Tales from the Boobie Bar!
This one happened to co-worker A.
Guys, gals, we know you all have fetishes. We know. Fetishes are cool, I'm down with that. Foot fetishes, schoolgirl fetishes, schoolteacher fetishes, glasses fetishes, whatever. Even things like color fetishes (one of my regulars insists that I wear white EVERYTHING-thong, shoes, dress, garter, jewelry, ribbons for his dances). We're cool with that, really.
But physical contact fetishes, we're not so cool with. We're dancers, not professional doms/subs.
Guy asks A for a VIP dance (30 minutes long, $175). She takes him down, and as she's dancing, he asks her to kick him in the balls. Hard as she can.
A bit flummoxed, A declines, and continues dancing.
This isn't good enough for the guy, and he reaches out and grabs As foot and starts ramming it towards his crotch.
A cuts the dance off right there and heads back upstairs and relates the tale to me. After hearing it, I offer to go kick the guy in the nads in my sparkly new 8 inch heels, but my manager said no :( Boo.
But seriously-in strip clubs, as well as the real world, no means no. 'Kay? Good.
Oh, here's another 'no means no' sort of tale for you.
So, I'm going round after my set. Collecting tips, dancing for patrons, the usual.
I approach a 50ish guy-he's been there awhile now, having fun, drinking, whooping it up. Cool.
Me=Dancer lady :D
G=Guy
Me=*approaches G* Hey hon, how are you?
G=Great! *tips me* You know, I have this little kink in my shoulder right here...*guwaffs and gestures to his shoulder*
Me=Aww, I'm sorry to hear that!
G=Won't you...rub it down for me?
Me=No, sorry ^^
G=OH. Well, YOUR body must be hurtin, with all this dancing and all...
Me=I do get a bit sore at the end of the night, yes *still dancing*
G=Here, I'll rub you down.
Me=No thanks!
G=But...I want to.
Me=Right...but I don't want you to.
G=Yeah, but I reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally want to.
Me=I get that. MY point is that it's my body and therefore my opinion on the matter that, well, matters.
G=Oh?...*seems to be thinking REAL hard*...OH. I gotcha.
Lord.
I know we've done this to death over and over but really...
If you want to go to a strip club and have a good time and have the pretty ladies be nice to you...
...fucking bring money.
(See icon for simpler breakdown of this basic principle.)
Me=Still the dancer lady :D
YG=Young guy, maybe 22 at the outside.
Me=*goes around after set, dancedancesmilesmile* Hi there!
YG=Ohhh, hey there, you're really sexy :D
Me=Thank you! *smilesmile, holds out side of thong for tip*
YG=Oh, I don't have any money.
Me=Oh, well there's an ATM over there if you need some ^^ *helpful pointpoint*
YG=No, I mean, like I'm broke.
Me=No money in a titty bar? That's awfully...silly of you.
YG=Yeah, but I'm in college.
Me=So are most of us.
YG=Yeah, but you're making money!
Me=That's what a job is for.
YG=*blushes*
He left shortly thereafter.
This last guy was just a complete dick. Thankfully not to me, but sadly to the other girls.
I know people have preferences, and that's fine, but he didn't have to be so goddamn rude about it. His tone of voice is hard to convey here.
B went to him for tips, and he claimed he couldn't tip her because he didn't like tattoos.
J went to him for tips, and he claimed he couldn't tip her, either, because she wasn't blonde.
S, a blonde with no tattoos, went to him for tips, and his head exploded.
...actually, no. He just ignored her. But still.
After being told all of this, one of the off duty dancers, N, offered to go up onstage in her street clothes so she could shake her gorgeous wings tattoo at the douchebag (basically, the wings start at her lower back, and curve over her rear end, with the wing tips feathering up around her hips towards her Promised Land. It's an absofreakinglutely beautiful tattoo, wish I had pictures of it.).
Arg. People.