Monday, July 22, 2013

What is wrong with me?

I'm just now getting around to writing about Saturday night.  I got some explaining to do.

Bad stripper, bad blogger, right here, ladies and gentlemen.  Let me tell you why.

On Saturday night, I showed up late.  Unbelievably late, like I missed half my shift being a fat, lazy fuck.  My roommate is a bad influence.  We got a deep fryer.  I'm from the south.  I HAD to have some fish fry and REAL onion rings before work and it took a lot longer to do than I expected.

So coming in late, that was mistake number one.  Since I had a tummy full of deep fried guilt, I refrained from having my usual Red Bull because I was afraid that would cause an upset stomach.  Red Bull already gives me an upset stomach by itself.  But with nothing to jack me up, I got really bored really quickly with the people in my club.

The crowd was about half of what it should be for a Saturday night, and the guys that were there were a bunch of non-spending "regulars" that I hate seeing.  They don't even deserve the name "regulars" in my opinion.  They are just returning trolls.  Completely useless if they're not spending on me or my co-workers.

One of them is a younger, decent looking dude (still a loser) so I picked him to bitch at, because I was getting bored trying to hustle.  So I talked shit with him for about a song, unloading my negativity on him about this other guy who gives the world's shittiest back massage and wasted a lot of my time when I tried to hustle him.  Then I realized what I was doing wasn't going to make me any money, so I figured I'd just take my break early, after only being there for about an hour.

I asked if I could go on break, and I usually pay my house fee when I do this so that I don't rip them off in case I don't come back.  Very rarely do I actually stay home.  But this time I did.  And I didn't pay my house.  Another stripper mistake.  Bad stripper!

So I did not make use of a potentially good Satruday because I was being a lazy, bad stripper.  I should have went back to work instead of passing out on my couch.  I should have pushed through my tired, burned-out attitude, and I should have drank that stupid Red Bull.

I get a D for performance.  I would have given myself an F if I didn't make what I did during that hour I was there.  I could have done a lot better, but I didn't, all because of my "fuck this shit" attitude.

I remember taking a math class back in college.  The professor said the way to be successful in his class was to attend class and office hours, do the assignments, and have a good attitude.

I underlined that because it's probably the most important suggestion.  I saw a lot of people fail even though they had the brains and the time to learn the material, but they hated math, so they still got bad grades.

And I'm going on vacation next week.  To escape more strip club hell, to repair my soul, and to empty my wallet.  I doubt I'm gonna go in during the week to make some spending cash because it's the summer and I don't like being in a club swimming with sharks with nothing but shrimp to feast on.  I still have time to shake my "fuck it" attitude, so I might work the few days before I leave because reality will eventually hit me.  It always does.