the go fuck yourself... yup that's right I said it. I'm not into you. So stop trying to take me home you fuck, I don't care how big your dick is, you don't have the money and I really don't have the time. Another day in the life of Red.
It all started out cheery tonight, I went in with a great attitude because last night was amazing, I returned someones wallet without even opening it, that's a pretty big deal if you ask me. So here I am thinking tonight is going to be even better, and it starts out great with some private wealth management dude just paying me to talk to him. Odd as we were talking about the debt ceiling. I love those guys! As soon as I get up to go hustle it's like a fucking storm happens.
EVERY GOD DAMN PERSON TELLS ME NO! I was like are you serious? Really tonight? You are going to tell me no. Do I look fat or something? No no I do not, how do I know some super crazy muscle dude who could literally bench me with one arm tells me I look super solid and that I must work out a ton. It was just a jacked up night. Everyone but me was making millions. WHATEVER!
Then I had the end of the night douche canoe get a champagne room try to get me to go home with him. GAH when will you kids ever learn that unless you have goo gobs of money I'm not going anywhere.
Thanks.
Showing posts with label champagne room. Show all posts
Showing posts with label champagne room. Show all posts
Friday, July 29, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
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!
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!
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