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Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Movin on Up

Belated Happy New Year my lovelies!
I deeply apologize for neglecting this blog once again. I had no stories to share since I took off for a few months to see what other options I had. 
I took an amazing trip for one week to Key West Florida with my family and I can't even describe how I feel just thinking about that trip. We danced with drag queens, got pissed face drunk with regulars at an awesome bar, and soaked up the sun in the speed boat.
And although i lost the best shifts at the club I would never take back the time I had on that beautiful island.
About one month prior to returning to work Hubs and I traveled to Virginia and Washinton DC. What a sight that was to see. I can definitely say it was a rejuvenating trip that saved my life.

You see, working night shifts is very difficult. You barely have a social life as I stated before. You are certainly not a normal person because normal people don't sleep when the sun is up and wake up at night. They just don't. If that is the case you are either hungover or a vampire like I was.
I won't lie to you and say that money was keeping me happy because I became depressed. I suppose it had something to do with never ever seeing the sun unless it was a split second before I laid my head down to sleep. 
As if that wasn't difficult enough I had major issues with some douche bag door man who tried fucking me for months but miserably failed. I didn't think it was possible for a thirty year old to act like a baby, but it most certainly is. He was a spiteful little boy who threw a temper tantrum because he has no life and didn't get what he wanted. He made my life a miserable hell.
So guess what I did to fix all of this? I quit.

For a brief period I started working with animals again. It reminded me why I left that profession in the first place. Overworked and underpaid.
I decided I would try three different strip clubs instead that would have me work a few night shifts so I can go back to school.
Club #1 was horrible. The money was poop and the girls were hood rats. One of them actually made fun of me and said "Bitch you need to put on sweats and put your hair in a bun. You are just a hostess and you are trying to take our money." NEXT
Club #2 was even more hood than the first. As soon as I walked in for my interview I noticed a huge metal detector above me. NEXT
Club #3 Running two registers at once and running around to different champagne rooms in six inch heels for $50 on a Saturday night???!! HELL NO. 
That's when I realized I was spoiled. Everything about my job made me a spoiled brat. The people, the money, the everything.
Long story short my GM called me for my job back and I accepted after the second time.
You're probably wondering why the fuck I would do that after I just bitched about being a depressed vampire and  being tortured by that 30 year old baby (which is a story in itself).
Here's why:
1. I am now a day girl. I benefit from this greatly.
- no scumbag interaction 
- I am no longer a snowman
- I can sleep at night! I'm like a regular person now!
- Hubby and I have the same schedule
- I now know what weekends off are like

2. Not only am I a door girl but.... Drum roll please... WATCH OUT FOR NEW STORIES FROM THE DRESSING ROOM! That's right peeps! I'm a house mom.

Leaving was probably the best thing I could have done. Really. 



Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Why?!

I've never understood why people walk in and then come back up to my desk asking for their money back because there aren't enough customers in the club. Sometimes they even ask before they come in, or call and ask if it's packed inside.

WHY?! Are you going to talk to those people? Are you going to walk up to them and introduce yourself? What's your deal?

People go to strip clubs to see a naked woman shaking her ass and motor boating your face with her boobs. Not to mingle with other customers.

That is all.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Bubble Butts & Lap Dances

So it's a Saturday night and I just got out of work. I wasn't really in the mood, but I promised Sandy I would go out. We ventured to some rich folk club and of course ended up at the strip club afterwards. Sandy ALWAYS wants to go to the strip club. I, on the other hand could care less.

Boobs and vaginas are quite boring to me. The only thing that amuses me at this particular club are the strippers with the gigantic fake asses. I swear there are fake asses everywhere. The bartenders and waitresses were even sporting them! I just had to stop and take a look at my butt when I walked in to make sure it wasn't THAT small. I was the minority.

Anyways, Sandy spots a stripper there and immediately hugs her. They are talking nonsense and failed relationships when finally I am introduced. Sandy thought it would be a good idea to get me my very first lap dance. Yes, ive worked at strip clubs and ive never gotten a lap dance.

I'd have to say I was proud of Sandy for her choice in women. She was a beautiful blonde with a natural butt. Thank the heavens, otherwise I would be running for the hills.

The stripper started grinding herself on me like she would a man and I couldn't help but laugh. She then told me to relax in her "sexy" voice and got down on her knees and started blowing on my area! This is what men get off on?! Fake humping and getting your genitals blown on with the hot air of a stranger's breath?

Sandy and I ended up doing $100 in songs but sat there talking to the stripper for most of the time. She told us her story, that she used to waitress and ended up dancing. She blatantly called herself a whore and said she fucks for money. I felt sort of sorry for her, but she obviously didn't feel too sorry for herself.

Though my first lap dance was quite entertaining, that will be my first and last. I've never really understood them anyways. What guy wants to pay $25 a song for blue balls? Apparently a ton of you..
Remember I mentioned ridiculous sayings on hats in a previous post? 
Here ya go! 

I opened our hat drawer last night to find this gem sitting on top! 

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

The Princess is Out!!!

I'm really upset with myself. Here's why: 

Last night near closing time I was getting my paperwork done. I had everything laid out on my table (a thousand loose papers) and from the corner of my eye I see some big old fat guy fighting to take off his t shirt. Where does this asshole decide to furiously slam his sweaty shirt? Right on top of my desk. On top of my neatly sorted paperwork. Papers flew everywhere. How did I react? 

I went ape shit. 

I cursed, threw and flailed my arms in the air. I even got in his friends face a little bit.

I radioed my door guy who of course, happened to be doing something else at the time and four of my guys quickly showed up. The rude disgusting man had already left. After about 20 minutes of cooling down I started to feel like an ass. People who do things to piss you off WANT a reaction out of you. And I gave it to him. BIG time. 

Working in this industry I'm well aware we come across rude, disrespectful, immature morons. Every single day. And although I can't stand it, it's my job to put up with these kind of people. 

I'd say (or at least like to believe) I've gotten so much better then when I first started working here.

One of my guys laughed and said "the princess is out!" (He called me this in the beginning when I would react insanely to things like this before).

What can I say? I have the little person temper.

I promise myself from this day forward not to act the way I did tonight and I promise not to jump over my desk and strangle someone, no matter how hard it may be.

I'll try my very hardest to keep Princess locked up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Nooooooo!!!

This may not be a topic many of you care about, but I'm sure the girls reading this can feel my pain. 

I'm seriously super upset. I'm upset because as I'm sitting in my wonderful car waiting for my husband to hurry the hell up with whatever he's doing, I just so happened to look down at my beautiful EXPENSIVE shoes and notice they are pretty damn ruined.

Ruined. Just looking at them is making me want to cry. I don't know why I decide to spend thousands (yes, thousands) on shoes and wear them to work. You might think that is a silly thing to say, but I'm far from joking when I tell you they manage to be ruined by the end of the month. Eh, maybe two. 

This has always been a complete mystery to me. I don't do anything at work. Well, I do work. But you get the point. I sit in a fucking chair all day! 
Is it the cigarette smoke slowly destroying them as I'm sitting there laughing with coworkers and customers having a good time? Is there a midget living underneath my chair slashing at my shoes without me feeling it? I don't know. Though this is something I'd rather not do I'm going to start buying $20 heels at the "Everything must go!" Stores. 

Problem solved.


This is similar to what they end up looking like: 


And this my EXACT facial expression when I finally realize: