bitches can’t be bought

i spent the night at jeb’s unexpectedly so i didn’t have my magical stripper bag for work tonight. i went to walmart and bought cheap foundation, cheap mascara, cheap eyeshadow, cheap jewelry and cheap body spray. brown sugar and vanilla cheap.

i took the lap dance virginity from a 19 year old boy who i would bet my night’s wages is a sex virgin also. he looked stonily ahead.

one customer said, “i don’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend, what with this you’re wearing…” as he fingered my walmart-fake rhinestone necklace i got for ten dollars and eighty-eight cents before tax. i tell him, like it’s a secret, that it’s fake. he says “yeah, but it’s special, someone gave it to you.” i give him a dance and he bucks and moans under me. he’d be a very bad lay, i think. like a fast selfish rabbit.

at the bar i ask  the guy who serves juice and redbull and soda for a glass of water. “anything you want, heartbreaker,” he says. “ah yeah, who’s heart am i breaking?” i say and look around, look back at him and answer myself, “nobody, that’s who.” “well, dean’s been in, making a fool of himself”. i know dean’s still been coming in even though i officially broke up with him. and by “break up” i mean i ended our in-club pseudo-relationship otherwise known as a regular customer fawning over a stripper. after i said i didn’t want to see him, dean told me i had made the worst decision of my life since he was the best friend i would ever have and wanted nothing in return. i pointed out that he never gave me anything without an expectation of something in return and then i said he wasn’t my best friend. he was my customer and this whole time we’d been exchanging resources not friendship. it’s been weeks and i’ve heard through the rumor mill he’s been getting dances from allison who’s my doppelganger in the club. and by doppelganger i mean she looks the most like me out of anyone in the club even though she doesn’t look like me at all.

anyways, dean came in when i was in the dressing room, before i came out begging a glass of water. he yelled at allison because i was there and then he asked for Manbo and yelled at Manbo because i was there. something about he wont come in if i keep working here. he knows what kind of car i drive. Manbo wont talk to me about it. all he says is “he was irate. i just dealt with an irate guy.” and i am angered because this is my life, my weird ex-customer, my job and i should know what flavor of crazy dean’s spewing. but Manbo’s all quiet.

there’s nothing to be done so i go talk to the young hippy couple. the girl’s teeth are all lined up nice and straight but they all point out at a slight angle so that her smile looks really big. they agree to a couple’s dance. i say i love giving couple’s dances and she says “why?” and i say “because i know you guys are going to go home and fuck tonight and it’s going to be hot and if i’m a little part of that, well, that’s great.” she’s not wearing a bra and i finger her nipples through her shirt.

i shoot the shit with her later and she asks how much i work here. “used to be three or four days a week but now it’s more like two, or one, or none. i’ve been getting burnt out.”she says that’s how it is with all jobs.  i don’t tell her about dean and how, for a couple months, i was less a stripper and more a walmart-fake girlfriend or a sugar baby without the penetrative sex or blow jobs or delicious dinners or shopping sprees. just strings of lap dances that were so mindnumbing i would invite other girls to do doubles with me for the a blink in the long monotony of dean staring up at me. i’m still living off the money from those months. i do tell the little hippie chick with the tilted out smile that regulars happen which she thinks is very funny and strange human behavior. i  explain briefly while pointing at allison, “see my ex-regular is switching over to her.” i don’t know allison but we smile kindly at each other and i tell her “i know you’re having drama with dean. i’m approachable.” she says he can have his hissy fit, neither of us need to leave the club. she just wants his money, she doesn’t know me but she knows herself and she’s not about to fuck another girl over.

i sit by rodney, a guy with a grey handlebar mustache and a tatted chest under his grey tank top. tall jeans. he tells me his excuse for being here right away – his brain wont quit. i tell him we’re snake charmers and that i’m a cherry on top of his night if he’ll take me as dessert. he finally agrees and i dance for him once, he asks for a second, and i like rodney because he’s the guy i started dancing for. the guy who only needs two tablespoons of my lovin’ and says please and thank you.

i want to tell this to rodney but he wouldn’t understand because he doesn’t know dean and he doesn’t know me.

dean really thought of himself as the biggest piece of shit in the universe. but he was the shit that the whole universe revolved around and his money made the planets spin. he picked this shithole of a club to spend his money at because it made him a big deal. he didn’t think he would be a big enough deal in the big city so he stuck to our club. he told me that. and when i didn’t bow and bend proper he’d tell me he gave me more money than any other customer i had and i should do this or that or another thing.

i apologized for things i wasn’t sorry for. for dean’s money.

it’s all over now and in the dressing room, at the end of the night, i ask allison if she wants advice to get money from dean. she sighs and says yes. i tell her he’s jealous, don’t dance for anyone else. and he likes a good sob story. “i’m not that type, you know, i just do my thing and ask for what i’m worth. but he wants you to be a victim so he can save you. you know, have a bill that needs to be paid or some rough life circumstance. i don’t know, i was never really good at it. but if you can do it, make your money, you’ve got my blessings.” “i’m not that way either. i’m really independent. i make my money and leave. there’s enough bigspenders running around who don’t act like children that i don’t take much shit. there’s money elsewhere. i don’t think this will last long with him.” she looks at me,  ”i think we’re a lot alike.”

 

Tags: customer, lap dance, regular, strip club, virginity