You always want to be little spoon!

No, no,not me. I feel like I'm never little spoon.
This whole conversation started last night, while I was having a glass of wine with a friend I haven't seen in gosh 9 months. Only after I finished my first final, because I don't drink while taking tests. We were talking about recent conquests. This conversation had me laughing for over an hour. Why? I'm the most conservative stripper ever and I dont think of sex like that. Wait yes I do.
Anyway we were discussing proper bedroom etiquette, and manners, such as if the bathroom door is closed leave it that way. You never #2 in front of anyone, not okay. Always finish what you start especially if you finish early. Finishing early is only acceptable after a long dry spell. Leave before you overstay your welcome.
We had a brief discussion on dating people who might be a little batty. Only because I know a few of the girls that he has spent some time with. In the past couple years it appears that I just attract the ones with a screw loose.
Anyway it turned into a conversation about dating people under the age of 30 (which I swear to god I will never do again, and really 30 is pushing it, I think I need to make a rule that they must be like 7 years old than me or something.). How they happen to be children, almost literally I have found myself taking care of crying men. Now there is nothing wrong with crying when it's appropriate. Im down to be an ear to listen to whatever is on your mind, and if you are really sad about something I'm happy to console you.
It moved from there to the fact that I am rarely little spoon...Or there was the guy who wanted to sleep on my shoulder. Yes that's right my shoulder. Let me just state I still have a vagina and I'm curvy in all the right places so there is no way  to mistake me for a man.  I have never felt more masculine, than I did at that moment. Apparently that is what I have become. I've become both the man and the woman in relationships. I pay for dinner, I make dinner, I work my ass off, I go to school, and I'm always the big spoon. Someone is asking to get pegged and I'm not picking up on the hint.
It leads me to the question. What happened to all the real men? What happened to being challenged. Really what happened to getting to feel safe, not like you have to fight your own fights and maybe his too. I'm officially tired of feeling like I could kick everyone's ass, even the ones that are in the gym everyday. I mean I get it I'm pretty dominate...but come on! If you can't stand the heat get the fuck out the kitchen. Actually if you want to be the woman can you please get in the kitchen and make me breakfast, and don't over cook my eggs. 
This, this, is why I'm staying single. 

Some quick quips to entertain you this morning...

Me: I want to go home
Manager: Can't you just stay and sell one more dance?
Me: You do realize I've already made up my mind, I'm tired, I'm crabby, and I don't see any sales in my future.
Manager: Fine, give me $60.
Me: ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY NO! YOU CAN HAVE $50
Manager: Don't kill the messenger I'm just trying to do my job.
Me: FUCK THAT I'LL KILL YOU AND EVERY SUBSEQUENT MESSENGER TILL THE OWNER GETS HERE AND I MIGHT JUST KILL HIM TOO!
Manager: You know I sort of believe you...ok $50
Manager: Why do you have to be so scary all the time.
(for the record should the owner or anyone in management read this, I won't be killing anyone it's not an actual threat)
Locker room banter has been reduced lately to how big my ass is and that it might have it's own gravitational pull.

There has been a lot of talk about boob-jobs lately...for some reason it appears that the 90's are back and everyone wants melons again.

Me: you know how I get these abs?
Stripper: No, how?
Me: I do twists like this(doing twists) followed by this...Random flex pose with a facial expression that looks like I ate a lemon.
Stripper: you should make a you tube video of your work-out it would be hilarious.

...Laughter ensues, photo to follow.

Manager: All the crazy stuff that happens around here you should write a book.
Me: You are the 5th person this week to say that. I might have to work on my horrible english first.

Customer: How did you recognize me I'm wearing a wig.
Me: I'm observant, the way you stand gave it away...actually that's a lie, actual hair metal rockers don't wear such nerdy shoes.
Customer: Damn, I knew I should have worn different shoes.