Tales from the Boobie Bar!
A few nights ago, two guys came in and sat down by the bar. They would tip the dancers, yeah, but they'd keep trying to grab us-not cool.
I took a different approach with these two, and it worked quite well.
Me=Dancing is like dreaming with your feet!
GG1=Grabby Guy 1
GG2=Grabby Guy 2
Me=*dancedancesmilesmile* Hey there guys!
GG1=*starestare* Well, hello there beautiful! *takes out a dollar*
Me=*dances some more*
GG1=*suddenly tries to shove his head in my clevage o.O*
Me=*backs away, he misses* ...you okay there?
GG1=*reaches out his hands to try to grab my tits* Fine, but I'd be better if you'd let me hold those lovely-
Me=*blocks his hands* Sorry-no touching! *still polite*
GG1=*huffs, puffs, generally offended* Ugh! *throws the dollar in the air as if I'm the one being the asshole*
Me=*catches it deftly* Thank you :D
GG1=*mutterglare*
GG2=So you're saying we CAN'T touch you?
Me=Yep! *smilesmile*
GG2=*also huffs and puffs* WELL. WE have a LOT of money to give, I guess YOU won't be getting any of it.
Me=*grin* Fine by me :D
GG2=Hah, you act like you don't care.
Me=*sickeningly polite and sweet* Oh, I really don't, is the thing. Once a guy tells me he expects me to whore myself, I become rather disgusted with him-I mean, you're in a strip club and not a whorehouse, after all, and you're not very YOUNG men, so one would think you'd know better by now, you know? *smile, ditzy half-shrug*
GG2=*GLARE* Nobody is going to tip you, then.
Me=*smilesmile* If you say so!
I walk right up to the next customer, a regular of mine, who greeted me with a large tip and a "You don't have to dance for me this round, you earned it by dealing with THOSE two."
And then two more of my regulars walked up to me-one wanted a couch dance, one wanted to say hi :) Grabby guys were suitably chastised and did not bother me the rest of the night.
When I got to work tonight, there were a BUNCH of guys over by the pool tables. They were rather friendly...but one to the point of annoyance-you know what I mean?
Mostly nice guy, pretty drunk. I came in in my street clothes and he greeted me loudly and impeded my progress to the dressing room by positioning his rather large mass right in the area I had to pass by. "Come see us!" he bellowed. I scootch by and go get changed.
He tipped, and that was great-but there is such a thing as TOO friendly. He'd constantly try to hug me-not a sexual thing, just a grab-around-the-waist thing, but I hate being randomly hugged by people I do not know at all. I'd wiggle free somewhat violently, and he just kept repeating, "WE'RE GOING TO BE BEST FRIENDS BY THE END OF THE NIGHT!!!"
Wow, no.
He'd stand RIGHT by the stage while we danced and just stare-not watch-and-appreciate, no. STARE. Weird.
Then he kept trying to convince us to sit with his depressed friend and counsel him with his problems. I'll try to cheer him up, sure, but I'm not gonna be his frickin' therapist for a dollar.
And he kept. Sitting. At. Our. Table. Even after we repeatedly reminded him he couldn't. There's only one place in the frickin' bar we can sit and not be bothered, plz to be leaving us alone there.
Just annoying.
The last guy was just a brat.
Me=Remember, Ginger Rogers did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels.
B=Brat
Me=*goes around for tips, dancedancesmilesmile* Hey there!
B=Hi!
Me=How are yo-
B=*interrupts* So what are the rules of engagement here?
Me=...Be specific, please.
B=I mean, with touching.
Me=Oh. You can't touch us, if that's what you mean.
B=Oh. *huffy sigh, glares off in the distance*
Me=...ooooookay then. *wanders off*
He didn't tip anyone. I'm not sure he even tipped the bartender.
Thanks-
To the guy that bought four couch dances in a row from me simply so he could keep discussing music with me-thanks man, you covered the rest of my rent :D
To the guy who gave me $20 randomly and said, "You're an exceptional dancer."
To the guy that ordered dinner to be delivered for the girls :)