I was thinking it might be funny to write about some of the losers that come to the club with the assumption that us strippers are always as dumb as they are or that we are going to buy into their game.
Now to be fair, many men that come in think I am stupid, because I, well, because I ACT stupid, which is actually a really smart thing to do to a guy whose money you want in exchange for doing things to tantalize and provoke him. I know it's bad, but yeah, hey I'm a naughty nurse, and you all knew that.
I gotta tell ya'll about this guy whose name was Albierto or something like that who came in. Spanish, dark hair slicked with probably a whole tube of really cheap gel, a guidoish mustache, dark skin, actually his eyes were a pretty nice green, but everybody has some redeeming quality, albeit not enough. And can you say BLING BLING??? Diamonds, heavy chains, all over a football jersey. Heavy on the aftershave, you know the type.
I got off my second set of dances on the mainstage for the night and was heading towards the dressing room to refresh my lipstick and powder my nose when he approached me.
In his thick Puerto Rican accent he told me matter of factly that I am the prettiest girl in the club, (I always take this with a grain of salt, but with this guy I took the salt shaker).

"I want to go in the champagne room with you, but first I'd like to get to know you better, come have a drink"
Thinking about the fast money for a champagne room, I quickly had forgotten that my makeup needed a humongous touch up, but who cared? Not this guy. Not this strange bird with the bling.
Aribierto's way of getting to know me was by telling me all about himself. On his long list of attributes he was a chef, a strip club owner (so he knew all about the business), and a number cruncher. He told me how rich he was, which didn't surprise me because guys like this apparently need to overcompensate. As far as the number crunching goes, when I asked him a simple math question, I had him pretty flustered, so I didn't pursue that path. Instead, I whispered in his ear, "I am so hot and ready to be alone with you right now."
About ten minutes after Aribierto continued "to get to know me some more," we got into a room. He paid on credit card, which by that time I was pretty sure he had stolen.
In the room, I proceeded to do my usual, took my clothes off, sat on his lap, and moved up and down on him in a motion that suggested S-E-X. All of a sudden, I felt like I was being attacked by a humongous pitbull with the slobberiest tongue in all of Christendom. Can you say icky, slobbering my neck quickly moving to my chest.
I jumped off Aribierto's lap. "Excuse me," I bellowed as loudly as I could manage, "You need to STOP. YOU PAID FOR MY COMPANY. YOU PAID FOR YOUR DANCES" I had no intention of feeling more slobber and was dreading the next 25 minutes or so that we were going to have to complete. He lunged at me, and fumbled to open his pants. OH no way!!!!
"You got to stop that. You have to keep that in your pants!"
"I want to fuck," he absentmindedly requested.
"No we can't," I explained "I am going to give you some private dances and that is it." I could not wait to get out of the room, I was feeling sickly drunk and heady from the smell of the pungent cologne. I felt like I was stuck in a tiny cubicle with Pepe Le Pew.
"Give me a blowjob," he demanded. "I gave you $300."
Up front, you moron, I thought.
I explained to him that giving him a blowjob would be prostitution and it was illegal. Assuming that I was not too bright, he asked me, "Who told you that?"
Yeah let's go that route.
"You know it's illegal," I said to him, feigning shock and displaying my apparent disgust, "You own a strip club remember."
Aribierto unknowingly relented, but was really pissed. I couldn't care less when he threatened to leave the room, I was hoping for it.
"You ripped me off, you bitch!"
You asked for it.
He reached for his zipper again, I guess Aribierto Jr. would not give up so easily, but I did.
"That's illegal, " I said, "You stay away from me."
I walked out that door. Needless to say, I never saw Aribierto again.
Copyright June 2006