Let me slap you, you patron asshole, you.
Okay… In all of my drunken (not really but kind of buzzed) stupor… What makes a customer think it is okay to do a “finger fiddle” on your pussy? You know the finger fiddle. I have named it. A finger fiddle is when a guy takes one finger and tries to nonchalantly flick your pussy. Tonight was not my night. I almost changed my stage name to the Terminator. One guy wanted to kis me! Seriously, I am a stripper but who does that? Who kisses strippers? I could have sucked twenty dicks before I came to work. Are you serious?
Look. I know you think I like you. That is the only way you are going to give me any money. You can’t kiss me. You can’t lick my nipples. The old ass guy tonight (forgot his name because it wasn’t important) tried to lick one of his fingers and place it on my nipple. I god damn near fell in the floor trying to escape. He asked, “What’s wrong?” I told a nice lie: ” I don’t work here because this is my only option. I work here by choice. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.” Which we all know is a god damn lie. But it pissed me off. This guy pushed buttons inside me that haven’t been pushed in a long time with his nastiness. You aren’t offering any extra money. We did four dances. He tried to argue it was three and I firmly told him it was four because it honestly was. He acted like he had an attitude about paying me. You know what I think of your little attitude fucker? I think I should collect my money and go tell the bouncer you solicited me for sex and then tried to sell me cocaine. That’s what I think. I didn’t go to those extremes tonight because for some reason, I was in a good mood. But he had some fucking nerve. Lately, I have been more sensitive to people trying to touch me. I can’t explain why but I shy away from that completely.
My rules are:
Don’t touch my face. I don’t want pimples and you have dirt on your hands that will clog my pores.
Don’t try to exchange bodily fluids with me. That is just downright disgusting.
Don’t attempt to touch my nether regions. That is personal to me and if they were for play I would work in a nude club. Dumbass.
Hell no. You can’t have a kiss.
And fucking with my money? Provoke me if you want to. I will turn into Satan. Better yet Satonia. The female version.
Are these fuckers serious? Don’t fucking insult me by walking up to me and giving me one, single, solitary dollar. What the fuck does a dollar do? Do I look like a god damn vending machine? A dollar won’t even buy you a third of a gallon of gas. Don’t fuck with me…
These guys like to come in and pretend they are so much smarter than dancers. Guess what? I have more brain cells in my left tit than you have in your whole fucking head.
And I never forget to ask for a tip… Douchebags.
Recent Comments