Like a lollipop

Well, things are back to how they're supposed to be, I guess.

I'm back at the club. I'm back to heavy drinking (I was completely sober for a month a few months back and had been drinking only lightly since then). I'm hanging out with L again. I'm single. School starts back tomorrow. I guess this is just my place in the world.

I only worked Wednesday and Saturday last week. Wednesday was forgettable. As in I really can't remember anything that happened or what went on. I wasn't drunk or anything, it was just that blah.

Last night was more 'exciting'. Not in a good way. Well, I made $700, so I'm not completely miserable, but it was just one of those nights.

The first thing that set me off was when a customer accidentally broke one of my nails. My nails have been ridiculously awesome lately, no short stubby ones, always painted and looking sweet. I'm obsessed with nails and nail polish, not sure if that's been mentioned. Anyways, luckily the break wasn't too bad, nothing below the tip of my finger, but it's gonna take at least a month to grow back out. The guy who broke it did do an hour vip with me, so at least some of the $400 he gave me will go to getting an acrylic put on.

Then a customer of mine who I hadn't seen in a while came and tipped me on stage. He's the guy who used to live in the apartment complex that I also lived in. The one who was creepily staring at my friend and I when we went to the pool. Anyways, I go over to his table, and there's already a girl there, but he wants me to stay. She's new, and really pretty. I'm pretty lit at this point, and we convince him to take us to vip. He's the one who strips down to his boxers, (which is a bit weird, but he doesn't try anything gross, and the bouncers know about it so whatever).

We get back there, and the girl immediately asks me if I party. I hesitate to answer (mostly because I don't want me customers who don't do coke to think I'm a coke head or anything). I tell her that I don't mind if she does, and figure I'll get a line in while he's not paying attention or something. I haven't touched coke for probably a year, so I have to admit I was excited to do some. "Wow, my night is getting better" I start to think to myself.

Of course that's a cue for things to get weird. The girl starts being very friendly to my customer, and then out of nowhere takes his penis out of his boxers and starts stroking it. I can tell my customer is a little confused, as it was completely unprovoked, but just shrugs his shoulders as she does her thing. At this point I'm trying not to watch (this is where I decide to sneak my line in). Well, I make the mistake of taking a look, and now the girl is licking my customer's penis. WHAT THE FUCK? I want to scream at her, and maybe I should have. I don't know. At this point it all goes downhill. They start making out, he's fingering her, she's confusing his dick for a lollipop...you know.

I decide that our time is up, and go ask the floor man if this is the case. Then I whine to him about the girl, to which he responds 'I had my suspicions, but you just confirmed them.' Well gee thanks for letting me go to vip with a fucking prostitute (I have nothing against prostitution, but keep it out of my club). So I continue to drink and complain to everyone for the rest of the night, and just get a cab home. Gah.

In other disappointing news, I finally got the full story from the Mexican about how he's a cheating piece of shit. Suffice to say I'm done communicating with him in any way, shape or form. If nothing exciting happens this week at work (and I pray that's the case), maybe I'll talk a bit about why men are disgusting excuses for human beings, specifically the Mexican.

I'm going to Virginia this weekend to visit a friend, and then to New Orleans with L next weekend. Yay!

Rewind

So I'm back at my club. I was for a bit about two months ago, then one particularly terrible saturday night I had somewhat of a mental breakdown and 'quit'.

Well, we all know what quitting means to me...so I'm back. I actually intended to go to another club, but as usual got cold feet.

I've worked two nights so far; saturday and wednesday. Both were decent, and I think the break did me well. I was able to make an acceptable amount of money and blow way under a .08 both nights.

On Saturday I had a regular come in, and he did and hour. That's where the bulk of my money came from. He's a great regular. He doesn't bother me to meet outside of work and try and date me. He understands how things work; he pays me money and I pretend to be interested in his unremarkable middle-aged life. It's great.

Old asian man was in as well. As well as a girl who used to work there years ago...she was one of the 'pretty girls', and I was really happy to see her. Asian man had us dance on the table together and money was made. She asked me if I was married or had any kids. I shrugged my shoulders and replied "no". She had another kid while she was in New York, where she lived during her absence. Part of me is jealous, and part of me wants nothing to do with any such thing. I don't know.

Wednesday was ok. Had a vip with another girl and a guy who liked coke. I had him as a customer a while back. He tipped me on stage, and I vaguely remembered him, but didn't want to mention it because I  figured he wouldn't remember me. Well, he did. And I guess we partied a bit last time we went to vip. So we get up there, and while the other girl was in the restroom, he asks me if I will partake in some cocaine usage with him. I tell him I will (hey, it's been a while). Then he asks me if I can get some. WTF?!? Uh, you don't go the vip acting like you're about to do a bunch of coke if you don't even have it on you. I tell him that I can but I'll need some extra incentive. None of the drug dealers that I'm acquainted with are in that night, so I make a big production of going to 'find some', and by the time I get back our vip is over. Score!

Well, back to the same old grind.

From Mexico to France

So work has been decent yet uneventful lately. Pretty even money, especially being summer and all.
I am glad to see that most of my regulars still frequent the club, reliable money is always nice!
I really want some new outfits, but I have such a difficult time deciding on which ones to get.

I went out on a 'date' with a French guy that is here for PhD work last night. The reason date is in quotes is that I really didn't want it to be a date, but I'm pretty sure that's how he saw it. Oh well. Saw the dictator and was disappointed. Definitely nowhere near as great as Borat, the greatest movie of all time. We ended up making out-so much for the whole not a date thing.

I guess when I got home I had the urge to call the Mexican, so I did. He didn't answer, but when I woke up this morning I had 203943 missed calls and voice mails from him. I think it's the most he's ever called me before. The reason I woke up is that I heard someone banging on my window. The Mexican.

"Just checking to make sure you're alright."

"Uh, yeah...sorry I called you last night, I was drunk."

Then we conversed a bit. It was mostly him asking about work. Even when we're not dating he can't seem to handle it.

Anyways, it was weird. We hadn't talked in 2 weeks, and I only called him once. Great that he's more concerned with my well-being when we're not dating than when we were.

The Ex invited me to a movie the other night, but I was working. Definitely not interested in starting anything up with him again. Ever.

Well, here's to hoping Wednesday night is a rich one.

The past week has been quite chaotic. In a good way, really. Well, sort of.

The Mexican and I are no longer together. I found out the other day that he most likely cheated on me. With an acquaintance/friend. It gets even better. This girl, my roommate and me went out to a trendy Mexican restaurant the other night. My roommate and I wanted to go out afterwards and we invited the girl, but she claimed she needed to get home to do some homework.

Well, I found out the next day that she went and hung out with the Mexican. She left the restaurant to go hang out with a man she knew was my boyfriend. Absolutely ridiculous. I guess the Mexican forgets that his roommate is dating my roommate, so pretty much anything he does gets back to me.

I confronted the Mexican when I found out (though to be honest, our relationship was pretty much over at this point anyway), and of course he claims they're just friends and coworkers, and they just went to a bar with his neighbors and smoked some weed. I don't buy it.

Anyways, of course when I went to confront the Mexican last night after work (at the club), we ended up having sex, which was a stupid decision, but in all honesty I don't have any sort of actual feelings for him anymore, so I don't think it's a huge deal.

I also worked on Saturday, and made $900. Nothing too interesting happened at work, but afterwards I went with some other girls to a greek restaurant with the owners and a bunch of their friends. We had a few more drinks, some awesome food, and broke a bunch of plates while yelling "OPA!". I started to feel bad about all the plate breaking, so I took a few of the unbroken plates home with me. They're perfectly good plates!

On Sunday I left to go stay a night in a cabin with The Ex and two other people we used to hang out with. I told him beforehand that there would be absolutely no sex, and there wasn't. Not for his lack of trying, but I'm honestly not attracted to him one bit anymore. It's weird because 2 or 3 years ago I would have sworn that my life would never be the same without him, and I'd never stop being in love with him. I guess time really does heal all.

Work last night was pretty good for me, even though it was an exceptionally slow night. I got two super easy vips, and little asian man was in.

Having tons of excess cash is great. I missed it so much. I went and got new tires on my car today! It's nice being able to do that and not worry about the money.

Sneaky

So my roommate was out of town last week. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but my roommate is dating the Mexican's roommate. This makes things difficult for a number of reasons, but mainly because everyone in our little circle knows everything. If I'm gone for the night, my roommate knows. This means her boyfriend knows. Which means his roommate, the Mexican, knows. This can be a problem when it comes to keeping secrets.

So anyways. I took her absence last week to my advantage and decided to work a night at the club. Even though I had told the Mexican I had quit (and I did- for 5.5 months), I needed money. While some people may frown on this violation of trust, I have to say that the relationship between the Mexican and myself is rocky at best. Honestly, as of now, I'm not sure there is even enough of a relationship to salvage.

So I worked. And it was almost like I had never left. I mean yeah, girls have left and decor has changed, but I couldn't have honestly told the difference between the other night and a night 6 months ago. Well, except for the fact that my tolerance has gone down.

Part of me feels bad about failing. Failing to 'stay off the pole', as they say...but things are different now. I do have two other legitimate jobs. Jobs that I can put on a resume and get referrals from. I have four classes left 'til graduation-the end is in sight. I don't feel as trapped as I used to. And the money is still great.

Lastly, I have been having correspondence with the Ex. Not that I would ever ride that train again, trust me, I'm completely over that...but he always pops up at the most interesting of times.

I'm probably going to be blogging somewhat regularly again, as I plan to work this Friday and Saturday, as well as some of next week.

I don't know

I'm restless.

I talk to my stripper friends on the phone and I miss it.

 I long for the $800 nights.

I want to be able to get new tires, an oil change, groceries, and some new clothes after a night of work.

Things between the Mexican and I aren't going so well. I mean, there's nothing obviously wrong...but I'm bored.

I've just finished up school for the spring semester. I'm 'free' 'til fall.

I want to make money. Enough to pay for fall semester. Enough to go out and spend without feeling guilty.

I do have a job. A few jobs, actually. But the money isn't the same. I can work 40 hours a week and make 1/3 of what I make working 20 hours a week.

I don't know.

Part of me doesn't want to fail. Doesn't want to crawl back into the club like I couldn't hack it anywhere else. I mean, that's what everyone else does-but I don't want to be that.

 I don't know :(

missing it

So I quit stripping 3 months ago. Haven't been back to the club, not even once, since. Why did I quit? A few reasons:

1)Burn-out. It's very real, and in this industry it doesn't take too long to kick in. Making it in each night was a chore. There was no excitement. As soon as I got to work I went straight to the bar. Straight to my double stoli shot. Straight to another, and another and another...

2) The Mexican. Never quit for a guy. That's what all the seasoned strippers will tell you. They probably know because they've done it. And based on their advice, I'm guessing it didn't work out. Well, the mexican finally gave me an ultimatum: 'your job or me'. Ugh. I guess I really liked him. I do really like him-but our relationship is not a healthy one. More on that later.

3)school. So I'm back in real person school. I acutally only have one more semester (4 classes) 'til I graduate. When I try to do the work and school thing, my schooling suffers. I'm tired, I'm hungover, and mostly I'm more concerned about making money than doing well in school. I felt like if I could just make it through my last few classes and get a real job, I could leave the club behind forever.

So now onto the missing it part. I miss it. I think about it every day. The money, the feeling of being adored, even if just for your body, the spontaniety. Mostly the money, though.

My personality has suffered. I'm moodier. I cry more. I cry a fucking lot. I never used to cry. I thought my relationship with the mexican would get better after I quit. it didn't. Instead of fighting about my work, we just fight about other stupid shit. I just feel like this crazy, moody, psycho girl, and I'm not used to it.

I keep thinking I could just go back for a few days a month. Just enough to cover bills. So I don't have to keep dipping into savings. My scholarship ran out this semester, so I'm going to have to pay for my last semester in full.

It's not as easy as just going back. My pride would be hurt. My mom will be disappointed. I feel like as soon as I walk back into the club everyone will judge me. 'Oh, she couldn't do it. She couldn't quit for good.' "They always come back"-that's what we always would say when girls would quit. I guess it's true.