Tales from the Boobie Bar!
It really seems this week that customers have a supernatural ability to know exactly what squicks me out.
Which is quite a feat, since few things do except
1. Saliva and other bodily fluids in that environment
2. Being compared to a highly underage relative of theirs
3. Being touched by them
I'm thinking the customers passed a note to each other or something, because they all hit on #1.
So, I'm doing my thing. Dancing onstage, lalala. Customers are staring, etc, great-as it should be.
I go around for tips after my set. And older guy, dressed rather like a biker, tipped me and was talking very nicely to me about my dancing-I was thinking 'hey! Good customer!'
Then he asks if he can kiss my hand. Which I'm okay with-lot of older guys like to do that.
But instead of kissing my hand, he licked it.
Cue freakout.
I wiped the back of my hand across his face (he didn't like that at all) and told him to NEVER do that again. He got all huffy and offended, of course.
I rushed off, cursing myself for not buying more Germ-X. Dancer M saw me coming and took me upstairs to scrub my hand with Lava soap. And then I hit it with the bars Germ-X. And then M and I searched every inch of my hand to be sure I had no cuts or anything (thankfully I didn't).
Grosssssss.
The next customers (guys that were barely 21) decided to argue with me.
Because I wouldn't take a dollar from their mouths. Did I mention they wanted me to take it with my mouth? Yeah.
I politely declined, and both of them launched into a tirade at me. See, according to them, I *had* to do it because...
...wait for it...
"The customer is always right."
Like hell.
Yes, I know you think you're right, sitting there in your Wal*Mart dress shirt and tie (seriously guys, we know quality clothing-and that ain't it), puffing your cheap cigar and trying not to puke. I know. I bet it makes you feel all growed up to talk down to someone you assume is beneath you.
The problem with this is that...well...you're wrong.
I've never been happier to give my "I don't give a sweet fuck about you or your opinions" speech ^.^
I got a laugh out of it, though. They 'threatened' to tell my manager.
Ahahahaa. Sure, go ahead-I invite you to try. He'll take my side over yours, trust me on this one (God, I love this bar).
This last one is short and not-so-sweet:
Gist is, a customer decided it would be a great idea to lick the palm of his hand and then try to smack my ass.
A quick sexy-avoidance move later, and he smashes his hand against the bar. He cries out, I giggle while feigning concern.
But hey, thanks to:
The guy who, while I was dancing onstage with my back to him, pointed to his buddy and said, "Now *that* is an ASS!" It wasn't very suave, but it made me grin regardless.
The shyguy who was positively thrilled to be in a strip club, and was very sweet to all of us.
And to the guy who comes in almost every day, tips $10 or so to each girl per set, and claps ^.^ You're a sweetheart, thank you :D