Lazy

I was supposed to work tonight, but that's not gonna happen. There's always tomorrow for naked debauchery!

I did work on Saturday, and I feel disappointed and pleased about the outcome. I did make over $500. Which is good. I could have made more. Which is bad. For some reason the stars were aligned just right as to make everyone want to spend some time in VIP with me. Unfortunately, they were also aligned in the same manner for the other girls working, resulting in an obnoxiously long waiting list. We're talking hours here.

Luckily I did my first VIP (an hour) early in the night before the gates were stormed. The guy kept asking me the raunchiest questions, and I gave him appropriately raunchy (and completely fabricated) answers. It was all easy enough.

I had at least two other VIP requests, neither which materialized due to the damned list. Both guys got sick of waiting (understandably) and left. I was able to drain a little money from them in the mean time.

Saturdays are probably my favorite day to work, because the club is packed. Less bullshitting, more dancing. While I am an expert bullshitter, it does drain me, even more so than cavorting around in 5 inch heels all night.

Today I deposited my week's earnings in my checking account. Handing the teller a stack of 20s, with some 100s thrown in for good measure, is always fun. Behind their friendly veneer, you know they're thinking 'oh, so she's a little whore', or 'maybe it's time I start thinking about getting a second job'.

There's probably a sad little indian man at the club right now wondering where his sweet little stripper is, as I told him I'd be in tonight. We were supposed to do a VIP and (I just love this) discuss a future lunch date. Obviously this lunch date would never happen, as I'd rather sit in my apartment and listen to my roommate's insufferable bird screech, than hang out with this sad little man.

I don't understand guys who go to a strip club to look for dates. Really? It's a strip club, not a fucking girlfriend store.

To my loving customers: YOU DO NOT WANT TO DATE ME. I AM NOT WHAT YOU THINK I AM. EVERY SOUND WAVE THAT LEAVES MY MOUTH AND ENTERS YOUR EARS IS A LIE. YOU ARE NOT HANDSOME, I DONT LIKE HAVING SEX 30 TIMES A DAY, YOUR COLLECTION OF ANTIQUE STAMPS IS NOT, I REPEAT, NOT INTERESTING. PLEASE JUST LOOK AT MY BOOBS AND MAKE CRUDE COMMENTS. THAT IS ALL.