Sunday, February 10, 2013

Strippers don't let other strippers drive home drunk

Last night one of our girls was a little too wasty pants to drive. I some how got wind of it. Well it was not a rumor really, she needed to use the bathroom after me and I could just tell. I told her she couldn't drive home. We argued about it for a little while. She said she didn't want to inconvenience me with driving up north. I told her a bigger inconvenience would be fitting a funeral into my schedule or visiting her in jail and that there was no fucking way I was about to let her drive.

There are few things I get really fucking riled out up about, drunk driving is one of them. My childhood best friend lost her brother to a drunk driver while he was on the way to the hospital to find out if she was having a boy or a girl, he never was able to meet her daughter. One of my best Seattle friends was killed by a drunk driver in Portland, mind you he was straight edge. It was the reason I took the train down there the first time. I think about it every single time, there is always a moment where I lean my head back and hold back a couple of tears every time I go. One of our doormen (who has moved to LA) lost his infant son to a drunk driver. He and his girlfriend had a flat tire, they got out of the car to check it out, stepped a few feet away to call tripe A, a drunk driver smashed into his car with his son in it.  My ex-boyfriend (long after we broke up) left the keys to his apartment in his apartment door. He also left the  gucci wallet I bought him as a christmas on the car seat, his car was stolen and totaled. I mean...that's his story anyway. I still think he was drunk and totaled it himself and didn't want to take responsibility for it because he is generally irresponsible. He basically opened up his home, which he shares with his brother, and his brother's girlfriend for robbery. His Brother and Girlfriend are friends of mine, I hate that he put them in jeopardy of anything due to is behavior Actually he used to drive home drunk all the time. There were nights we would get into screaming fights before he passed out an I would take his keys to make sure he was parked legally and that he hadn't hit anything.

Anyway I fucking hate drunk drivers I refuse to let people drive drunk if I can help it...I throw Gab in my town car, and I get in her car, so I can follower her and my driver up to Northgate. We stop at the bank because she had told my driver she was going to pay for my trip up and back. She was so drunk she couldn't use the atm. (my palm meets my forehead at this moment) She gets in the car with to give directions to get her home. We are driving along. She starts crying saying how much it means to her that I did this, that she is totally going to pay me back.  She starts talking about her family and can't finish a sentence. She just keeps crying, we almost miss her street. I was so glad to pull into her drive way knowing she got home safe. She was in absolutely no shape to drive.

Honestly I would rathe lose an hour of sleep then know that I let someone get behind the wheel, and have a greater chance of killing themselves or someone else. It's never worth it. A $20-$50-$100 cab ride is so much cheaper than...a funeral, lawyer, hospital, insurance increase, new car, or most importantly the fucking guilt that goes with ruining your life and someone who was probably trying to get home.

On a lighter note...
I jump in my town car to head home. My driver is actually a really good friend of mine, like we hang out sometimes, when I have extra time which is not very often. Anyway we start heading back to the city. I thank him for driving because he was suppose to head down to Georgetown. We are gabbing as we go about Gab and he is telling me that the entire way she would not shut up. How she kept talking about how hot I was how I had such great boobs, how I dance super seductively, how I am basically the shit. She also said to M that I'm super hot and I don't know it. I don't know how to finish this story without sounding totally conceited...so I guess I will just tell it like it happened. By this time we are parked in front of my place. I say to M that she was drunk but that it was a really nice thing to say. He turns and looks at me and says "Red, it's totally true, you have no fucking idea what you look like, and thank god because you would be horrible otherwise" he went on to say that really beautiful women are a huge disappointment because they have horrible personalities and are typically not that nice. He said he appreciated that I don't use my powers for evil. Anyway it was a nice way to end my night.

This isn't the first time someone has said something like this to me. One of my best girlfriends has a saying "If one person tells you, you have a tell, you should tell them to fuck off. If 20 people tell you, that you have a tail, it's time to turn around and check". I'm not sure how to check that so I suppose I'll just continue to reply with thank you and keep being myself.

Sunday, January 27, 2013

One Night stands...

I think you should come home with me.
Why?
Because you are beautiful.
Yeah so...
I'm only in town for a couple of days. I'll give you $1,000 to come back to my hotel room.
Even if I did I don't think you would like the things I do, because frankly I'm not going to have sex with you.
Why not, I'm only here for a couple of days.
...*sigh*...
Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don't want a one night stand? What if I'm looking for someone to be with, what if I'm looking for actual love. You think just because of this job I'm incredibly promiscuous and have any real feelings for anyone. What if I actually like you and don't want you to leave?
Customer walks away.
Obviously it's because I don't fuck for money, and he was really not my type. I suppose I could have put my hand up and said "In some time" and had my point projected the same. Although I wouldn't have been able to play "Overly Attached Girlfriend" For those of you that are not familiar with overly attached girlfriend. I suggest you google, bing, yahoo, ask, blekko, or excite your way to it.


Monday, January 21, 2013

So what you are telling me is that I can't fly off the handle?

Last night I had to work with my least favorite manager again...
I really am trying to just stay out of the way. I really don't like him. Anyway...
Again he screwed me out of some money. He claimed that I had done two, three for forties.( For anyone who is not familiar a three for forty is a dance special we run a few times a night, it's three songs for forty dollars. I hate them, not only am I giving a discount dance the house collects an extra $10 from me for each one I happen to do. So really it's $30. It never fails some fucking douchnozzle always wants extras during this time. First off I don't do extras, secondly fuck you, I don't ask you for free shit...fucktard.) Which is a bold faced lie, especially if you look at the time in which the 2nd was punched into the computer, which happened to be right smack dab in the middle of me dancing for someone else, in which no dance specials were taking place. (Mind you I don't mind paying for things that I actually owe on) I told him he was wrong, and he just looked at me and said "you know we go back there and check" basically calling me a liar. Let me just say...I don't lie. I don't have a reason to, and I know they go back and check I've been doing this long enough. He starts to babble on about how I'm wrong, I lose my temper and tell him to shut-up (which I shouldn't have done, but my patience was wearing so thin with each syllable he uttered. He of course said "Don't tell me to shut-up" I then said "Fine, you know what, I'm sorry that was rude, hand me back what I just gave you and I'll recount to make sure you don't have any small bills" I handed him the amount he asked for, and he didn't say thank you. I FUCKING HATE THAT! There is no reason not to say thank you. I thank everyone that tips me on stage or buys a dance from me, even if it's just one. A sincere Thank You for 1. Coming in to work. 2. Always paying out. 3. Not causing drama with other girls. 4. BEING THE GOD DAMN CHEERLEADER! I pay his paycheck, without me/us he doesn't get paid and vice versa, but he doesn't need to be a dick.
I left fuming, literally shaking I was so mad. I dislike him so much I almost could't sleep last night. Mind you my dog is still not feeling well so I would like to get in sleep where I can, knowing full well I need to wake up every few hours and clean up her liquid poop...TMI?

I wake up this morning, still upset. I start considering my options.
1. Talk to the person that does dancer relations and bitch about how much he sucks.
2. Move clubs.
3. Change my schedule, which would suck because right now it's pretty ideal when it comes to school.
4. Scream my fucking head off at the slim ball every single time I work? Sounds fun but a little exhausting.
5. Ask our GM for his number so I can set up a meeting. DING DING DING.

So even though I'm a stripper and I would love more than anything to freak right the fuck out everyday on him. It seems best to go through the proper channels, so I don't come off as a crazy fucking bitch. Why? because I like my job. I like my girls, I like the other managers. Mostly because they don't come off as slimy and are willing to work with you and for you if you need something. They don't hang out in the dressing room, they don't walk around acting like slappy the clown. Most of all they don't fuck with my money.
So I have set up a meeting with him. In which we are going to talk about "How to work better together". Honestly if things don't improve I'm moving clubs, that says a lot about this person because I put up with a lot of shit, something about him just makes me want to stab myself.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Are they real...

I would like to preface with I came home to a very sick puppy tonight. She has been feeling poopy literally. I'm sure you all wanted to know that I am in fact human and my dog gets sick. Therefore I am up on the poop patrol. Which leads me to my actual post.

Followed by some dickfucker threw pennies at one of my girls on stage. Kiddo, if I ever see you, you had best run, and it had better be fast.

There are a few questions I am frequently asked, or statements that bug me, so I have questions about them.

Gentlemen, why in the fuck, would you hold up your hand in my face and say "in some time"? Is this a language barrier? Do we need to address a greater world issue? Like how to speak to women who are in their underwear?

Why do you ask me to come back later if you don't want a dance? Just say no. Did you have to go though D.A.R.E. didn't they teach you about saying no to peer pressure.

Why when you do turn me down and you say "I don't want to waste your time" does it then take you 4 times as long to spit out whatever you were going to say.

I understand the appeal of seeing me on stage, but are you really going to wait around for 2 hours in hopes of me going up?

Also yes I am aware that you can't drink in strip clubs in Seattle. I'm sorry to say your speech about how annoyed you are is not charming or funny, in fact I've heard it a few times...Guess what? I currently cannot change that for you, but I can get my body all up in your bubble to make you forget about it.

"Are they real?"
Duh of course my eyes are real, do you want to touch them.

Also it is customary to say "hello" to someone after they have said hello to you, to your face. You shouldn't ignore them.

On that note I'm sleepy.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

back end...

I check the stats on my blog every now and again to see whats hot besides me. I really want to know who the heck is googling "licking a strippers asshole" everyday. Can you message me and tell me why? Maybe that post was memorable and it's just something you want to read. Mind you I don't want you to quit reading my blog I just think it's hilarious. In other news I am still (from a few months ago) thinking about getting a new computer. It occurred to me today as I was lugging this brick, a couple of note books, and a text book, up a few flights of stairs, whilst throwing down on a heavy lean to my left, to compensate for the weight on my right, that I absolutely fucking hate carrying this shit around. That I just might need to consider a macbook air.

This quarter has been odd, interesting, so far. I finally managed to weasel my way into my classes and for the first time in a long time I have actually intentionally been wearing make-up to school, sometimes it's unintentional since it's still on from the night before. This quarter it's like I finally have the whole "Get ready to look like a normal living person" thing down." I have even quit wearing my flannels out of habit unless I'm working the whole grunge thing... Ahem WHOA! I'm blending like a normal person. Now if I could only find the appropriate bag. I constantly change bags for school. I seriously cannot find the holy grail of bags.

What does all this have to do with my job?

For once I am not stressing about work, school, and the balance that goes in-between, it's like it's all sort of working. Why? because for once in my whole life I am not over extending myself. I'm applying the whole hermit idea. I'm just sort of going through my day at the moment getting back into the groove before I add on extras like running with friends, lunches, dinners, drinks, late night chats, shopping for friends, anything that I really do is being put off to the side for the moment, except one thing. I've gone back to reading before bed. Not anything good and informative that I need to think about but dumb like so dumb the book I'm reading is "The Hipster Handbook".

I really hope I can keep this up for the remainder of the quarter.

Monday, January 7, 2013

Do I look like I break easy? The answer is no, if there was a question.

I'm suppose to be asleep right now, but I'm a little wound up from my interaction with my manager at work. 
We were having a discussion that went a little something like this. 

Manager: Blah, blah, blah, plus ten.
Me: What is the plus ten for? 
Manager: It goes towards house.
Me: Yeah, and so does the other money I'm about to pay you.
Manager: That's how they (upper management) trained me.
Me: I could just refuse pay if you want to be like that.
Manager: Yeah, and you could not work here anymore.
Me: I haven't refuse payed the entire time I've worked here.
Manager: That's a pretty good record. 
Me: It is and I would hate to refuse pay on all of your shifts.
Manager: Ok, pay blah, blah, blah...
Me: How about you suck my asshole till that amount comes out.
Manager: Wow, I don't do that.
Me: Yeah and any change I swallowed as a child has probably passed, so you might be there for a while. 
Mangaer: I put clay in my ears as a kid, did you?
Me: Do I look like an idot?
Manager: I was a kid.
Me: Again, do I look like an idiot.
Manager: I'm going to bring clay next time I work.
Me: Why?
Manager: So I can put it in your ears, how does that sound.
Me: Sounds like a lawsuit if I've ever heard one. So how much do I owe you again.
Manager: How about blah +5 
Me: Fine but now I have to go back to my locker and get the five so you need to wait.
*****Intermission***** better make sure you didn't leave something on the stove.

Me: You know I'm not completely unreasonable right?
Manager: Why would you say that?
Me: I just wanted to make sure we were not ending tonight on a bad note.
Manager: I might just go home and cry.
Me: Wouldn't be the first time.
Manager: Oh, you think you have that kind of power
Me: In my head (Fucker, duh!) I just might you never know.
Manager: I have thick skin.
Me: Your going to need it.
Manager: Don't worry I'll change you.
Me: Really? I fucking doubt that. I don't  fucking break.
Manager: You will.
Me: Sweetheart there happen to be a whole bunch of us, and only one of you. Good Luck.
Manager: I will you'll see.
Me: That's what they all say...shit apparently we gave one a heart attack. Have a nice night.

This is not the first time someone said they could break me this weekend. It is however the first time I've lost my temper in a while. I don't paticularly like my finances fucked with during the slow season. Also apparently no one warned about my damn temper and how fucking vicious I can actually be. Considering that I'm not drunk, or high, or stupid, I'm not falling for his hustle, such a bad idea, messing with me I'm not horribly slow with my lines or my insults anymore. FUCK I hate leaving work in a bad mood especially after I had a really fun night with my girls.
Now I'm especially mad that I'm not going to be as rested as I would like for class tomorrow. 
That was the other thing. I said I wanted to leave and he called me a quitter. I have a relatively early class you little shit stain, and I've been here since 6pm. I also have a ton of shit to do tomorrow so it's not like I can sleep all fucking day. I mean I might catch a nap on campus and risk looking homeless. So where exactly is my quitting spirit in that. 
Sometimes people are complete idiots.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Gender Bender

The locker room is probably the most interesting place in the strip club not because we are having pillow fights, and eating bon bons. It's were we have our best conversations and our bloodiest fights.
More on the fight later.

This weekend a few of us were giving advice to a new stripper on dating. She is so new it's sort of funny. By funny I mean when she talks I want to squish her head since she is either adorable or annoying the shit out of me. Anyway the general consensus from most of us is...Never ever say how much money you make or don't make, and don't ever pay for everything, split things of course but don't just outright pay for everything.

All of us have done it at some point which of course is why we advise against it. Which brings me to the real point of this post...How did we get to this point? This point in history where we are so independent that we play both parts of the man and the woman? We buy our own gifts and those of our lovers. We are so "girl power" we forget that we don't always have to pick up the check, because it has been so engrained in us that we must prove ourselves, not just because of our gender, but because of our job.

So...Where have all the good ones gone?