How did I end up at a strip club with my brother you ask? I was enticed by dollar drinks and the possibility of seeing the infamous pregnant, toothless stripper. Hey, nothing like cheap vodka and an ugly chick to make me feel better about myself right?
We arrived at the club and were told we had to be members to get in. Seriously? Rich asked how you become a member. The bitchy door girl said you pay a fee, $1. Sweet. So my brother handed her $2 and we were ready to be members. The door girl informed us that the membership would not go into effect for 3 days. I looked around to see if any else noticed the ridiculousness of this whole thing. If a goddamn membership cost only a goddamn dollar was it really that serious that it would take 3 days to go into effect? What? Did she have to wait for the paperwork to go through? For us to be approved in the system? For them to laminate our membership cards? Something was said along the lines of "shut your pie hole, slut" and we got in.
As soon as we got there Rich bought me a drink and a dance. He thought this would be funny. I enjoyed the drink thoroughly, not the dance.
It was my turn to buy a round, an absolut and soda and a Jack and diet. Bartender told me it was $10. I paid her but was totally confused. I went to Rich, "Why the fuck was my round $10! I thought it was dollar drinks!" He asked what I got and I repeated, absolut and soda and Jack and diet. "Oh," Rich replied, "you got top shelf. It's only $1 well drinks." On what fucking planet is Absolut top shelf??!! I specifically ordered it because it wasn't top shelf! Welcome to Fayetteville.
Back to the strippers. I must say these girls were hotter than any of the strippers I've seen in NYC. I was impressed but I have a weird little system at strip clubs. It's kinda like buying shoes. I like to see all of them all before deciding who was my favorite and that's the only one I feel I should tip. You can't settle you know?
Later on in the night Rich asked me if I wanted to buy a tshirt. I said no thanks- I really don't need it. Rich always wants to buy me things and he insisted, "YOU WANT A TSHIRT." Ok ok. If you insist. Again he tricked me. A tshirt came with a private lap dance where this petite little girl took me to another room. My little private stripper was ok, I guess. Totally not my first choice. She was tiny and fit and couldn't have been older than 18. She tied her hair in two braids and wore an army print bikini bottom. I named her GI Fuckin Stripper. She began dancing which was a good dance I suppose. After about 3 minutes I was like ok, well, that was lovely but I really must be going now. But no, it must have been a very expensive tshirt because the dance went on for what felt like an eternity. I would have been more turned on had she just played with my hair for the 30 minutes. I was starting to get antsy, I looked around, watched other girls, yawned... While GI was bent over in front of me she said she liked my shoes. Er thanks, I said, I er, like your belly ring. Very sparkly. She did some kind of move where her stomach rubbed against my thigh. She said, "I had 3 kids, you know?" Shut the fuck up, I answered. Boy I really need to go to the gym, I said. She agreed.
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