Short stories

I sit down on a man's lap one night, he claims to be a physician, as he asks me about my boobs. Then he proceeds to bounce me on his lap and say boingy, boingy, boingy, I walk away. Dumbass.
It's my last night at work in Seattle, I decide to dance with someone I would not normally dance with, knowing full well they are going to try and touch me (those of you in the know, know it's a bad idea). He trys to touch me. I get up to tell him he's a douche canoe, he stands up to counter me. I slam him against the wall and not so nicely explain to him that I'm not a fucking prostitute and I won't go to jail for him and I don't give a fuck if he's a programmer he doesn't have enough money to even get close to me. This is when Cam walks over and has her shoe raised to hit him. I love teamwork.
You know we are going to fight when we take our shoes off those things are damn weapons.
One night, also in Seattle a gentleman decides he wants to sit on my stage, I kick him off. He then proceeds to stand up and taunt me. I kicked him in the chest, there may have been blood, last time I checked that shit was a biohazard. Biohazard is a word you can't really argue with, it's like I don't care what happened he has to go.
Every time I take my clothes off I'm told I have a great body, every time I laugh on the inside.
Also just for the record, what I'm really thinking about when I give a dance is...god I hope my shoes don't break. Does this dude realize how hard this is to do in heels? I wonder if he cares that I'm sweating my ass off, followed by hypercrush lyrics..."If the club gets hot then air it out" All the things I should have done that day. Most importantly HOW THE FUCK DO I SELL CHAMPAGNE ROOMS, BECAUSE THIS WOULD BE SO MUCH BETTER IF THERE WERE FOOD AND DRINKS!