"Here are your three hashbrowns."
"Bitch, I love you"
"No, shut up you don't. You hate me. You don't like me at all. You probably bitch about me to the other girls behind my back all the time."
"No, no bitch I love you."
"Shut up, you do not."
"Bitch, I love you cunt, so just shut the fuck up." *munches on hashbrown*
Classy.
More interesting than the men who come to spend money and ogle, I could talk to the girls all night. Most of them, anyway. Some are black holes of negativity and bitch vibes, and I try to stay as far away as possible. (Those ones are like sinking ships though, and like savy rats, all the others maintain a distance too.)
I love comparing customer stories at the end of the night while we peel off our eyelashes and change back into our street clothes. I love using teamwork tactics with girls like Vixen to lure the guys in like flies into a sticky boob jiggling trap. Men, for the record, are pretty easy targets. I enjoy people watching from a dark corner of a leather couch, tucked away and hidden at 4 a.m. Each week, by Sunday, I have made many temporary friends, and exchange facebook details with a fair few.
I know that because this job is so briefly available to me, I only have a short amount of time where I can meet (i.e. grill) as many women as possible about their experiences as strippers, as attractive young ladies, and as hustlers in a game. So if you meet a new stripper this week, and she asks you about a thousand questions, it could be me!!!
Ciao
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