THANK YOU."
!!!
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