I would take Ray to a strip club.
As anyone who has me on twitter will know, last night I went out to a strip club. Again. As usual.
You probably all think I'm this wild libertine deviant who spends all her time partying. But no! I hardly ever leave the fuckin' house. I'm a home-body. I prefer curling up on the couch in front of the footy with a bottle of wine and a packet of chips to actually bothering to get dressed nicely and put on makeup and go OUT where I have to WAIT for my drinks and deal with idiotic guys being idiots all around me. I like comfort.
But every now and and then me and the fiance are like OK FINE WE'RE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE! And we have a pattern. First we go to the Kitten Club, which is the best little bar in Melbourne. Their cocktails are amaaazing, and they're the only place I know who serve Gypsy Pear Cider, which is delicious. We hang around there for a while, and I perve on the Scottish bartender until Trav gets sick of that, and then we go to a strip club. It used to be mostly my alums - I worked at Spearmint Rhino and also Goldfinger, but those places suck. We've found a new one to visit now, which is called Dreams. It's pretty cool, and the girls are all lovely and all, but. Man. There are only so many naked women you can see wiggling around a pole before it gets a little same-same.
But for girls who have never been to a strip club, I would like to reassure you of something - something along the lines of what PJ was tweeting about. Strippers come in many shapes and sizes, and you know who makes the most money? The girls with confidence. I was watching the stage, and a girl came on who was wearing a stupid outfit, couldn't really dance, and who was probably not as 'stripper-y' in the body as you'd expect. She was kind of soft all over and her tummy went more out than in - which, when you're dancing around NAKED, kind of shows. Not in a bad way - she was totally hot - but just in a 'this girl looks different' way. And you know what? She had the biggest, cheekiest smile, she moved her arse like a champ, and she BANKED up there. The guys LOVED HER. The girl on after her had the perfect freaking body, and danced like a goddess, but I don't think she made as much money, because she looked cold and disconnected.
Then take me. I'm a B-cup, I'm 5'1 and I will never, ever, not have thighs and arse. But I loved dancing. Loved it. I'd get up on stage and dance the fuck out of it, and I did good, money-wise. Not FANTASTIC, but even next to girls who looked like Victoria's Secret models, I made money. Because sometimes guys want VS models, and sometimes they want someone small and cute and kinda raunchy. Also, I rocked a schoolgirl skirt and knee highs.
I gave up stripping because I got tired of how much fucking hard work it is, and I got tired of having 'talking to stupid men' as my job description (so I got into retail, go figure). But I will always love strippers. They're fun and hot, they dance around in not very many clothes, sometimes they make out with me when I'm drunk, and they work really hard.
But, on the other hand, going to strip clubs CAN get old. Also - they charged me $10 for a vodka. TEN DOLLARS. Ten of them! I almost fell over. Sigh. But you can sit around and drink average liquor at a bar and stare at a wall, or you can drink expensive liquor and stare at bosoms. I suppose there are checks and balances.
And now I'm hung over, and I have vague memories of making out with a girl who's name I can't remember, probably while guys watched (UGH! I was that girl! Gross) and I think I have used up my quota of 'going out and doing stupid shit' for at least the next six months. I am going to spend today reacquainting myself with my couch and drinking endless cups of coffee.
You would think that, at twenty-six, I would be starting to act like an adult. But, according to the available evidence, you would be wrong.
Also, I'm going to enjoy reading the responses to the 'Why Do You Like Ray?' post at we_pimpin . Oh, Ray. Good for what ails ya.
--Beck
You probably all think I'm this wild libertine deviant who spends all her time partying. But no! I hardly ever leave the fuckin' house. I'm a home-body. I prefer curling up on the couch in front of the footy with a bottle of wine and a packet of chips to actually bothering to get dressed nicely and put on makeup and go OUT where I have to WAIT for my drinks and deal with idiotic guys being idiots all around me. I like comfort.
But every now and and then me and the fiance are like OK FINE WE'RE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE! And we have a pattern. First we go to the Kitten Club, which is the best little bar in Melbourne. Their cocktails are amaaazing, and they're the only place I know who serve Gypsy Pear Cider, which is delicious. We hang around there for a while, and I perve on the Scottish bartender until Trav gets sick of that, and then we go to a strip club. It used to be mostly my alums - I worked at Spearmint Rhino and also Goldfinger, but those places suck. We've found a new one to visit now, which is called Dreams. It's pretty cool, and the girls are all lovely and all, but. Man. There are only so many naked women you can see wiggling around a pole before it gets a little same-same.
But for girls who have never been to a strip club, I would like to reassure you of something - something along the lines of what PJ was tweeting about. Strippers come in many shapes and sizes, and you know who makes the most money? The girls with confidence. I was watching the stage, and a girl came on who was wearing a stupid outfit, couldn't really dance, and who was probably not as 'stripper-y' in the body as you'd expect. She was kind of soft all over and her tummy went more out than in - which, when you're dancing around NAKED, kind of shows. Not in a bad way - she was totally hot - but just in a 'this girl looks different' way. And you know what? She had the biggest, cheekiest smile, she moved her arse like a champ, and she BANKED up there. The guys LOVED HER. The girl on after her had the perfect freaking body, and danced like a goddess, but I don't think she made as much money, because she looked cold and disconnected.
Then take me. I'm a B-cup, I'm 5'1 and I will never, ever, not have thighs and arse. But I loved dancing. Loved it. I'd get up on stage and dance the fuck out of it, and I did good, money-wise. Not FANTASTIC, but even next to girls who looked like Victoria's Secret models, I made money. Because sometimes guys want VS models, and sometimes they want someone small and cute and kinda raunchy. Also, I rocked a schoolgirl skirt and knee highs.
I gave up stripping because I got tired of how much fucking hard work it is, and I got tired of having 'talking to stupid men' as my job description (so I got into retail, go figure). But I will always love strippers. They're fun and hot, they dance around in not very many clothes, sometimes they make out with me when I'm drunk, and they work really hard.
But, on the other hand, going to strip clubs CAN get old. Also - they charged me $10 for a vodka. TEN DOLLARS. Ten of them! I almost fell over. Sigh. But you can sit around and drink average liquor at a bar and stare at a wall, or you can drink expensive liquor and stare at bosoms. I suppose there are checks and balances.
And now I'm hung over, and I have vague memories of making out with a girl who's name I can't remember, probably while guys watched (UGH! I was that girl! Gross) and I think I have used up my quota of 'going out and doing stupid shit' for at least the next six months. I am going to spend today reacquainting myself with my couch and drinking endless cups of coffee.
You would think that, at twenty-six, I would be starting to act like an adult. But, according to the available evidence, you would be wrong.
Also, I'm going to enjoy reading the responses to the 'Why Do You Like Ray?' post at we_pimpin . Oh, Ray. Good for what ails ya.
--Beck