Friday, January 4, 2013

Worst night ever

Words can't express how terrible I feel right now.  But you're stuck with my words so here it goes:

Candyman was there.  I swear to god, every night he is at the club is a bad night.  And of course he was the first to tip me.  One dollar.

God dammit.

I'm so embarrassed.

I might as well have been tipped with change.

I could barely afford tip out, so I didn't tip out.  I have never failed paying tip out.  I fucking SUCK SO FUCKING BAD URGHGH I HATE THIS JOB!

I got only one guy to buy one dance.

All the shark bitches were working.  They certainly didn't make it easy for me.  It didn't help that barely any guys showed up.  I think between 2-3, only two guys walked in.  And the ones that came in late were terrible, or snatched up by another vulture chick.  Some girls made a lot of money tonight.  I wasn't one of them.

I even had on the sexiest lingerie I fucking own.  And I still couldn't get any attention from the guys with any money.  What is wrong with me?

A stupid monkey could make more money than I did.

I fucking suck at selling lap dances.

Such bullshit!

I cried like a bitch at the end of my shift.

I'm still crying.

I am so disappointed.

I've made more money when I was drunk.

I made "kill yourself" money.  I felt like killing myself on the way home.  But then I thought, "over ONE bad fucking night? You're better than that.  And mom would be crushed.  I can't do that to her."

I need to redeem myself and then some tomorrow.  But it seems like this job is only going to get tougher.  And I was so pumped to get back to work and make some money.  NOPE.  Not tonight.

I feel like a beat-up dog crawling into a corner with my tail between my legs.

I feel so worthless.  I looked like a god damn winner and I feel like I'm the farthest thing from a winner.  I hate coming home so disappointed.  I stayed up past my bedtime FOR THIS!?

Like an idiot, I'm not gonna find another line of work.  I'm just gonna show up tomorrow night.

Nights like this make me fucking hate this job so much.  I just want to cause horrible destruction to release all this rage I have.  I'm so stressed out, cranky as fuck.  I gotta stop writing because all I'm doing now is complaining.

But this is the harsh reality of a bad night of stripping.  It sucks big time.