Saturday, January 8, 2011

Wow... it was obviously my first night back.

Financially, tonight... I get an F. 


You stupid fuck, a monkey can make more money than you doing this shit.  

I'm hard on myself.  I didn't do THAT bad.  But I would be homeless if I kept making the same money I made tonight. 

But it was my first night back.  Wahh.  It was hoppin' when I first came in slightly before 8, but then it died down very quickly. 

Since it was my first night back, all the bar staff was incredibly happy to see me again.  They all were like, "Oh my GOD!  Where've you been?  I missed you."  The DJ is hawt.  He is the definition of temptation.  But we both know he doesn't want anything serious, and I think I would want more than what I know I would get if I fucked him.  I feel it's better that way because I am afraid the results of it will not be what I want.  But I just enjoy teasing the hell out of him.  I will have to admit it's pretty fucking great waving it in front of his face when he can't get it!

Fuck I'm mean.  Anyway...

As we hug he also says into my shoulder, "Ohghghghhh," then he looks up and me and says, "I am so glad to see you again."

So after I'm dressed up, I head out into the "pit."  Basically it's the inside of the club.  Anywhere I can run into a guy that is a potential customer is what I like to call the pit.  Before I even get to the bar, a customer sees my ass and wants me to turn around and talk to him.

I'm already thinking, "Wow, that was quick.  Already?"  I turn around and I see this ugly ass perv in his late 40s, maybe even early 50s.  He stinks of booze and he grabs my ass and tries to kiss me. 

Gross!  Get away from me!

I move my cheek in the way to dodge his filthy lips.  Then he pecks my cheek and I'm still thinking -

Ugh, disgusting.

As I tried to sell a lap dance to him, he kept trying to see if I'll be "extra nice" to him in the private room.  I kept being as ambiguous as can be and said, "I never admit the naughty things I do back there, hehe," and I winked. 

I just kept trying to dodge saying I would do it because he knew deep down I would bust his balls since I guess I didn't act the way actual hookers do.  I don't look that stupid and sometimes that backfires at work.  Maybe I should just name a fast price and act like a skank.  Then go to the back room, and as soon as he whips it out I book it or scream. 

Luckily I got called to stage pretty quick so I could get the hell away from him.  I got up on the pole and started dancing like I was dancing in November.  I didn't realize how out of shape I am!  I was so pooped by the end of the first song I had to pretend to dance while I was on my knees shaking my ass with my face down during the next song.  What no one should have seen was my hair curtaining my exhausted face.

Exhaustion is not sexy. 

I made decent stage money that time because it wasn't quite dead yet.  But after that stage, the club was pretty empty.  I hate that I have to come in and work at 7 when the rush never hits until 11 or 12.

When I danced on stage while it was dead, I tried to keep working the pole but I think I spun around on that pole too fast and I got incredibly sick to my stomach very quickly and I started sweating.  I hate that feeling because it's hard to fight it back once I'm sweating.  Once I took a deep breath, I had to signal to the DJ something along the lines of,

"I think I'm gonna hurl!  Get me off this stage!"

I went to the bathroom but I didn't get sick, my stomach was just upset from not eating enough.  All I had before work for dinner was a Powerbar and some Baked Lay's potato chips.  I thought it would tie me over.  I had no appetite and I still don't. 

I left the bathroom to tell the manager my stomach is hindering my job performance and that I didn't know if I'd make it through the night.  It was still early and I hadn't been to work in four weeks and I was trying to get out early my first day back.  I knew he wasn't going to tell me to go home.

"Just get yourself some ginger ale and relax, honey," my manager said.  "Go sit down."

I ordered my ginger ale and sat alone at the bar.

As I was sipping from my soda, a customer I met on Thanksgiving showed up.  He's the one I had the intelligent conversation with.  Oh man, he is going to make me go broke if he keeps hanging out with me at the club.  He and I couldn't shut up!  We caught each other's wavelength and rode it all night.  He didn't leave until it was pretty much closing time. 

My biggest mistake, despite how much fun he and I had, was hanging out with him for so damn long.  I passed up a lot of business to talk to him.  I shouldn't have, but it was my first day back.  I didn't want to deal with any more perverts! 

Sadly I'm still using that excuse.  It's time to kick it back into hustle mode.